Chapter 9 - Nikolai
“Markov,” I tell one of my associates as we walk down the stairs toward the main hallway. “We need a new rotation on the security detail outside the house. It’s been the same folks for far too long, and I don’t want them getting complacent.”
“Yes, Boss,” he tells me, jotting down the reminder on his notepad.
I part ways with him at the hallway, from where he disappears toward the end of the house to where a door opens at the staff quarters at the back.
I watch him leave and adjust my cufflinks. Tonight, Anoushka let the staff know she’d be eating dinner with me. It’s been three weeks since we’ve been married, and after our day together when she claims I kidnapped her from the office, she’s been slightly warmer with me. We’ve had breakfast together three times, and tonight would mark our first dinner. I’m being patient, but I do wonder why she agreed. Perhaps she’s decided she’s ready to work with me?
The thought sends a thrill through me, knowing that she's slowly warming up to me, letting down her guard little by little.
I turn on my heels and am about to go through the living room when the bell rings. I frown, upset with this disturbance so close to our dinner time. Who the hell is out there threatening to ruin my dinner with Anoushka? To save time and get over whatever matter this might be, I decide to open the door and deal with this myself rather than waste time waiting for the staff to get around to it.
Opening the heavy wooden door, I'm greeted by the sight of my siblings: Dima, Fedor, Sofia, Natalia, and Artyom, each with their own unique expression, none of which is a welcome sight at this moment. I groan and don’t even bother masking my annoyance.
"Surprise!" Fedor, Natalia, and Artyom sing, grinning like children.
“What the hell are you guys doing here? We didn’t have plans, did we?” I say briskly, opening the door to let them through. They step inside, chattering about how they missed me, and the coats come off. To be honest, even though this isn’t what I had in mind for the evening, I can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at their sudden appearance.
"Brother, we couldn't wait any longer to get acquainted with your bride," says Dima coldly, without a smile on his face. Dima, younger but the oldest of the rest and most cynical of us, never misses an opportunity to seize who he believes to be a threat. From how he greeted Anoushka at the wedding, I’m well aware of just what he thinks of her. His light blonde hair and grey eyes make him an intimidating presence, even among our family.
"You could have called ahead, Dima," I reply, reminding my siblings of the fact that now, things are different. This house is not mine alone, and long gone are the days when they don’t respect my wife’s schedule. “But since you all are here now, follow me.”
Fedor steps forward, his tall frame filling the doorway. "You know we couldn't let you have all the fun of keeping her to yourself, Nikolai," he says, smirking.
"Of course not, Fedor," I respond, shaking my head with amusement at his ever-present need to be entertained.
Behind him, Sofia rolls her eyes, her long blonde hair cascading down her back. "Can we just get this over with?" she mutters, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. I wonder who the mastermind behind this ploy tonight has been. Knowing my siblings, I stake a bet on it being Fedor.
"Always the peacemaker, Sofia," I remark, nodding my head in her direction.
Natalia and Artyom, the youngest of us, are practically bouncing with excitement. “Take us to her!” Artyom declares, like I’m his footman or something.
“This way,” I say, leading them to the dining hall.
I open the door, and six pairs of feet shuffle in. Anoushka, who has her face in a book, looks up in surprise, and the minute she sees everyone, I see her turn pale. She jumps to her feet, book forgotten, and I notice her fidget with her fingers with nervousness. “Oh my god! Hello! I… I didn’t know we were expecting company,” she says in a squeaky, high-pitched voice that’s new for her, and then walks over to greet us all.
“Anoushka, my siblings. They dropped in to surprise us,” I explain, introducing her again to each one. She smiles warmly at each one. Dima shakes her hand, Fedor nods, and Sofia barely acknowledges her while Natalia and Artyom both go in for hugs. To be honest, I feel a mild rise of anger toward the oldest three siblings. If they’re here to meet her, the least they can do is be warmer than the chill they’re offering in this room.
Or perhaps I’m just reading into it because this whole thing feels so unexpected and nerve-wracking. After all, introducing your wife to your family properly for the first time isn’t something I have much experience in.
“Please come in,” says Anoushka, gently motioning toward the dining table. “Maria,” she calls out to the housekeeper. “Please lay out five more dinner places.”
