23. Nikolai
TWENTY-THREE
Nikolai
Yuri and Sierra are both rolling their eyes. I glower at the camera’s screen and shake my head.
“Do it right, guys,” I say. “We want these photos.”
“I don’t want this photo,” Sierra says immediately.
Yuri shrugs. “I don’t care.”
Even with their annoyed expressions, they look fucking hot together. Sierra is gorgeous in her blue dress that drapes down her front — with our brand on full display on her chest. She isn’t wearing a bra, because there’s no bra that wouldn’t be visible with how that dress reveals half her stomach.
She isn’t amused, but then, no one expected her to be. She’s hot, though, and that’s all we care about — even Yuri, who’s complaining about his own attire. I’m not sure what to make of my strange attraction to him. Out of leather, he looks like a completely different person. The suit fits him perfectly, of course, and the dark purple shirt beneath it is a nod to the theme of the party. His long, bleached blond hair is tied back in a half pony-tail, and he’s clean-shaven.
“At least we let you choose your own shoes,” I point out to Sierra, who’s wearing a pair of strappy, glittery heels that match the dress almost perfectly.
She looks good in sapphire blue, too. It complements her skin tone, and it makes her match the rest of us with our gem tones.
I have to admit that Konstantin did a good job picking out our outfits.
Especially Sierra’s, even though it’s distracting to look at her plunging neckline and the slit that goes up obscenely high. The few feather accents do nothing to help cover her up.
“Gee, thanks,” she says sarcastically. “Because that makes up for the fact that I’m wearing a washcloth.” She reaches up, touching the brand, and I can tell that’s more of what she’s concerned about.
It’s more than a washcloth… but admittedly not by much.
“Come on. Yuri, get your arms on her waist. Give me something sexy,” I say, angling the camera on its tripod.
Yuri rolls his eyes again, but he does get his hands on Sierra to pull her closer. I quickly snap a few pics while they’re focused on each other and not on being disagreeable.
“Very nice,” Konstantin says, walking up behind me. “Have you already taken photos with yourself in them, Nikolai?”
Like the two of us, he’s wearing a suit, though his shirt is the same green hue of his eyes.
He looks handsome, too, and my eyes linger on him for a moment longer than I think is really comfortable. But I snap to attention, telling him, “Not yet. You should get in with them first, though.”
Sierra sighs. “Can I change clothes after this?” she asks, even though it’s obvious she already knows the answer.
Konstantin goes to stand with Yuri and Sierra. Yuri immediately moves out of the shot, although I can see the longing in his eyes.
Konstantin drapes an arm around Sierra’s shoulders. “Like this?” His hand is under the fabric of her dress, directly on her breast.
Sierra tries to slap his hand away, but he ignores her. “No. Not like that. ”
I grin. “Smile for the camera, Sierra.” I take a picture while she’s still glaring at me because it’s hot as fuck.
She sighs but obeys, putting on a smile for the camera.
Her expression changes, though, and I realize he’s toying with her nipple beneath the dress.
“Konstantin,” she hisses. “Stop that!”
He laughs and kisses the side of her head. I make sure to snap a picture of that, too.
I could probably spend all evening just taking photos of them, but we do need to get to the party eventually.
“I’ll take a few of you,” Yuri offers. He’s a lot closer than I thought, leaning in close so he can see the camera screen.
I catch myself tensing and try to relax, only half-succeeding. I step away, warning him, “Just be careful with my baby.”
“Or you could destroy it before he can print copies of these,” Sierra suggests.
I look at her in alarm. “He would never.”
“I’m just pressing one fucking button,” Yuri says. “If your camera breaks from that, or if pictures disappear, that’s not my fault.” He pushes me toward the photo backdrop where Sierra and Konstantin are standing.
I get into position on the other side of Sierra, wrapping an arm around her waist. “You really do look beautiful,” I tell her. I can’t help but needle her, so I add, “I can’t wait to see how beautiful you are when you’re carrying our child.”
Yuri is taking pictures almost nonstop, and I’m satisfied that I’ll get to see the look on her face when I go through them later.
“Not right now,” she says, shaking her head. A few curls fall around her face, coming loose from the intricate style the hairdresser had given her.
Konstantin pats her stomach, then steps away. “Okay, photos with just Nikolai, then a few with all four of us.” He glances over to the table where I placed the masks. “With masks too.”
Sierra huffs loudly. “Sure. Let’s just waste all evening with the photos. At least that’s safer than going to this party. ”
If it was up to her, we wouldn’t even be going. She’s still convinced it’s some sort of trap, and the three of us agree that she’s probably not wrong. We’ve never been invited to this kind of party before.
