2. Help
Chapter two
Help
L evka stepped out onto his balcony overlooking the city of Moscow. With his arms on the railing, he stared out, listening to the random beeps from some impatient driver or the yelling of a distant argument. He had been raised in its chaos and loved it. Here, he was a king, a small one, but powerful nonetheless.
But it didn’t fill him with the same satisfaction as it used. All his control had been ripped from him since his father bartered him to the Morozovs like he was fucking car. The bitterness was overwhelming. Levka thought he wouldn’t have to marry, and now here he was stuck in a contract he couldn’t get out of. His father had told him from a young age to fuck as many women as he wanted, to have as many kids as possible like Genghis Khan. So how could he do that strapped down to a wife?
A knock on his door told him it was nearly time to go.
Tonight was a birthday party for Rurik, Luerna’s deadbeat husband. Since Levka’s father was trying so hard to gain favor with the Morozovs, there was no skipping this ridiculous event.
Levka dressed in a light gray suit with a purple undershirt and matching pocket square. His wolf tattoo crawled up his neck, and he slipped on his family ring, more embarrassed than proud.
He begged to get out of the contract, but his father heard nothing. Apparently, his son’s happiness was no longer important. Levka ignored his father this last month; no matter how hard Ivan tried to butter up his son, he wouldn’t be swayed. No amount of material items could make this better, but the new Rolex did look nice on his wrist.
They arrived at the ballroom. The extravagance was beyond ridiculous. Yakov had old money, money from his father’s father’s father. They owned Russia right down to its core. Nothing was built without Morozov’s approval, and nothing would be destroyed without it either. Levka’s family had always been in the Morozov Empire, but never important enough to gain Yakov’s attention.
Until now.
It would be incredibly stupid to screw up a partnership with them. Levka felt invisible chains strapped to his ankles, put there while his father smiled.
There were dozens of political representatives in the room, and Ivan leaned into his ear. “Look at this. He has everyone in his pocket.” The jealousy in his father’s tone was comical. The Borisyuk family was wealthier than half of Russia, but Ivan had a specific goal: to overrun the Stephanovs. The main family went to America a year ago. Since then, the Borisyuks and the remaining Stephanovs have been at war, but with Morozov’s help, the Borisyuks would officially own Moscow.
Levka left his father mid-sentence, ignoring his hiss of disapproval. He searched for the sons of Bosses. Though he hadn’t been to an event like this in years, not much had changed except everyone was a little taller, and a little more narcissistic.
Rurik Morozov was at the front of the room, surrounded by powerful men, including Yakov Morozov. Rurik was fifty years old with a full head of gray hair and beard. He was thick-boned, but not overweight. Levka doubted he was in any shape with the way he drank. This was the kind of man wasted on a woman like Luerna.
The Morozov sons stood at the bar already on their third shot. They had all gone to the same middle school, and fun, childish memories ran through his head. Alexei and him easily connected back then. They shared the same mentality about working out instead of chasing girls like Adrik and Gil. But as Yakov’s power increased, so did his enemies, so they were taken out in eighth grade and sent to a prestigious private school. It was what prompted his father to send him to an institution in Saint Petersburg.
Being back, Alexei treated him like he never left. The heir to the family greeted him with a hand on his shoulder, making room for him in their small circle. “You guys know Levka.”
Adrik had a harsh gaze, never smiling. “A fucking wolf. What a waste.” He took a shot of vodka, slapped it on the table then pushed by him. Gil, Adrik’s shadow, followed after.
Alexei handed Levka a drink. “Adrik thinks being an asshole gets him more girls. He’s not wrong.”
Levka cackled and took a sip. The vodka burned his throat. He’s been drinking since he was twelve, but he never liked the taste of vodka. Not that he could ever admit that and claim to be Russian.
Levka sat and glanced around, pathetically searching. Despite how hard he told himself not to, he did it anyway. He was looking for Luerna. He just wanted to see her, and then he’d forget about her and go back to pretending she didn’t exist.
“I can’t believe you’re gonna marry my sister.”
“I’m not marrying Kira. I fucking refuse.” Levka winced when he realized who he just said that too.
Thankfully and oddly enough, Alexei laughed. “That sucks. Kira’s actually happy about it.”
“She is?” That was a surprise. Levka dropped his head. He knew they didn’t have much choice, and he should dive into a marriage with all the excitement one could have. But he couldn’t even pretend.
“Why don’t you?”
Levka shook his head. Talking to Alexei wasn’t ideal. Who knew what he would say to his father? “Just want to fuck around. I’m nineteen. I don’t want to be tied down.”
“Yeah, I get it. I’m fighting my own shit with my father. He wants me to marry, too.” Alexei’s knuckles tightened around his glass, and Levka watched him out of the corner of his eye. Levka could only fathom how controlling Yakov was to his sons. He found himself grateful for how loving his father was, and maybe the silent treatment didn’t have to continue.
