Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
His eyes make a quick pass over the red dress hugging my figure. “Nonna dressed you well.”
It’s the same dress I was wearing earlier, but either he failed to notice or he’s providing obligatory compliments in hopes I will behave this evening. I’m not certain who he’s expecting for dinner, but it seems strange he’d want to include me. For all Nikolai knows, I could spoil everything. But I suppose he’s counting on me to be the well-heeled girl trained to be respectful of men and their business.
“Our guest is waiting.” He gestures for me to come closer, and I do, but not close enough for him to touch.
After last night, I want nothing more to do with him. I want only his suffering, and I have secretly vowed that I will do everything in my power to ensure it, though I don’t know how yet. I only know that I was a fool to be swayed by him for even a minute.
He is a thief. A liar. And I will never forget that image of him again.
We walk side by side, greeted at the bottom of the stairs by Nonna, who readily provides us each with a drink. Vodka cranberry for me, and a whiskey for Nikolai.
“He is in the main room,” she announces.
Nikolai nods and downs the amber liquid in his glass with one long swallow. Nonna leaves with the promise to return with another, and then we are off again. He guides me into the main room where our guest is waiting. And once I set eyes on him, I recognize him.
Alexei.
Like Nikolai, he has an overbearing presence. Tall, lean, and muscular with ice blue eyes. He rises to greet me, and his eyes never leave my face as I say a quiet hello.
“Nakya, you remember Lyoshka.”
I nod.
“Thank you for coming,” Nikolai tells him.
“I can’t stay long.”
Both men are rigid with equally cool features. The civility between them is forced, though I don’t know why. But when Nonna directs us to the dining table, Nikolai offers the head seat to his guest of honor.
Perhaps he is trying to win him over, but more than likely, it’s a matter of respect. There is always a pecking order in the mafia, and in this particular scenario, it would appear Alexei outranks Nikolai.
We take our seats, and for some length of time, they discuss business in Russian while I poke at the first course. Under any other circumstances, I’d love minestrone, but I find it an odd choice to be served this evening. I’m not hungry anyway, and my thoughts are far away when Nikolai barks my name. I look up from my plate.
“Eat,” he demands.
I make a point to disregard him, informing Nonna that I’m finished when she comes for the dishes. She frowns but removes the bowl regardless.
The conversation continues across the table, but it seems to be increasingly one-sided. When I look up from my salad, I find it’s because Alexei’s attention has diverted to me. He seems unaware that Nikolai is still speaking when he interrupts.
“Who are you?”
I have no reason to be rude to him. There is, in truth, a small part of me that basks in the power he holds over my captor. Nikolai is watching our exchange closely, his eyes challenging me to speak out of turn.
“My name is Tanaka Valentini.” I offer Alexei a warm smile. “I’m here as collateral for a debt my father owes.”
If Alexei reacts to my honesty, I don’t see it. My eyes are locked on Nikolai, taking a small victory in the way his fingers stiffen around his glass as he brings it to his lips.
I turn my attention back to Alexei. “And may I ask who you are?”
“I am of little importance,” he answers. “In fact, it puzzles me exceedingly what honor has bestowed a bastard like me the presence of your captor this evening.”
Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I do not trouble myself with the relations you speak of. It seems you have mistaken me for Sergei.”
Alexei shrugs. “It is hard, sometimes, to tell the difference between you two.”
A crimson flush edges up the pulsing ridge of Nikolai’s throat, and my stomach flips in response. I know I probably pushed him too far, but Alexei is unconcerned about his role, even when Nikolai excuses himself from the room.
When he’s gone, and the room is silent, I blurt something that would be better kept to myself. “Are you really his brother?”
Alexei pierces me with his eyes. “How did you know?”
My eyes wander over his features, and while it isn’t blatant, there are some similarities. It’s mostly their mannerisms, though, that I have seemed to connect. “You look alike. And you also hinted at it. Bastard. Relations. I think the only missing ingredient is brotherly affection.”
His eyes study me curiously while he sips from his cognac. “It’s hard to warm to a man like Nikolai.”