Well, Konstantin hasn’t. Yuri and I weren’t on the guest list until Sierra worked her magic. I wonder what Don Marino will think when he sees the four of us together. He can’t raise a fuss, though, not after we’ve been cleared at the door.
We spend several more minutes taking pictures, in all configurations, before Konstantin checks his phone and decides it’s time for us to go. We’re going to be late, but then, who isn’t?
The drive to Benton City is almost three hours, and I take a nap while Sierra and Yuri whisper to each other. I bury a stab of jealousy about how close they seem.
Sierra would ditch all of us in a heartbeat, I remind myself. She isn’t any more into Yuri than me.
At least, I don’t think so.
The jealousy gnaws at me all the same.
When we arrive at Don Marino’s mansion, I smooth back my hair and press down my suit, which has gotten a little wrinkled from how much I’d slouched during my impromptu nap. I’m alert now, at least, and I tell myself to focus. I don’t have time to wonder about Sierra’s relationship with Yuri or how enamored Konstantin is with her.
Or the fact that I still don’t know where I stand with the three of them.
Now isn’t the time, though.
I get out of the car first, offering my hand to Sierra to help her out of the back seat. She takes it, her delicate hand fitting into mine. The light catches on the sparkly nail polish she’s wearing, and for all her complaints about the party, she certainly seemed to enjoy the day of pampering Konstantin had arranged for her.
“No masks until you’re inside,” the guard says as we approach. “No weapons. You all go through the metal detector. Purses get x-rayed.”
“Of course,” Konstant answers smoothly. He hands our invitations to the guard, who checks them over and compares with his list. “Okay. You’re in.”
That was surprisingly easy.
I put my wallet into the little basket to go through the x-ray machine while I step through the metal detector. No beeps. The guard pats me down anyway, but he’s satisfied that I’m not secretly carrying a gun on me.
Sierra goes next. As soon as she’s under the metal detector, the thing starts beeping.
“What?” She looks at the machine. “Um, I don’t know why it did that.”
The guard eyes her up and down, and I can see that he is very, very eager to feel her up.
Konstantin notices it too. “She’s mine. If you touch her, I will consider it a grave insult.”
The guard shakes his head. “It’s my job.”
“You can fucking see she isn’t hiding anything!” Yuri says. “Sierra, just push the fabric aside a bit. Unless you’ve got a gun inside your pussy, I don’t know where you’d be hiding anything.”
“A gun in my pussy?” Sierra answers with disgust. “You’ve got a wild idea about how loose I am.” She does push the fabric of her dress around, while the guard continues to ogle her. After a few very long moments, the guard says, “It’s the metal straps on the dress.” He gets a handheld metal detector close to the strap, and sure enough, it goes off.
“Okay, you can go in,” the guard says. Sierra moves past him—and he pinches her ass as she does.
She whirls around, and she lifts her hand like she’s going to try to slap him. I catch her wrist even though he deserves more than just a slap — or a punch in the face.
Konstantin goes through the metal detector and gets into the guard’s personal space, his expression darker than I’ve ever seen before. “I just warned you. Do you see this? She’s mine. ” He pulls the dress back slightly, putting her brand on full display.
Her cheeks are red — with humiliation or anger, maybe, or a mixture of both — and she clenches her hands into fists at her sides .
The guard stands his ground, but I can see him sweating. “Back off, buddy. Or I kick you and your entire party out.”
It’s probably a good thing that we’re actually trying to get into this party. Otherwise, there would probably be bloodshed right here on the doorstep of Don Marino’s home.
Yuri’s expression is just as dark as he steps through the metal detector, and the guard is flustered enough to where he only waves him through when the machine stays silent.
“Try that on the way out,” Sierra snaps, adjusting her dress to try to hide more skin. All it does is reveal more of her tits as the fabric settles oddly. “I fucking dare you.”
The guard looks between us, and for all that I can see he doesn’t want to display weakness in front of a woman, he also has the three of us to contend with. He should have more balls if he’s going to be security at a mafia party, but this works in our favor.
“Jesus Christ, Sam, just let them go so we can get on with it,” somebody behind us says.
The guard grumbles, but he steps aside so we can go join the party.
There are ushers and signs pointing in the right direction, and every interesting looking hallway is blocked off or patrolled by more guards. Don Marino likes extravagant parties, but he’s not stupid with regards to security.
Guard at the door excepted, of course.
We all don our masks in front of the ballroom, then head inside.
