Chapter 3
The Ivanovs doa great job of pretending they”re still rich.
I”ve just arrived at their ritzy Rublevka mansion, done up to the nines. A brand-new three-tiered fountain stands prominently in the driveway, the foyer is all sparkling Italian marble floors and the walls are covered with rare art.
Boris Ivanov ushers me in with a warm handshake and pat on the back. “Vasiliev, it”s been too long. What has it been, a year? Two years? It”s nice to see you again.”
“I saw you last month at the rare sports cars auction that Morozov hosted.”
Boris pauses, searching for his memory of that night. If I recall, he was already well into his cups by the time I encountered him. “Right, right. Well, it”s nice to see you again.”
I”m always amazed at how far someone born with everything can fall. Boris is the greatest example of pissing away money he didn’t earn.
His wife, Anastasia rushes forward and greets me like the social climber she is. If it wasn”t for my association with Maxim, I doubt she’d give me the time of day. Sure, I’m rich and important now, but I come from nothing. She strikes me as the sort who would hold that against me. With a plastered-on smile, she escorts me into the sitting room, where the party is already well under way.
I quickly scan the room. Maxim is deep in conversation with Anatoly and his father, Stepan. I roll my shoulders, and search for a bar, requiring a drink or three before I join in any conversation with Anatoly Petrovich. He’s got an ego the size of Russia and the social grace of a bull in a china shop.
If it were up to me, I”d steer clear of him, but fate, being the cruel mistress she is, didn’t give me that option. I’m heading up this shipping deal for the Belov Syndicate while Maxim steps back to focus on his new family with Kira. With Stepan battling cancer, Anatoly has assumed the day-to-day management of the shipping company, which means he and I will be working closely. There’s no avoiding it.
In truth, I work with plenty of assholes, but this one happens to be engaged to a woman I haven’t stopped obsessing over since the day I met her.
Liza Ivanova is my every fantasy come to life, with a mouth that poets could write sonnets about, curves for days, and wide green eyes that could easily be my downfall if I allowed it. Which I won’t.
At the bar, I order a vodka, well chilled and straight up. The bartender seems disappointed by my choice, considering the extravagant cocktails on offer. As if I”d ever be caught dead drinking something with more than two ingredients.
Propped against the bar, I scan the room for a curtain of dark auburn hair—hair that has ignited many fantasies about winding it tightly around my fist and leading her to my bed.
Bingo. Warmth rushes my chest as I catch sight of her chatting in the corner with Kira.
The bartender slides the drink in front of me, and I pick it up without taking my eyes off of Liza.
“You know staring is considered rude?”
I laugh into my glass and shrug as Pavel, Maxim’s other right hand and one of my closest friends, settles in beside me.
“I’m just taking in the room, enjoying the sights of this fine evening.”
He smirks and orders a drink. “Real subtle, bratan.”
I exhale sharply and finish my vodka with one large gulp.
I really thought I played it cool as far as Liza was concerned, but unfortunately, one of Pavel’s deeply irritating superpowers is uncanny perception. Still, it’s not like I’d do anything about this… inconvenient attraction. She might make my dick hard, but she”s strictly off-limits as Anatoly’s fiancée.
Not that I give a shit about him, but I”m loyal to Maxim and the syndicate. Now that we’re in business with the Petroviches and millions of dollars are at stake, I won’t do anything to fuck up this deal. Especially not for a woman.
Liza turns to greet another guest, and tension knots my shoulders. Damn, that dress should be illegal. It”s white and tight, with a slit down the back that makes me scheme ways to have her bend forward just so I can get a better look at her fine ass.
“Still staring,” Pavel reminds me, swiping a hand through his blond undercut.
“Well, she’s giving me something to stare at.” I motion to the bartender to get me another drink.
“You might want to check out Katerina instead; she’s been making heart eyes at you since you walked in.” Pavel’s lips curl up in amusement as he takes a leisurely sip of his drink. “Fresh blood might be exactly what you need to get Liza out of your head.”
I pull a face. “Hard pass.”
I like Katerina about as much as I like her brother, which means not at all. They’re both self-entitled snobs. I guess it’s par for the course when you grow up stinking fucking rich.
Maxim finally frees himself from his conversation with the Petroviches and heads our way. I can tell by the way he’s loosening his tie that he’s had enough of them for one night and is in need of a stiff drink. I ask the bartender for a Macallan neat and hand it to Maxim just as he walks up to us.
He lifts the drink in thanks and takes a hearty swig, leaning against the wood-paneled bar. “Jesus, Anatoly likes the sound of his own voice.”
“How long do you think we have to stay at this thing?” I’m already feeling itchy under the collar. It”s all the bullshit small talk I can”t stand, though I”d spend all night watching Liza if I could. Not that it would be wise.
Maxim and Pavel both laugh because they share my sentiment. We come from the same world, a much harsher world than this one. We’ve risen through the ranks of society, but at our core, we”re still the kids from broken homes, raised on the wrong side of town.
My bond with both men dates back to my teenage years. Lost and still reeling from the devastation of losing my mother to my father’s brutal hand, I was only fifteen when I made him pay for taking away the one person in this world who loved me the most. Whom I loved most. After that, I found myself hustling on the streets to survive.
Maxim was a few years older than me, already had a name in the underground fight scene, and was beginning to form his own gang. When I stupidly tried to pickpocket one of his men, Maxim intervened, stopping them from snapping my neck. He then gave me a choice: keep hustling or join his ranks. The choice was easy.
Maxim took a chance on me when no one else would. I was consumed by anger and didn”t care about living or dying. Along with Pavel, who has his own tragic past, Maxim shaped us into his reliable right-hands. We’re chosen brothers, and we’d do anything for him, including stepping up to run the syndicate while he enjoys his family.
