Chapter 1
Damien
Present Day
“Come on, Ev. You have to take a break at some point. Why not now?”
I raise a brow at my cousin, but his head is still buried in one of his massive law books that looks boring as hell.
He can feel me staring at him, and after a few more minutes, he sighs and puts the book down before finally turning his face to mine.
He slips off the dark reading glasses he started wearing and sighs.
“I don’t know, Damien. Maybe I should stay here and get ahead in my classes,” he says.
I laugh and shake my head at him. “No fucking way. You’re already having to wear glasses.
These books are killing you. You need a break, so let’s get the hell out of here for a while.
We can go to Oregon, spend time on the beach, visit with Max and Talia and her family.
Plus, Uncle Vitaly is in matchmaker mode, so the faster we leave, the better. ”
I can tell he’s considering it, so I add, “Niki said he and Sav might come join us in a few weeks if we go.”
Instead of a yes, I get, “I can’t promise I won’t have to leave early.”
Holding up my hands, I say, “I swear I won’t chain you to the bed. You can leave at any time. You need a break, though, Ev. What you’re doing to yourself is insane. You need to be able to let loose and not worry about hiding.”
Ev’s studying to be a lawyer, which means he has to hide he’s a Melnikov.
He hates it. I hate it. We all hate it, but it’s the only way.
In Oregon, though, he can be himself without fear of anyone seeing him.
Talia married Niki’s older brother Max, and her family runs the Medvedev Bratva.
They have a huge stretch of private land along the coast, plenty of space for Ev to remain completely anonymous.
It’s the perfect plan, and I wasn’t kidding about our Uncle Vitaly.
He’s on a mission to see us all married, and Ev and I are the last two single kids.
Ev stacks the heavy textbook on top of the others before sitting back in his chair. “This trip wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain Medvedev daughter, would it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I tell him, following his lead and leaning back, except instead of keeping my feet on the floor like him, I put them on his coffee table because I know it’ll irritate him.
I hide my smile when I see his brow start to furrow as he takes in the black boots that are so very close to his stack of precious books.
“It’s not going to work,” he says.
“What’s not going to work?”
He finally pulls his eyes away from my boots and to my face. “You trying to distract me by putting your goddamn shoes next to my books is not going to make me forget about the massive crush you have on Sitka.”
I scowl, and he grins.
“I don’t have a massive crush. What are we, ten?”
His grin grows into a smile. “You sure you want me to come along. I might end up being a third wheel, and that’ll just be embarrassing for me.
Maybe we should come up with a code word.
You know, something you can say so I’ll know to leave so you can make your move.
She speaks Russian, so I can’t just switch languages. That makes things difficult.”
Pretending to be deep in thought, he eventually says, “What about Pop-Tart?” After a soft laugh, he adds, “Yeah, I think that’ll work.”
“Pop-Tart? You expect me to just throw that out mid-conversation and make it sound natural?”
“Sure, why not?”
There are a million reasons why this is a shit plan, but when I stay silent, he says, “Perfect. So, when you want to make your move, just say Pop-Tart, and then I’ll make an excuse to leave.”
“This is ridiculous and unnecessary, and I won’t be saying it, so you can forget we ever had this conversation.”
He looks way too pleased with himself when he taps the side of his head and says, “It’s already locked in.
I’ll never forget it. When the mood strikes, I’ll be ready.
Just wait for me to leave though, yeah? It’s bad enough being a third wheel.
I don’t want to add spectator to the mix. I’m not into voyeurism.”
“I’m going now,” I tell him, but before I move my feet, I nudge his stack of books with the toe of my boot, smirking when I see his eyes widen ever so slightly.
He tries to hide his annoyance, but I know my cousin too well for that.
He’s like a brother to me, and he and his sister are the only cousins actually related to me by blood, so when I nudge the stack again and see his lips tighten into a flat line, I laugh and stand up.
“I’m gonna text Bran to let him know we’re coming. Be ready to go in two days, okay?”
He’s already reaching for his textbook and sliding his reading glasses back on, but he takes the time to look up at me and say, “Sure thing, Pop-Tart.”
“Fucker,” I mutter while he laughs.
I let myself out and as soon as I’m in the elevator, I send a voice message to Bran.