“Actually,” Anoushka turns back to us, her cheeks pink from all the excitement. “I think I should go check in with the kitchen to tell them about the change of plans.”
Here, she pulls me aside and whispers. “Why don’t you take them out to the living room for some drinks? We might need some time on our hands to prep up more food. I don’t think Maria cooked for six,” she gives a nervous chuckle.
“Of course, Anoushka,” I respond quietly. I can see the slight panic in her eyes, and my heart softens at how considerate she is, even under such unexpected circumstances. She could have continued to just sit there, pawning off responsibility on the staff. But instead, she’s taking charge of the house, ensuring tonight goes off as smoothly as she can, all because my family’s here. In this moment, I see a brief glimmer of hope. Without even realizing it, she’s stepping into this marriage, claiming this home, family, and staff as her responsibility. I watch her stride away and direct everyone to the living room.
***
Fifteen minutes later, with drinks in all our hands and Anoushka back in our midst, I go over to the record player and put on some old tunes.
“Ah,” smiles Fedor. “The Beatles. Good choice, Brother. I remember how I had to force your DJ to play some of their songs at your wedding. He insisted they were old-school. I insisted he had no taste.”
Here, everyone laughs.
I smile and go back to join them on the couches.
“Speaking of weddings,” Artyom wiggles his eyebrows in Fedor’s direction. “Who was that brunette you spent most of the night with?”
“No one,” Fedor replies, a little too quickly.
"Come on, Fedor," Natalia prods, a mischievous glint in her green eyes. "You can't just leave us hanging like that. Come on! We’re family. You can tell us.”
“Yes, who was she?” Sofia narrows her eyes at Fedor, clearly upset that he might have a woman in his life she doesn’t know of or, frankly, approve of. Sofia, ever the dutiful sister, hardly spends much time in our business. As a result, she’s not aware of the faces like we are but always feels the need to stay up to date. When she’s not, she tends to feel mildly left out.
Fedor chuckles, taking a sip of his drink before replying, "Just a friend called Yelena. Nothing special." He tries to play it down. My gaze quickly flickers toward Anoushka, but she looks straight ahead, sitting quietly, observing the exchange as though they’re discussing the weather. She knows more about Yelena than she’s letting on. The memories flood back of what we witnessed at the wedding between Fedor and Yelena. Frankly, I’m grateful she’s not bringing anything up.
“And how do you… know this friend?” Natalia inquires.
“She’s married to a man from the Bratva,” Fedor shrugs. “A man called Demetrius. See, as I said. Just a friend.”
The minute Fedor says she’s married, most of my siblings lose interest. However, I notice Dima watching Fedor with narrow eyes, clearly unimpressed with his choices in life. Dima is smart. I know he’s probably figured it out.
“Booooring,” Artyom shakes his head. “Our new sister-in-law is going to think there’s no good gossip to go around in this family.”
“Not at all!” Anoushka gasps, clearly embarrassed of having the attention turned back to her. “Besides, as family, it’s way more fun to gossip about others who aren’t us, isn’t it?”
“So, you’re one of us now, is it?” Sofia remarks coldly.
“Well said, Anoushka,” I interject, shooting a warning glance at my siblings, especially Sofia, who seems to be searching for something in Anoushka’s response.
“Yes, but Anoushka is absolutely right!” Natalia interjects sweetly now. “She is an Orlov, after all.”
“And also, a Zolotov,” Fedor reminds us all, bringing a dark cloud over the room. Suddenly, I realize exactly what’s happening.
My siblings aren’t here to genuinely know Anoushka. Most probably, they’re here to grill her, and I’m not liking one bit of it.
Anoushka shuffles in her spot, and I watch her squirm, holding back what I know can be a snarky tongue. Just knowing she’s trying to fit in, when Dima, Fedor, and Sofia are treating her so, makes me almost shake with anger. I take a deep breath and stand. “I think it’s time for dinner,” I declare, leaving no room for argument.
***
The dinner is a tense affair. Anoushka, sitting at the head of the table as the lady of the house, maintains her composure admirably under the scrutiny of my siblings. Natalia and Artyom attempt to keep the conversation light, asking her about her interests, while Dima, Fedor, and Sofia fire off more pointed questions.
