Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Apollo
Rayna Todorov is the most baffling, stubborn, audacious woman I have ever met.
Our fight last night is still playing on a loop in my head as we board our private plane to go home.
The way she confronted me, threw Leon’s shirt in my face like it was a fucking baseball, and the way she acted after feeling insulted.
I don’t understand her. Rather than being grateful for the things I’m offering her, she’s suspicious and angry.
She’s like a feral cat, hissing and running away from everyone and everything, even someone trying to feed her.
The only person she seems to care about is her little brother—a quality I can’t even fault her for.
She seems to be able to fault me for anything, though. In fact, I think Rayna Todorov might despise me.
Yet here she is, still wearing my shirt. She changed out of Leon’s sweatpants too, putting on her black slacks from last night instead. Her choice in clothing holds very little of my attention, though. Instead, my eyes gravitate toward the bruising on her face.
The purplish hue to her under-eye fills me with disgust and rage that’s difficult to hide and ignore. I should have had Nico torture her husband instead of disposing of him so quickly in the ocean.
Avoiding being obvious about where I’m staring, I look around the group of familiar faces boarding the plane. I find my father grinning at me, and I know he’s caught me studying Rayna.
He’s going to meddle, I can feel it.
Ignoring my father, I sigh and tip my head back to the morning sun.
It’s going to be a crowded flight with our big family, Jade and Dmitri included.
The two of them decided not to do a traditional honeymoon any time soon.
Their twins are too young for them to feel comfortable leaving behind, even if they’d be with family.
And bringing two one-year-olds on a vacation essentially defeats the purpose of a vacation.
To my left, Armani groans and leans against our sister for stability.
“What’d you say? I’m too hungover to hear properly.”
Jade scoffs. “Didn’t you say you have too much appreciation for your body to get sloppy drunk?”
Armani pouts. “Colton was supposed to be minding me.”
Ana laughs, standing at Jade’s other side while her smile brightens. “Colton is as hungover as you are!”
The sleepy cowboy huffs, propping an elbow up on Ana’s shoulder. “He peer-pressured me, doll. I’m a victim.”
“You’re a weakling,” she counters. “You could have told him no.”
“Who could say no to this face?” Armani smirks, winking slowly.
Armani and Colton sandwiching Jade and Ana between them isn’t surprising. Dmitri and Cassio are helping load the baggage, and of course they wouldn’t leave their wives alone.
“What are you feeding these children?” Matteo asks, dramatically stomping over to the group. He’s holding Cesar on one hip, and Isobella on the other while pretending to struggle under their weights. “They’re getting to be hefty little gremlins, aren’t they?”
Cesar giggles and blows a raspberry like he can understand Matteo’s nonsense. Isobella just yawns and snuggles into his arm.
“Maybe you’re just losing muscle mass with all the lounging around you’re doing lately,” Jade snarks, reaching out to take her daughter. “Uncle Matteo is a frail little goober now, isn’t he?”
Our brother gasps, clutching Cesar close. “Do you hear the way she treats me? Oh, the cruelty.”
Cesar sticks out his hand to grab the back of his uncle’s hair, pulling hard. “Jesus,” Matteo grunts, wincing. “All right, all right, I didn’t mean to call you heavy. I was saying how big and strong you’re growing, you menace.”
Ana and Jade both laugh.
I’m beginning to grow impatient with waiting when the boarding process finally picks up. Within the next ten minutes, the last of us have made it onto the plane.
Most of the family with young children have migrated toward the back while everyone else has sprinkled in wherever they feel most comfortable.
I spot Yordan and Rayna in the middle, sharing a double seater couch. I’m debating on whether or not to migrate closer to them when Leon takes the seat across from Rayna and extends a small white bundle toward her.
“For your eye,” he explains as Cleo drops into the seat next to him, huffing quietly. “It’s just a shitty first-aid ice pack but it’ll help the swelling.”
Rayna hesitates but accepts it, her fingers brushing his as she takes the offering. “Thank you.”
