Afon’s jaw works beneath the heavy shelf of his cheekbone. “Mat’s a clever man. Good? I’m not as sure.” He accelerates through the intersection with the light still yellow. “He was supposed to come into the family proper. His father—my brother—wanted that for him. Instead, he gets a law degree and a corner office and thinks he’s above it all.”
“Maybe he just wanted something different.”
He clucks his tongue dismissively. “That’s not an option. Not when you’re choosing who you are. The boy’s lost his way.” He glances at me. “Family’s important, Kirill. Gotta stick by your blood. Mat will learn that, too, sooner or later. Just like you’re learning it now.”
I turn my head and stare out the passenger window at a row of shuttered storefronts sliding by, each one gated and dark. A closed flow
