Free The Gift: A Novella by Sandra Marton

grandfather into acceptance of the fact that there would be no betrothal ceremony and no wedding.
    He found his abandoned snifter of brandy, took a drink, then carried the glass into his study where he turned on the desk lamp and settled into a big leather chair.
    There had to be a way to do this. There had to be.
    Beep.
    What the hell…
    Dammit. He’d turned off his cell phone. Why was it ringing? He must have hit it accidentally when he picked it up.
    Beep beep.
    Kaz muttered a curse and glared at the thing. Sardovia. Surprise, surprise, he thought bitterly. OK. He’d have to deal with this sooner or later. He took a breath, then took the call.
    “Kazimir!”
    It was his grandfather. The king. Apparently, Kaz’s lack of contact was causing worry.
    “Kazimir! You do not answer your phone? You do not take messages? These things are your duty, boy. You are—”
    “I know who I am, Grandfather. I also know that I am not a boy. And I know why you and your ministers have been calling.”
    “I am impressed,” the king said, sounding not at all impressed. “You are a mind reader as well as a financial expert.”
    Kaz ignored the comment. “You want to remind me that I am to bring Ekaterina Rostov to court on Christmas Eve.”
    “Indeed.”
    “I’ll bring her, but only because she sees it as her duty, her obligation to her dying mother.” Kaz’s voice roughened. “But I tell you right now, her father’s plan to marry her to Dmitri is done with.”
    “You do not tell me what will happen in my court, Kazimir.”
    “Listen to me, Grandfather. She will not marry my uncle. How in hell could you have engineered such a thing?”
    “I do what is best for Sardovia. That means that Ekaterina Rostov is to marry my heir.”
    “Because?”
    “Because it will unite two factions. Because it will put an end to Rostov’s scheming. Because it is best for our people.”
    “You want me to believe you give a damn about what is best for the people?”
    “It I did not, you would have grown up in poverty and without an education.”
    “I would have grown up exactly as I have.”
    “Perhaps—but you would surely not control Sardovia’s purse strings. You would not have the power you have today.”
    “Is power all that matters to you?”
    “I govern our people, Kazimir. I do it as best I can. I make the best determinations I can. And that is why Ekaterina Rostov will be wed to my heir.”
    “She will not! I will not let it happen!”
    “Such an interesting attitude. Have you taken a personal interest in this woman?”
    “Goddammit, old man—”
    “You overstep yourself, Kazimir! You are my grandson, and you must not speak that way to me! It has been decided. The woman will marry—”
    Kaz slapped the cell phone to silence.
    It had all been decided. A woman’s future. The course of her life. And wasn’t it amazing that at such a bleak moment the king had for, the very first time, called Kaz his grandson?
    Meaningless, of course. It was just a word. Perhaps the king believed the use of it would make him malleable.
    Kaz got to his feet, walked to the window, tucked his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and stared blindly into the night.
    Now that he thought about it, it had been a conversation loaded with firsts. The old man calling him his grandson, and that almost casual reference to Kaz’s power. The truth was that he did have power. The most important kind.
    Financial power.
    His fund, the decisions he made, influenced banks, markets, and people. Especially people who were heavily invested in all kinds of financial dealings…
    Kaz caught his breath..
    Was it possible…? Could he find what he needed if he dug deep enough? There were rumors, but…
    He rushed to his desk. Turned on his computer, Googled Gregor Rostov, scribbled down some notes. Then he went to a site he’d used during the couple of years he’d worked for Zach at Shadow.
    One long, deep breath.
    Kaz typed in his user name. His password. It