He’s Talia’s brother, and the two of us quickly became friends after meeting.
I’ve been learning ASL so we can communicate more easily, and for some reason, the language just clicks for me, far better than reading ever did.
I send off the message letting him know we’ll be there in two days, and when he responds with a long written text, I hold my phone up and listen as it’s read to me.
He’s deaf, and it takes me an hour to read a simple paragraph. It’s a match made in fucking heaven.
I send another voice message to my cousin Max, and the one he sends me back is exactly what I expected. His familiar voice rises over the sound of his daughter’s giggles when he says, “Sounds good, Damien. Guest rooms are ready to go. Can’t wait to see you both.”
Lyra ends it with a happy squeal before the message stops.
She’s nine months now, and I’m looking forward to spending some time with her.
All my cousins’ babies are my nieces and nephews, and Lyra is the one I get to see least since she spends half the year in Oregon.
It’ll be nice to get in some bonding time.
That’s what the focus of this trip is, time to relax with family and friends, not some sneaky attempt to make my move with Sitka Medvedev.
It would be insane and a horrible idea all around.
Her dad is psychotic on the level of Sasha, her two brothers are the same brand of crazy, and she lives on the other side of the country.
Plus, the girl is a massive bookworm. Every time I see her, she’s reading.
It’s not just a pastime for her. It’s an obsession.
She loves those books, and it would take me hours to read even one page of them.
There’s no way in hell she’d ever go for a guy who requires a ruler, a bottle of Tylenol, and plenty of time just to read a short paragraph.
She’d laugh her ass off, and I can’t risk that happening.
I will never risk that.
Starting my motorcycle, I feel a twinge of regret at not being able to bring it with me, but the Medvedev family have extras.
They always let me borrow something when I’m there.
Last time I visited, Bran and his older brother Dmitri showed me several roads that wind through the forest, and I’m eager to ride them again.
The scenery out there is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
It’s gorgeous, the complete opposite of the bustling city I grew up in, and I love it.
I love that I can step outside, walk half a mile, and feel like I’m completely alone.
Sometimes it’s nice to be able to just disappear.
Turning into the underground parking garage, I park next to my dad’s Porsche and then head up to the penthouse.
I’ve thought about getting my own place, but right now there doesn’t seem to be much point.
The place is huge, more than enough space for me to feel like I have my own apartment, and it’s not like I’m bringing women home.
Outside of my family, I keep to myself, and that’s the way I like it.
Plus, there’s no denying it’s safer this way.
We have a strong grip on the city, but things change, and when they do, it’s usually quick and violent. Safety in numbers and all that.
As soon as I get through the security Niki set up, I step inside and immediately grin when I hear Luka’s son scream my name.
“Uncle Damien!”
I laugh as Roma comes barreling towards me as fast as his three-year-old legs will take him.
When he’s close enough, I scoop him up so I can give him a hug.
He wraps his arms around me and then pulls back so he can look at me.
He looks just like my brother except his eyes are more blue-green instead of solid green like Luka’s.
I got our mom’s eyes, so brown they’re almost black, but we all have the same dark hair, and when I ruffle Roma’s, he tips his head back and laughs.
“Will you watch a movie with us?” he asks as if there’s any chance in hell I’d ever say no to him.
“Only if we get to make snacks,” I tell him.
He claps his hands and nods while I carry him into the kitchen.
My mom is already in there, pulling out a tray of cupcakes while my dad sits at the island with Luka’s daughter in his lap.
Mira smiles when she sees us, but at nine months there’s not much more she can do.
I still go over and kiss her head, which earns me an even bigger, very slobbery smile.
My dad laughs and wipes her face with a cloth. “She’s teething really bad right now. We told Luka and Lara we’d watch them so they could have the night off.”
“I can see that,” I say, laughing at the amount of drool and giving my niece another smile before looking at my dad. “Ev agreed to come with me to Oregon, so we’re all set. I let Max and Bran know, too. You sure it’s still okay to leave?”
“It’ll be fine,” my dad says. “You and Ev both need a break anyway. If we need you, we’ll call, but I doubt that’ll be necessary. Just enjoy your break.”
I nod while my mom comes walking over.