I held him. I held my big brother and took solace in his embrace. I’d missed this. As kids we were so close. He’d hold me all the time. For the first time since he’d returned, it felt like maybe, just maybe, my brother, my childhood hero, was rising from his darkness once again.

I soaked in his warmth and whispered sternly, “Luka, I believe it was meant to happen. Even if it won’t be welcomed.”

Luka pressed a kiss to the top of my head and rasped, “What was meant to happen?”

“Everything,” I said back. “Your journey brought me Zaal. He’s shown me what real love is.”

Luka’s hold tightened. I felt Kisa’s hand on my back. After a few more seconds, I withdrew from his arms. Luka was watching me with concern.

Subconsciously I reached for my necklace. I ran my hand over the Tolstoi name and laughed a humorless laugh. “You know, babushka gave me this as a talisman to find my true love. It was dedushka’s. He gave it to babushka before he left for that trip to Moscow, as a way to keep him close to her heart until he returned.” I caught the gold of the necklace glinting off the beaming sun shining through the window. “I wonder what she would have said knowing that the love I found was the son of the man she hated most.”

Unable to take the pain this knowledge brought, I whispered a brief “Good night,” and dashed up the stairs.

Quietly, I cracked open the door, to see Zaal lying fast asleep on the bed. His huge body seemed to dwarf the king-size bed. My chest clenched in pain. He was mine. Every fiber of my being had claimed him as mine. My heart, my soul, my spirit. At this point, I didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought.

I stripped off my clothes, careful not to make a noise. Zaal was lying on his back, his long black hair hanging over his pillow. His muscles relaxed as he slept. He looked so peaceful. I hoped he would get the rest he craved.

Attracted to him like a magnet, I snuggled into his side, the heat of his body instantly warming me. My head lay on his chest and I listened to his steady breathing. It soothed me. Suddenly, as if needing to touch me, even in his sleep, Zaal slid his arm over my shoulder and pulled me close.

As I closed my eyes, I remembered everything Luka had told Zaal tonight. And I felt sick. His history was so sad, so violent. A wave of protectiveness embraced me, and lifting my chin, I stared up at Zaal’s handsome face.

His eyelids fluttered in sleep, and running my finger down his stubbled cheek, I whispered, “Zaal Kostava, you’ve stolen my forbidden heart.”

Chapter Fifteen

Zaal

“Boys, come here!” Papa’s voice called Anri and me in from the garden. We looked at each other and smiled. I set off running, sprinting through the long grass.

I was fast, but so was Anri. I could hear him running behind me, picking up speed. I laughed as we rounded the corner and our house came into view.

Grandmama was sitting on the porch. She started laughing as she saw us approach. I pushed myself harder, then Anri was suddenly at my side. We looked at each other and started laughing. We both reached the porch at the very same moment.

I stopped in front of Grandmama. She put down her tea and started clapping. “My boys!” she exclaimed, and opened her arms for us. Both Anri and I ran into her embrace. She kissed us both on the head.

Footsteps sounded behind us and Grandmama pushed us back. Papa was waiting at the door and called us over.

We ran to Papa and he smiled wide. “Come with me, boys.” Papa led us into the house and through to his office.

A tapping on the wooden floor seemed to follow us. When I looked around I saw that Zoya was running our way, dressed in a pink dress and clutching her white stuffed toy rabbit.

“Sykhaara!” she shouted with a giggle, and jumped into my arms. Anri reached over and ruffled her hair. “Where are you going?” she asked. Papa leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

“I have something for your brothers,” Papa said proudly.

Zoya’s face lit up. “For me, too?” she shouted in excitement.

Papa shook his head. “Leave me with your brothers. And if you’re good, I’ll take you to town tomorrow and buy you anything you want.”

She nodded her head. I placed her on the floor. She ran back to Mama who was watching us with proud eyes as she fed our baby brother and sister.

“Anri, Zaal, in my office.”

We sat in Papa’s large office, on the sofa opposite his chair. Papa sat down in his black chair, smoothing out his expensive suit as he did so.

“Anri, Zaal. When I was your age, my papa controlled our clan. The Kostavas have always been strong. We’ve always been feared and we always will be.

“But years ago I made a decision for our clan that took us from Moscow and brought us back to Georgia. I issued a command that many took offense to and it cost us our standing in Russia, and with the rest of the Vor V Zakone.

“I still stand by my decision, but it’s no secret it has damaged this family’s reputation. This is our home. Georgian blood runs through our veins. But in order to rule strong, we need to be back in Moscow. And we need to claim our slice of New York, too.”

We both nodded, listening to every word our papa said. He spoke of our clan all the time. He spoke about regaining our place in Moscow after the murder of our rival’s boss. Mr. Jakhua, another Georgian boss, and my papa were always in meetings. They always planned to overthrow the Volkov Russians. My papa hated the Volkov Russians. He said they were greedy and needed taking out.

Anri and I hated the Russians. Papa taught us how to hate them.

Papa leaned forward. “When I was eight, I began listening in on business meetings of the family. You are both eight, and there’s no better time to start than now. You’ll learn the family business, then when you’re older and I’m gone, you’ll both rule our clan.” Papa smiled and sat back proudly. “Two male heirs. I have two strong young men to carry the Kostavas back to greatness.”

Anri elbowed me in the side. I smiled as he nodded in pride.

Papa stood and opened up his safe. He pulled out two black boxes and gave one to each of us. Papa sat back down and pointed at the boxes. “All the men in our family get one at your age. It’s tradition.” He waved his hand. “Open.”

I carefully opened the box at the same time as Anri. A gold necklace sat on a bed of velvet. I ran my hand over the emblem and Papa leaned forward. I looked up and he pulled his necklace out of his shirt collar.

“It’s the same as mine. My father had one, too.” A smile spread on his lips. “Be proud to wear them. You’re the future of this family. You’ll fix my mistakes.”

Anri stood and clutched his necklace to his chest. “We will get revenge for you, Papa. When we’re older we’ll take back Moscow for you. We’ll take New York.”

I stood beside Anri and did the same. “We swear it, Papa. We’ll make them all pay.”

Papa stood, and with a hand on each shoulder, asked, “Who will you destroy?”

We took a deep breath, and recited three names we knew by heart, “The Volkovs, Tolstois, and Durovs.”

Papa smiled and threw his arms around our shoulders. He led us out of the door. Mama and Grandmama rushed over to help us put our necklaces on. They beamed with pride. My mama stepped back and put her hands to her mouth. “My sons,” she beamed, and ran her hand over the necklaces on our necks.