“I think,” Alexei took a sip of his drink and swallowed. “That if he tried to make me marry, I’d fuck it up somehow.”
The subtle suggestion didn’t go unnoticed, and Levka was very curious about what he meant. “How?”
He shrugged. “Piss off the family. Make my father not want to partner with them.”
Levka rolled the idea around in his head for a bit. If he screwed up the deal with Yakov, it could ruin his family. He was selfish, but he wasn’t stupid. But what was the alternative? Marrying Kira while he was in love with her sister? He may already have no chance of ever being with Luerna, but if he became part of the family, it would destroy any possibility, even the outrageous, dumb, ridiculous possibilities.
“Kira!” Alexei waved, and Levka nervously shifted in his seat. Kira wore a dark purple gown that was fit for a witch’s ball. She stood out in a room full of white, silver, and gold. Like all Morozov women, she was beautiful and perhaps the only one who didn’t care what people thought. It was refreshing to see a woman who wasn’t anorexic. Kira smiled, and it lit up her face. She was older than him by three years, but she still had that childish bubbly personality that Luerna lacked.
He stood as she approached, taking her brother’s arm. “Hi, Levka.”
It’s the first time they actually spoke to each other since he left for boarding school. It was clear she had grown up in his absence, but her oddity still shined through. “Miss Morozov.”
“Call me Kira. You look nice.”
The formalities were killing him. He hated this game of pleasantry, but with her brother beside her, he kept up with the game. “You look gorgeous. How have you been?”
“I’m finishing up my college courses. I’m third in my class.”
“Wow. What’s your degree in?”
“Law. My father wanted more lawyers in the family for some reason.”
He smiled at her subtle joke.
“Are you planning to go to college?”
Levka stuttered with a response. He hadn’t told his father yet that he didn’t want to pursue any higher education. He was sure that conversation wasn’t going to go well.
“Kira,” Adrik interrupted, unapologetic. “Father wants you.” With a hand on her bicep, he led her away.
Levka took a sip of his drink, careless of Adrik’s attitude. He’s holding a grudge because Levka went up against him in basketball in seventh grade and won. The poor man’s pride couldn’t handle the defeat.
There she is.
Levka’s gaze followed the movement. It was a flash of gold and blond hair but he knew it was her—instinctively—naturally. He shifted, watching as Luerna dipped out of the crowd and slipped through a doorway.
Levka didn’t hesitate. He took up his drink and excused himself before he ran out after her. He was blind in his attempt. He didn’t care who noticed him. He was out the door, searching while trying to remain in control, but desperation was clawing at him.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.” Luerna’s sharp whispers were enough to pull him in her direction with a curious smile on his lips.
He found her in a hallway, trapped in a corner. With her back to him, she was leaning over and holding something to her chest. She wore a smooth gold dress that glittered in the light. Her long neck was exposed, with her hair up in a twisted braid, leading to all sorts of inappropriate thoughts.
“You alright?”
Her head snapped around. Her sharp blue eyes pinned him frozen. “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you. Go away.”
Levka didn’t move. Why was she always so curt with him? Did she see him as an annoying child pulling at her skirt? “What’s wrong?” he asked forcefully, hoping she could see a man in front of her willing to help.
She scoffed and cursed again, “I told him I wasn’t ready. But what the fuck do I know?” With defeat in her shoulders, she slapped her hands down and turned to him. Tears pooled in her eyes as she exposed the stains on her silk dress. Milk leaked from each breast, leaving an embarrassing dark trail.
Humiliation was all over her face. “Think you can help with this?” The question dripped with sarcasm as if he was too dumb to be of any aid. She shook her head. “I can’t catch a break.” Her hands went to her face, groaning.
Levka had rarely ever seen Luerna, but she was always intense. She moved with purpose, never sitting still or unsure of herself. She was fierce in everything she put her mind to. And this was him just getting glimpses of her. To see her raw, honest, and broken gave him the barest hope that he could somehow gain her attention. If he only had the solution to her problem.
“Don’t get pissed at me,” he warned.
Luerna took her hands away from her face. “What?”
Levka threw his drink at her, and a sudden gasp quickly replaced the confusion.
She blinked at him as liquid dripped to the floor. “What the fuck?”
Levka smiled, and out of spite or to make her laugh, he held the glass over her and let the last drops fall. “There. Fixed.”
A half laugh snuck out of her before she clamped her mouth shut. “Thanks,” she nipped.
“Anytime.”
“Probably could have just given me your jacket.”
Levka touched his expensive suit. “I like my jacket.”
Her exasperated expression forced him to act. He held out the glass. “Hold this.” After she snatched it out of his hand, he unbuttoned his coat, keeping his eyes on her the whole time. Her blue gaze flickered to the left and right, avoiding him, but it only encouraged him to be as awkward as possible. He wanted to be unforgettable. He wanted her to think about him weeks from now and perhaps the next time there’s a party, she’ll wonder if that strange man was there too.
