Diamond Days (Born Bratva 6)
Author: Suzanne Steele
Prologue
Glazov had spent his life in anticipation of this day: the weddings of his three children. Any father who faced the prospect of walking his daughter down the aisle did so with a mixture of pride and trepidation; however, most fathers didn't make that trip three times in the same ceremony. But he did.
He could have delegated two of those trips to others since Natasha and Logan weren't his offspring. Someone even suggested he walk all three brides down the aisle at once. His wife, Kathleen, quickly nixed that idea, insisting that every bride deserved her moment.
The irony wasn't lost on him; his Ptichka had an unconventional entrée into her Bratva life all those years ago, and a walk down the aisle had not been part of it. He had never given it much thought, but today his mind lingered on the sacrifices his Ptichka made for Bratva -- and for him – all those years ago.
Logan had no close family ties beyond her Bratva family, and Natasha became one of his own the night her father was murdered. His daughter, Roksana, was protective of the women in the Glazov family, much like her mother, and had no objection to sharing her father with her new 'sisters'. So, three brides, three trips down the aisle. It had been a busy day.
The wedding reception was being held in the grand ballroom he reserved for special celebrations. Kathleen had it decorated in a white winter theme with touches of what he called 'Tereschenko Blue'. Family, friends, and a select few business associates were gathered to celebrate this next stage of their lives.
Today signified the passing of the torch to the next generation. It was up to them now to uphold the Bratva traditions and create new ones of their own. It was as it should be, and he was ready.
The diamond import business would be the key to the next chapter in their lives. Glazov wasn't naïve; he still had enemies. Rivals he'd crossed or simply outmaneuvered over the years, would come looking for retribution. Or perhaps they would make the mistake of thinking he was weak, that he had gone soft. They would not make such a mistake twice. Despite the blood on his hands, his conscience remained clear. He'd lived the life that had been chosen for him generations before his birth. He had honored the legacy of his ancestors.
But times were changing. The streets were riddled with gangs that had no sense of loyalty or respect, who murdered and maimed for the sport of it. He wanted no part of it and would, instead, take pleasure in watching them destroy each other.
But the diamond trade had its own dangers, so he had invested considerable time and effort in laying the groundwork that would ensure his family's safety: no blood diamonds, no theft, no forgery. Most importantly, they would deal exclusively in diamonds from Russian mines. The workers would have the best equipment and safest conditions in which to work.
Only time would tell what the future would bring. It was a new day, a new horizon, a new vision. If all went according to plan, soon his wife would no longer have a reason to lose sleep worrying about his safety. He intended to be around to enjoy his children's children; all the more reason for them to start their families and give him grandchildren, sooner rather than later. In this, as in all things, Glazov was not a patient man.
He pulled his wife closer to him so she was tucked into his side-the woman he forced into marriage. He wasn't quite sure what he had expected their marriage to be, but the union had proven to be more fulfilling than he could have ever imagined.
"We've done well," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Yes, Ptichka, it is a good day. You have created a spectacular celebration for our family. I have come to expect nothing less."
"Thank you, love," she said as she looked up at him, her hand smoothing the lapel of his tuxedo before slipping underneath to rest over his heart, "but that's not what I mean. Our children, they do us proud, today and every day."
"Yes. And now we prepare for a new chapter. We need new blood to carry on the Glazov name."
"I can't believe you're already thinking about grandchildren," came a haughty, feminine voice from Glazov's left. "It's only their wedding night, darling. You must give them some time."
Glazov's sister, Vladimira, plucked a shot glass from a passing tray as she glided across the floor toward them, the train of her black satin evening gown flowing behind her like rippling water. Her dark eyes twinkled at her brother's long-suffering eye roll. Kathleen couldn't help but laugh at her sister-in-law's quip as they traded air kisses.