Sierra is still visibly seething, and I wrap an arm around her — like that’s going to calm her down at all. It only makes her turn her glare on me.
It’s probably a good thing I don’t find her threatening at all. Her anger is cute, even if what caused it isn’t.
As I survey the ballroom, I realize we’ve got a small problem. Even though the masks sort of disguise us, it means we can’t recognize anybody else, either. Sure, up close, I might know who I’m talking to, but right now I can’t pick Don Marino out of the crowd.
Kotya curses under his breath. He must be thinking the same thing. “We’ll need to spread out a bit,” he says softly. He places a hand on the small of Sierra’s back. “Sierrochka, you’re with me. We’ll make the rounds and assess who’s here. Yuri, Nikolai—you know what to do.”
Yuri nods. “Got it, boss,” he answers in Russian. After a brief glance at the rest of us, he peels off toward the bar.
I wave to Kotya and Sierra, then peel off in the opposite direction.
The plan was for Konstantin to keep Don Marino busy, maybe suss out exactly how much he knows. Yuri and I are here to look for opportunities. I’d been hoping to spot a friend or two here, but I’m going to give up on that and focus on the guards and any service entrances.
This isn’t going to be easy, but I know we can pull it off.
I edge my way through the crowd and toward the wall. There’s seating around there, with several people chatting with each other. Half the men have a woman on their lap, and none of them are wearing more than Sierra is.
I ignore them and head to the curtained off area, where I notice men and women in catering uniforms walking in and out. Sure enough, there’s a door to the kitchens there. Unfortunately, there’s also a guard, and he checks every caterer’s badge before letting them through.
Damn.
I guess that means I need one of those badges, and a catering uniform, if I want to make use of that specific door. Still, good to know that it’s there.
“I don’t want to stay that late,” an annoyed voice says. “Why didn’t you bring Danilo instead?”
I glance over to the speaker. He’s a man around my age, I think, although it’s hard to tell with the full face mask he’s wearing. He’s talking to an older man, who is shaking his head.
“We’re staying. I’m not going to insult Don Marino by rejecting a private invite. And I brought you, Raul, because you aren’t going to get distracted the way your brother does.”
I wrack my brain, trying to remember who these two are. Unfortunately I’m not as familiar with all the players in Benton City .
The younger man’s body straightens, but his head swivels to me. I think I notice his eyes narrowing at me through the slits of the mask.
“Never mind. I’m going to find some other people to talk to until then.” He stalks off, disappearing into the throng of people.
The older man looks at me and purses his lips. “Never have children. They’re all ungrateful brats.”
“I’m going to be a father soon,” I blurt out, only to pause and try to figure out why I said that. The ungrateful brat Sierra’s going to be carrying isn’t going to be my child. Even if the baby has my blood running through their veins, it’s still going to be Konstantin’s. I flash him a grin, even though the emotions running through me are mixed at best. “I don’t guess you have any advice for me?”
“Too late for you,” he grunts, taking a sip from his glass. “Just have more than one and hope one of them ends up being worth it.”
More than one.
I can barely handle the idea of one brat running around, let alone multiple. I know Konstantin has plans to get Sierra knocked up often. I’m not sure she realizes that, though. I think she’s assuming he’ll stop after one.
I snort. Yeah. I’m not going to be the one to tell her any differently. “Yeah. Got it.”
Those are problems for the future. I’ve got more immediate issues to contend with. Like the “private invite” the two had been arguing about.
The son had mentioned not wanting to stay that late, so I guess that means there’s an afterparty of some sort—one that we aren’t invited to. I debate trying to pry more details out of this man, but I don’t want to draw attention to myself.
“Hope you enjoy the rest of the party,” I say. “Don Marino went all out.”
The man snorts. “Yes. Thanks to me. I brought at least half of the entertainment.”
Interesting.
“What kind of entertainment?” I ask. I don’t know most of the people here, so I don’t think I’ll be able to identify the man by any sort of details, but I’m curious. Besides, Konstantin will appreciate anything I can find out — if not about this afterparty, but about the guests themselves.
The man inclines his head at me. “What fucking kind do you think?” He scoffs. “You young ones are all the same. Stupid .”
I try not to glare at him as I realize he means the women. “Is the entertainment open to everyone?” I ask. “If so, I think I’ll take advantage of your generosity.”
“That’s what they’re there for,” he mutters.
Again, I have to fight not to scowl. But this was good information. I think. “Thanks for your advice,” I say, flashing him a grin I don’t feel like giving him.
With that, I turn and disappear into the crowd.