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and came around the apartment more often to hang out with Shaun in hopes of seeing him. It was like watching a couple of teenagers circle each other.

Saskia had wanted in on the mafia conversation because she thought she had quite a lot to contribute, and she wasn’t wrong. While Karl had been somewhat willing, but mostly nervous, to share information with Shaun, Saskia had been wholeheartedly enthusiastic about the idea. Now, she came over frequently after her classes to spend time with Shaun and Fatima.

Saskia had taught them the word Bratva the day before; it was Russian for mafia.

“Yes,” Saskia said around a mouthful of the caramel popcorn Fatima had made for her. When Shaun’s mom realized the way to Saskia’s soul was through her stomach, the treats had become endless. “A son will learn about the organization from his father in preparation to one day take over, and a daughter will be expected to marry into another powerful family.”

“Over my dead body,” Shaun had snapped, while Fatima exclaimed, “That’s terrible!”

Saskia shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“What an antiquated system,” Fatima had said with some concern. “Shouldn’t the children decide?”

Saskia shook her head at the older woman as if to say, ‘what a newb.’ “That isn’t how it’s done here. Even outside the Bratva, children are expected to accept the will of their parents.”

Shaun thought about her reaction to Saskia the year before when the girl had told her she was expected to marry, not go to university. Shaun had been horrified at the time, but now realized the Koba family wasn’t being deliberately cruel to their daughter, they were following accepted convention.

Saskia had gone as far as to bring a whiteboard with her on one of her visits. It was filled with the names and family connections of everyone involved with the Koba family. She reached over the couch to grab her whiteboard and go through all of the marriages that had been arranged. It was shocking to Fatima and Shaun to see how many mafia families made arranged marriages.

“Arranged marriages make for stronger alliances.” The women turned to look at Karl who was standing by the island, his arms crossed over his chest. “Most children are raised to understand their duty.”

“Understanding and accepting are two different things,” Saskia muttered, then pointed at a name on her whiteboard. “Alexandr Volkov. Head of the Volkov family.” She moved her pointer to the name next to his. “Olga Volkov, his second wife. His first disappeared in a tragic yacht accident outside of Moscow.”

“There’s nowhere to boat outside of Moscow. Unless she died in a paddleboat accident on the canal.” Karl frowned.

“Smart man,” Saskia said with a quick grin. “He totally killed her, but the official version is that the wife died in a boating accident. The second wife brought a lot more resources and prestige to the family. Volkov was among the lower ranks of the Vory until he married Olga. Now he’s sitting among the decision-makers in Moscow.”

“And how does this relate to the Kobas?” Fatima asked.

So far everything they’d learned came back to the Koba family who, as it turned out, were intricately connected to most of the other organized crime families.

“Olga is the daughter of Yuri Turgenev, who is the half-brother of Petr Koba.”

Shaun figured it out first, the second name ringing a bell. “Your great grandfather.”

Saskia nodded. “My father’s grandfather. Olga is my third cousin.”

Fatima nodded knowingly.

It seemed mind-boggling to Shaun that the families could and did keep track of each other. They were very much like royalty in the way they arranged marriages and stayed connected with each other, many of them wealthy and living among the elite. Some were even married to or descended from genuine royalty.

“Do you think Olga will go the way of the first wife?” Fatima asked, her tone one of curiosity rather than concern, like she was discussing a soap opera.

After only a few of their mafia gossip sessions both Shaun and her mother had reached the point where they were no longer horrified by the things they were learning. Perhaps that should’ve tipped Shaun off that she was becoming more accepting of the world she refused to integrate into one year ago. She still thought often of the morality involved in giving into the mafia lifestyle, but she reasoned with herself that she couldn’t change something if she didn’t understand it.

The problem was, once she understood, would she still be standing on the outside looking in with disapproval, or would she be on the inside, her morality as twisted as that of the people surrounding her? It wasn’t an easy question to ask herself, and there were no easy answers. For now, everything boiled down to her decision to stay with Jozef and find a way to meet in the middle of what had seemed like an impossible situation a year ago.

Saskia was busy explaining the annual meeting of the Vory when a muffled pop sounded, and the lights went out. Everyone froze as the room was plunged into shadows. It was the middle of the day, but the heavy snowfall outside the windows obscured most of the natural light.

Karl was the first to leap to his feet. “Everyone up, follow me.”

Though his words were spoken calmly, he seemed tense. He pulled his gun from the holster that seemed to be a permanent fixture on his belt.

Saskia dragged her purse close and Shaun realized the younger woman probably had a gun tucked inside.

“What’s happening?” Fatima asked, alarmed.

“Probably nothing,” Karl said reassuringly.

“Maybe something,” Saskia piped up. “Where’s the panic room?”

“Here,” Karl said, ushering the three women into Jozef and Shaun’s bedroom. Fatima scooped up Fitzy and carried him.

Shaun clutched her hot water bottle and obediently followed Karl. Her mouth fell open in surprise when he escorted them through her huge closet and opened a panel at the back. She hadn’t noticed it before as it blended into the wall. He punched in a code and the back of the closet

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