Page 154 of Sweet Ruin

Nine dozen spiced honey cookies

Trays upon trays upon trays of cheese-and-potato pirozhki

A tub of prepared dough and filling roughly the size and shape of a beefy toddler

Is it too much?

Yes.

But Kane himself said that I am not too much. And you know what? I believe him.

So I’m sorta just extending his wisdom to encompass my food offerings as well.

It’s not like it matters that much in the end. This is just debt service.

Very elaborate debt service, sure. Debt service with a sprinkling of orange zest.

But debt service nonetheless.

“You know,” Priya says from behind, scaring the ever-living shit out of me, “when I said I’d come in early to help, I didn’t realize it was because we were feeding every human being in the tri-state area.”

I press a hand over my racing heart. “I’m gonna revoke your key privileges if you keep sneaking up on me like that, you little wench.”

She leans over to peck me on the cheek. “You can pry this key out of my cold, dead fingers, darling.”

She sets a coffee down next to me and is instantly forgiven.

Curse her—she really does know the way to my heart.

This is why she’s head baker.

Talent matters, but anticipating my preventable suffering is what really earns a person the title.

I finish the last curl of cream piping I’m working on and step back to admire my craft. The honey cake stands nearly ten inches high, twelve amber layers alternating with tangy filling. Crushed scraps cling to the sides. Candied honeycomb crowns the top.

Priya sips her coffee and eyes the chaos surrounding me. “Okay, but for real, how many people are you feeding?”

“I don’t actually know. Kane wouldn’t say.”

Her eyes move toward the boxes stacked beneath the prep table. “So you just assumed the answer was ‘the entire Russian army’?”

“I don’t know how many people are in a Bratva. Nobody puts useful headcounts online.”

“I feel like there’s a reason for that.”

“Well, that’s dumb. This is 2027. The Bratva needs a social media presence just like everyone else.”

I did do my research.

For six days, my browser history has been a fascinating journey through Orthodox Christmas customs, Russian holiday menus, a few helpful forum posts under the heading So You’ve Been Invited to a Criminal’s Holiday Feast…

There are articles about kutya. Recipes for baked fish. Cabbage, cabbage, and more cabbage. Who knew that cabbage offered so many possibilities? I could spend the rest of my life doing nothing but preparing cabbage and I still wouldn’t exhaust the bank of recipes.

But in the end, I decided not to insult Kane and his forebears by butchering their cuisine.

So I stick with what I know.

And what I know is baking.