"So, Anoushka," Dima starts, his voice sharp. "What did you do before marrying Nikolai?"
Anoushka clears her throat delicately before answering, "I was working with my brother, Boris. I still do, in fact."
“Working with your brother, huh?” Fedor scoffs. “Seems like one sure way to get a promotion.”
Anoushka's eyes flash with a mix of anger and hurt at Fedor's comment. She takes a moment to compose herself before replying, her voice steady. “And what do you do again?”
I can’t help but smile as I watch Fedor hold back a grimace and then accede to Anoushka’s question with a simple nod. “Touché,” he admits; all the while, I feel a surge of pride at how she held her own, without defending herself, simply by pointing out a hypocritical truth of our world.
Fedor does, after all, work for me.
“Either way,” Anoushka adds sweetly now. "We work together because we trust each other. Promotion has nothing to do with it."
“Trust,” Sofia says icily, leaning forward. “And did you trust our brother when you agreed to marry him, considering how you hardly even knew him? Or was it just because it seemed like the right thing to do for the Zolotovs? After all, if not for this union, I believe we might even be at war.”
Anoushka's posture stiffens slightly at Sofia's pointed question and I let out a warning growl. “Sofia,” I say pointedly.
“What, Brother?” she hisses back, sitting back down to sip on her wine. “Are we not entitled to understand the person who enters our family?”
Not wishing to create a scene, I remain silent for now. Although it’s evident to me that Sofia simply wants to pick a fight. Later, I have half a mind to have a strict talking to with her. She has no right to barge into my house and insult my wife this way.
I look over at Anoushka, wanting instinctively to hold her hand, but she’s at the other end of the table. To my surprise, after taking a few seconds to compose herself, she looks directly at Sofia, her gaze unwavering. "Trust is something that grows with time, isn't it? I might not have known Nikolai well before we got married, but every day since then has been a chance to build that trust." Her voice is calm yet firm, a subtle challenge in her demeanor.
Sofia's expression remains cold, but there's a flicker of surprise in her eyes at Anoushka's response. She opens her mouth to retort, but I interject before she can speak. "Let's not dwell on the past, shall we? What matters is where we are now."
“Hear, hear,” says Artyom, raising a glass in a toast. “Anoushka, welcome to the family. I’m quite certain it’s going to be the ride of a lifetime!”
“Yeah, considering you’re marrying our brother,” Natalia giggles.
“And we accept no refunds,” Fedor raises his hands with a chuckle. At this, I am surprised. While Dima barely acknowledges her, and Sofia still has a pained expression in her heart, it is clear that Anoushka has won Fedor over or is on the brink of it.
Anoushka smiles warmly at Artyom and Natalia, raising her glass in return. “Thank you for the warm welcome,” she says graciously, her eyes flickering to meet mine briefly with a hint of relief before returning to the group. “But since you do say no refunds, do you think he has any value in the resale market? I do believe my husband is hot enough to attract a few women.”
I almost choke on the sip of wine and need to cough to clear my throat. Did she just call me hot in front of my whole family? What the hell is she playing at?
Anoushka’s comment sends a ripple of laughter around the table, breaking the tension that had been building up. Even Sofia can’t help but crack a small smile at the unexpected humor. I look over at Anoushka, and to my surprise, she winks at me from across the table.
I raise an eyebrow at Anoushka, impressed by her ability to diffuse the situation with humor. “I’m glad to know I have some value,” I quip, playing along. “And that you think I’m hot.”
While the rest move on to other topics of conversation, I watch Anoushka blush. Did I manage to make her feel… shy? Suddenly, all the pent-up anger I have toward my sisters mingled with the fact that Anoushka borderline flirted with me right in front of them, makes me restless.
For her.
While she gracefully holds her own under my siblings’ scrutiny, I can’t help but be transfixed upon her during the remainder of the night. The way she fidgets with the hem of her dress as she steals glances in my direction, how she laughs when Artyom cracks a joke, how she looks toward me for reassurance when there’s a threat of conversation turning sour.
And the whole time, all I keep thinking is that this woman, this incredible, beautiful, vivacious woman, is my wife. And how I wish I could whisk her upstairs, strip off those clothes, and show her just what her husband’s capable of offering.