Levka stepped up to her, and though she held out her other hand for the jacket, he ignored her and swung it around her shoulders. He was close enough to see the thin tendrils gracing her cheek, the perfected makeup on her thick lips, and the dark lashes of her eyelids. He thought she was taller. Or perhaps she had been at one point, but now he was looking down at her. “Not such a kid anymore, am I?”
The flush of her cheeks accelerated his heart. He wanted to know what it meant. If, at the very least, she found him attractive. His gaze dropped to her painted lips, the closest he’d ever been. Every fantasy and daydream he’s ever had couldn’t compare to reality.
Her head dropped. “Thank you.” She stepped back.
Levka pulled away and snapped out of his stupidity. He took the glass out of her hand, glancing into it, wishing there was just a little left to smother the ache in his chest.
“I hear you’re marrying my sister.”
“Not if I can help it.” The words fell off his lips too fast to stop it. He snapped his head up, wide-eyed. “I mean, I would love the opportunity–”
“You don’t have to convince me,” she assured.
Luerna clenched the edge of his jacket, the smell of him intoxicating. She blamed her ridiculous hormones but found herself leaning into the fabric until her nose touched the seam. She could feel his eyes on her like there was nothing better to look at. She wished to see what he saw because all she felt in the last year was utter hatred for her body.
But for a moment, under his intense gaze, she remembered what it felt like to be beautiful.
Luerna hardened herself. He was a boy; of course, he found her attractive. Anything with tits and a vagina was attractive at his age. She straightened herself, rebuilding the walls that had been momentarily forgotten. “My sister will treat you well. If you would kindly do the same.” Luerna went to step by him, but Levka stepped in front of her, and she snapped her head up again.
“I don’t want your sister,” he boldly explained, hoping she heard in the subtle lines of everything he couldn’t say.
A scoff and a soft annoyed smile. “When has it ever mattered what we want?”
“Shouldn’t it?”
She shook her head, annoyed. “I think it’s incredibly arrogant of you to preach to me. But why am I surprised? You’re a man. The world revolves around what you want. As long as your dick’s happy, who cares about anybody else?”
Levka could only smile at her. This was the woman he’d known over the years. It reminded him of a caged tiger pacing the bars of her cage, daring anyone to let her out so she could claw their face off. It was good to know that underneath her depression, the fight in her soul still existed. He wanted to be the one to free her. To unleash her on the world and let her ravage the land. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Yakov kept her chained when she so clearly was fit to lead the Morozov empire. “You are a ray of sunshine, Mrs. Morozov,” he replied with a sneaky grin.
Luerna wanted to punch him in the face.
“Luerna?” Rurik’s voice sounded down the hall.
Levka stepped back at the exact moment Luerna pushed herself away. He watched her, desperate to know why she separated from him so fast as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t. “Here,” Luerna called out, tightening the jacket around her.
Rurik came around the corner, and he eyed Levka with disdain for a moment before he turned his attention to her. “What happened?”
“It was an accident,” she assured. “We bumped into each other, and his drink spilled over me.”
He glanced back at Levka and waited. Quickly, Levka bowed his head. “I apologize, Mr. Morozov.”
Rurik turned his back, dismissing Levka and gripped Luerna’s arms. “Did you plan this?”
Luerna scoffed, flinching out of his hold. “No, I didn’t plan this.”
Levka backed up. He knew he didn’t belong in this conversation and should go, but Rurik’s aggressiveness kept him still.
Rurik kept his voice barely above a whisper, “You didn’t want to be here, and now look at you. Stay here, and I’ll send a servant to get you a dress.”
“I just want to go home.”
“You’ll do what I tell you. I have many business partners here, and you will not embarrass me. What will they think, you abandoning my birthday? Your father will think it’s my fault.”
“You care so much what my father thinks of you, it’s ridiculous.”
Rurik grabbed her arm, pulling her close. “Shut your mouth.” He took hold of the jacket and snatched it from her arms. “You smell like a wolf.” Rurik chucked it at Levka. “Get the hell out of here, boy. Think I’m stupid? Think I don’t know what you were trying to do?”
Levka went to speak, dumbfounded on what spilling a drink on his wife could possibly mean, but Luerna interrupted with a sharp reply, “You gonna fight a teenage boy, Rurik? Really?”
Levka fisted his jacket and clenched his teeth as he looked at Luerna, but her blue eyes were on her husband, dangerous and combative. He shouldn’t despise her for the insult, but it hurt more than he was willing to admit. He pushed himself further back, even though it ripped him apart, leaving her with her husband.
“All I asked you for was one night. One night, Luerna. I have given you months of space. I deserve a little credit.”
Levka turned the corner and pushed himself down the hall.