Chapter 5 Benedikt
Benedikt
This meeting has been dragging on for an hour too long, and I’m already thinking about the text I’m not going to send to Sienna.
She’s got until tonight to sign the contract.
I’m not giving her reminders like some lovesick idiot who can’t wait to marry me. She knows the deadline. She knows what it means if she misses it.
But the longer I sit in this mahogany-paneled backroom of a Miami restaurant, listening to two associates argue over the shipping schedule for a container I already signed off on, the more I think about her.
Not in some poetic way. Not in a miss you, baby way.
More in the you’re pissing me off, sign the damn contract.
“Benedikt,” Marco says, his deep voice snapping me out of my thoughts. “We’ll have final numbers by Friday.”
I nod once. “Good. If they’re wrong, you’ll be paying for it personally.”
It’s not a threat that needs emphasis. Marco knows I mean it. He gives a tight smile and steps back.
The table’s cleared in moments. My men are already on their feet, moving before I do on trained reflex.
Outside, the air’s hot for an afternoon. The sun hits hard, bouncing off the hood of my black SUV parked by the curb. Artem’s already there, scanning the street. He nods once when he sees me.
I’m halfway to the car when the mood suddenly shifts.
It’s subtle, the way my men move. Four of them step out, forming a half circle in front of me. Their attention’s fixed on a single figure leaning casually against a vintage Mustang across the street.
And then I see him.
Nikolai.
Leaning against the hood of my car like he owns it, cigarette in hand, and the faint curl of smoke blending with the damp air.
My men react before I do. Viktor and Ilya step forward, cutting in front of me. Their hands hover near their jackets, eyes narrowing on the suspect who dares to touch something that belongs to me.
Nikolai doesn’t flinch. The bastard looks amused by the way my men react like he’s about to pull an explosive out of his ass and toss it at me.
His eyes skim the line of them, like he’s counting how many would shoot before I gave the order to do the same to him, before his gaze lands on me.
“Well, well.” He flicks ash to the ground, his grin widening as we stare at each. other. “Little brother’s all grown up. You’ve got quite the entourage.”
“Get off my car.”
Instead of moving, he pushes off the hood slowly, letting his palm drag across the glossy paint. “Relax, Benedikt. I’m just admiring. Impressive… for someone who used to ride shotgun in my car.”
Two of my men step closer, but I hold up a hand. If Nikolai wanted to be dead today, he wouldn’t be here.
“What do I owe this surprise visit? In a parking lot, Nikolai.”
“Straight to business? And here I thought we’d have a brotherly reunion. Hugs, maybe a drink—”
“I don’t drink with people I don’t trust.”
That earns me a soft chuckle, but there’s no warmth in it. “That’s your job, brother. You’re not supposed to trust anymore.”
Exactly.
My father’s empire is like a chessboard, and Nikolai just walked in like the queen piece nobody saw coming.
He knows it.
I know it.
The air between us tightens as I take the last few steps toward my car. Viktor falls in at my shoulder, so fucking close that I catch the faint scent of his cologne, something sharp and clean, with a bite underneath.
“Don’t walk away from me, Benedikt. I came here to discuss something with you.”
“Not interested. Leave.”
“It’s a free city.”
I turn to face him, making sure I make shit perfectly clear. “It’s my city. I said fuckin’ leave.”
That earns me a low chuckle. “We’ll see.”
I hate that my pulse ticks faster, that even now, after everything—after the years I’ve put in cleaning up the messes he left behind—there’s still a part of me that thinks he could take it all back in a single move.
Nikolai always had that kind of presence. Reckless, yes. Chaotic, definitely. But charismatic enough that people followed him straight into hell without asking questions.
He slides his sunglasses down just enough for me to see his eyes. There’s a glint there, something sharp and knowing, like that gives him an edge. “So. Are you coming to the dinner tomorrow night?”
“No.”
“You should.” He approaches my car with lazy grace, like this conversation’s a casual drop-in rather than an ambush.
“Father’s making a whole event of it. The ‘coming home’ celebration.
” He gives the words weight, mocking and proud at the same time.
“It’s been years since I’ve been back at that table. You’ll want to make an appearance.”
“I’ve been making appearances,” I say. “You’ve been in prison.”
“Unfair characterization.” His mouth curves. “I was…indisposed.”
I almost laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.
But then he tilts his head again, studying me with that slow, predatory curiosity, and my guard goes back up.
“You’ll come, though. Wouldn’t want Father thinking you’re avoiding me.”
“Why would that matter? And I am avoiding you, Nikolai. Let me make that perfectly clear—”
“You know how much Dad liked having us together. To discuss business…trade deals…about our lives.”
“And you have so much to tell over the years?”
“Depends.”
I knew I was going to this dinner, I just didn’t know it was coming so soon. Our father hasn’t mentioned it again and, if I stay away, it would only make it look like I’m hiding something.
“Well, then I can’t wait to hear those tales behind bars,” I say finally. “I’ll be there. And I’ll need a space set up for my fiancée.”
That gets him. His brows lift, and for a moment, the amusement fades into something sharper. “Fiancée?”
“Fiancée,” I repeat.
“That’s funny.” He leans one shoulder against the car again, casual as ever. “Father hasn’t mentioned her. And as far as I can tell, there haven’t been any sightings of you with anyone serious. No dinners. No galas. No photographs. Nothing in the papers.”
I take a step closer. “And how would you know that, Nik?”
There’s the smallest flicker at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s just say I’ve been keeping tabs.”
“Keeping tabs?”
He shrugs. “I like to know what I’m walking back into. You’ve been busy. Expanding the business. Making friends in high places. And now, suddenly, a mystery woman. Interesting timing.”
It’s not lost on me that he’s fishing for cracks. And it’s not lost on me that he’ll find them if Sienna doesn’t play her part flawlessly tomorrow.
The contract’s still unsigned. She’s got until tonight. I’ve deliberately stayed buried in meetings all day, trying not to think about the clock running down, but every hour she doesn’t call is another twist in my gut.
Nikolai’s still watching me, like he can smell the tension.
“Tomorrow night,” he says, tapping the hood of my car once before stepping back. “Bring her. I’ll be looking forward to meeting the woman who thinks she can marry you.”
The way he says it, I know he doesn’t believe she exists or that I’m faking it.
I slide into the car without answering or acknowledging what he said because the latter is what I’m dealing with.
We’re going to need to sell this, and I don’t know if Sienna’s hatred for me and acting skills are up to par.
My jaw’s tight the whole way back to the office because tomorrow night, she’s going to have to prove him wrong, and she’s got less than twenty-four hours to get ready.
And I’m going to make damn sure she does, or all of this is going to be for fucking nothing.
Except for plan B.