***
After dinner, Anoushka and I show my siblings to the door. Dima and Sofia just nod their goodbyes while Fedor, Artyom, and Natalia end up giving her warm hugs. Once I shut the door, Anoushka lingers near me.
Something changed between us tonight, and I think she feels it, too. Tonight, we were a team.
I decide to break the silence that hangs between us. "You did well tonight," I start, my voice softer than before. "Dealing with my siblings is no easy task."
Anoushka looks up at me, surprise flickering in those expressive eyes. "Thank you, Nikolai," she replies, her words genuine. "Your family is… a lot to handle."
A small smile tugs at the corner of my lips as I take a step closer to her. "They mean well, in their own way. Just a bit overprotective."
Her gaze meets mine, and I see a glimmer of understanding in those depths. "I can see that," she muses softly. "They just want what's best for you."
Maybe it’s the wine or the ever-present need to protect her that’s consumed me tonight, but I want nothing more than to close the gap between us. I take another step forward and reach out, one finger trailing on her arm. She looks up at me with bated breath, her chest heaving so fast that there’s no denying she wants me just as much as I do. “Anoushka, I—”
But then, she shakes her head ever so slightly and takes a step back. “I better go help the staff clean up,” she mumbles before scurrying off, leaving me longing to see her in my bed.
***
Later, needing some solitude to calm the anger I have toward my siblings over their ambush and the goddamn thoughts of just all the things I want to do to Anoushka, I find myself in my room, trying to calm my thoughts.
A soft knock on the door jolts me from my thoughts, and I wonder who could be interrupting my much-needed solitude. Taking a deep breath, I open the door to find Anoushka standing there. And not just standing there, but standing there in the shortest baby doll nightgown, covered under a lacy see-through robe. She must have put it on, thinking it’ll give her some cover, but I can see the traces of her nipples through the silk peeking through, and the blood rushes to my cock.
What is she doing here dressed like that?
A surge of desire pools through me, and I wonder if she’s here wanting what I want.
Her. Me?
"Anoushka… " I manage to say at last, my voice gravelly. My eyes trail down her figure to her thighs, and she tugs at her hem, pulling her gown tighter around her.
Oh. So not what I was thinking. I force myself to look back up at her face.
"May I speak with you for a moment?" she asks hesitantly, glancing down the hallway to ensure no one is listening.
"Of course," I reply, stepping aside to let her in. But she doesn't move, preferring to keep our conversation at the doorway.
"Thank you," she says, swallowing hard before continuing. "I wanted to talk to you about Fedor's affair. I overheard him mention her husband’s name, Demetrius, and I thought you should know that our family knows him. I didn’t know Yelena, but my brothers have mentioned her husband a few times. He’s a dangerous man, Nikolai. And I think you truly ought to warn Fedor because things could get ugly if Demetrius finds out.”
My jaw clenches involuntarily at the mention of my brother's infidelity. I appreciate her warning, but it only serves to fuel the anger simmering beneath the surface. Anger at the fact that she’s here at the behest of my family, who mistreated her so tonight, and not for me, who needs her like an addict needs drugs.
"Please don't tell anyone I told you," she pleads, genuine concern etched across her face. "I just… I've seen how these things can tear families apart, and I didn't want that to happen to yours."
Her sincerity and willingness to go out of her comfort zone for the sake of my family touches something deep within me. I nod, assuring her, "Your secret is safe with me, Anoushka. Thank you for bringing this to my attention."
"Good night, Nikolai," she whispers, giving me a small smile before turning to leave. I watch her retreat down the hallway, her footsteps echoing softly against the marble floor.
"Wait, Anoushka," I call out impulsively. She stops and looks back at me, curiosity in her eyes. "Would you like to come in? Just to talk, I promise."
For a brief moment, I think she might accept my invitation. But then she shakes her head, her expression unreadable. "Thank you, but I should get some rest. Good night, Nikolai."
"Good night," I echo, closing the door as she disappears around the corner. Sleep, however, proves elusive. Thoughts of Anoushka consume my mind—her bravery, her fire, her vulnerability. And how goddamn sexy she looked in that baby doll nightgown.