Pavel raises an eyebrow. “It’s a dinner party—it’s usually considered polite to stay until the actual meal is served.”
“Fine,” I grumble, “but I make no guarantees about staying for dessert.”
Maxim sips at his whisky, his eyes flicking over the crowd. “I’ll make you a deal: stick around for the first few courses, and then you can excuse yourself.”
I tilt my head, sensing there’s more to this offer. “What”s the catch?”
He sighs. “Remember that girls’ trip to London Kira’s planning with Liza? Well, she wants to go this weekend for four days.”
I frown. Four days with Liza. Just fucking great. “Right… That.”
Pavel looks like he’s about to bust a rib holding in his laughter, and I shoot him a death glare.
Maxim lays a hand on my shoulder. “Listen, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. The baby will be here before we know it, and Kira really wants this time with her friend. I’d go, but Pavel and I have to wrap up the Crimea arms deal. You know I don’t trust anyone else with Kira’s life. Do this for me as your brother, not as your boss.”
What am I supposed to say to that? If it’s important to Maxim, I won’t turn him down.
“I’ll guard her with my life,” I assure him. And try not to lust too hard after her friend.
“Appreciate it. Take care of Liza too.”
Maxim slams his drinks down on the bar top and wanders off to greet some new faces, leaving Pavel staring at me with a shit-eating grin.
“Live text me every detail of your girls’ trip. Don’t leave out anything.”
It’s amazing how my usually serious friend is practically giddy. Needling me is one of the few things that brings him genuine pleasure.
“Fuck off.” I grip my glass so hard it may shatter in my hands.
“I want pictures.”
“Do you enjoy my misery?”
Pavel pauses. “Yes. It seems I do.”
I shake my head. “It’s fine. Four days. What can happen in four days?”
Pavel doesn’t even try to conceal his delight. “I can’t wait to find out. And now I bid you adieu … and good luck.”
Good luck?
He salutes me and casually strolls over to a pretty waitress.
That”s when I spot the reason for his hasty retreat. Katerina is heading straight for me, stealthy as a cat stalking its prey. Sadly, I”m too late to dodge her approach—all I can do is brace for impact.
“Roman Vasiliev,” she purrs, her voice laced with a not-so-subtle invitation. “I had no idea you’d be here, but what a pleasant surprise.”
She leans in close to kiss my cheek, her lips practically grazing the corner of my mouth. I have to fight the urge to wipe the area with the back of my hand. Like most in her crowd, Katerina Petrovich is bold, brash, and endlessly seeking the spotlight.
I understand why women like her are drawn to me. They”re after a thrill. Her life’s been one of comfort, every privilege offered to her on a silver platter. I’m the taste of danger she gets to boast about to her friends.
Half the gossip about my sexual exploits are made up. Concocted stories for socialites to flaunt at their cocktail parties. It usually doesn”t bother me, but I don’t know… Lately, it’s been getting under my skin.
“Really, you had no idea I’d be here? At a party to celebrate the deal between our syndicate and your family?”
She shrugs. “I don’t pay attention to all the family business stuff. I have better things to do.”
I hold back an eye roll. Does this woman realize how vapid she sounds?
“Speaking of which, there’s this art event at the biennale this weekend. Why don’t you come with me? It’s supposed to be amazing.”
Next weekend I’ll be watching over Kira and a certain forbidden fruit in jolly old London. Which, truthfully, will be its own form of torture. Although not as painful as spending a few hours in Katerina’s presence.
“Sounds like a good time. You should ask Pavel—he loves avant garde art.” Lie. “Unfortunately, I’ll be working.”
Katerina frowns and bites her bottom lip in a gesture she probably thinks is sexy but is just irritating. “Oh.” Her gaze snaps to Pavel, and then back to me.
I’m man enough to admit that Pavel”s a good-looking guy in a marauding Viking kind of way, but he lacks my charm. Not that he gives a shit, but ladies like a little flirting and banter. Still, neither of us is looking for a relationship. We know we”re too messed up for anything beyond a fling.
Not long ago, I would”ve said the same thing about Maxim, but watching him fall in love with Kira has given me a new perspective. Still, if there’s a woman out there for me, I haven’t found her. And it’s certainly not the one standing in front of me.
“Maybe another time, then?” Katerina asks hopefully.
I search the room until my gaze collides with Liza. She’s shooting me eye darts full of poison, and her jaw is clenched so tight I’m concerned she might crack a tooth. Is she pissed that I”m talking to Katerina? No. But... maybe?
I decide to test this new theory by giving Katerina a big, flirty, dimple-flashing smile. “Sure, maybe another time.” I cross my arms in front of me in a way that I know makes my biceps pop. “What kinds of things do you like to do?”
She tilts her head in thought. “Shopping. Eating at the best restaurants. Going to the gym, obviously.”
“Wow, you really don”t limit yourself, do you?”
Katerina nods, oblivious to my sarcasm.
I’m barely paying attention to a word she says because I’m enjoying this stare-off with Liza way too much.
A thrill buzzes under my skin. My lips tip up at the edge in a hint of a smile, which she returns with a scowl.
I used to think this game we played was all in my head, but I’m not so sure of that anymore. She’s as sweet as candy with everyone but me. I inspire defiance in her, and for some reason, that really fucking turns me on.
Katerina continues to talk at me, but I’m still laser-focused on Liza. Nothing good can come from this little game we play. I should probably end this now. Turn around and avoid her all night. But who am I kidding? That’s impossible.
Does Liza know I’m accompanying her and Kira to London in a few days” time? Probably not. If she did, I have a feeling she’d make her displeasure crystal clear.
Honestly, what fun would there be in ruining her surprise? I want nothing more than to see her face when she walks onto the plane and realizes she has to spend four whole days with the man she despises.
We all get our kicks somewhere.