Leon replies something in Bulgarian, and I curse the fact that I don’t understand it. I never thought his ability would come in handy, we don’t have treaties or deals with any Bulgarian syndicates. He only learned the language to speak with his nanny like two decades ago.
The fact that he had a crush so big that he became fluent in an entirely new language has never made sense to me.
I’ve never liked anyone that much, let alone a married woman twice my age.
But now I wish I learned with him, or made him teach me the bare minimum.
I don’t like that he can converse with Rayna without me knowing what they’re saying.
The pair exchange more unfamiliar words, even drawing Yordan into the conversation. It seems like mostly pleasantries based on the way that Rayna remains cautious but Yordan smiles wide and talks easily.
“What’s your name again?” Cleo asks, her tone somewhere between icy cold and sickly sweet.
The fact that she’s even sitting next to Leon instead of joining Melani in the back of the plane to be with her children means I was right to have Rayna change out of Leon’s shirt.
Cleo may be romantically uninvolved with her husband, but she also tends to exhibit undeniable jealousy when Leon experiences any female attention.
Rayna holds her gaze, refusing to react to the tense nature of Cleo’s question. “Rayna Todorov.”
“You don’t go by Todorova?” Leon asks lightly, head inclining. “Bulgarian surnames are traditionally gendered, yes?”
Rayna nods slowly, turning her head to face him as she answers. “Todorov is easier with English speakers, adding the ‘a’ has made people disassociate Yordan from me in the past. If I’m speaking to someone in Bulgarian, I use Todorova.”
“Heaven forbid someone thinks we might not be related,” Yordan teases, nudging her with his elbow lightly.
“Yes,” she says firmly. “Heaven. Forbid.”
“Okay, snappy.” Yordan huffs a short laugh. “I’m only kidding. I like sharing the same name, too. I’ll start going by Yordan Todorova, take my turn being the grammatically incorrect one.”
His declaration earns a genuine laugh from Rayna. It’s light and airy, but musical in a way that grabs my attention.
“Our sister doesn’t use the ‘a’ either,” Ivan says suddenly. “She’s dropped it entirely. For the same reason, she prefers it matching ours perfectly. And she’s lived in America her whole life, so it feels normal.”
“Ivan Morozov, right?” Yordan asks, reaching forward to extend his hand. “I’m Yordan.”
Ivan takes it and shakes it once. “You know a lot of names by faces, Yordan. You’d make a good spy.”
The air in the cabin shifts, sensing the deeper meaning to Ivan’s words. He isn’t complimenting Yordan, he’s accusing him. Thankfully, the comment doesn’t scare the teen, it makes him chuckle.
“No, I wouldn’t. I’m the farthest thing from sneaky, discreet, and observant. I once tripped into a champagne tower.”
Rayna hides a smile. “I think you can forgive yourself for that now, Yordan. You were ten, you shouldn’t have been anywhere near a champagne tower anyway.”
Ivan looks between the pair of siblings and seems to drop his suspicion. He’s protective of anyone that comes near Jade, Dmitri, and their babies. It’s one of the things I appreciate most about him.
He doesn’t need to worry about the Todorov siblings. I know a spy when I see one, and neither of these two have nefarious intentions where my family is concerned. Rayna may want to chop my balls off, but that seems to have nothing to do with my last name and everything to do with my personality.
“Are you going to sit, son?”
I stiffen, looking over my shoulder to blink at my father. I can hear Leon continuing to speak with Rayna and Yordan, but force their voices out of my head to address our Capo.
“I could ask you the same.”
He chuckles, dropping down into the seat behind him and gesturing to the chair across from him. “Join me.”
I had planned to.
Sitting anywhere else wouldn’t be logical.
“I don’t like the glimmer in your eye,” I tell him bluntly, sitting down and folding my hands into my lap. “You’re plotting.”
“You seemed very interested in your guest’s conversation. Tell me, son, how hard was it for you to focus on anything other than her?”
“Seems like you’re asking the wrong son.” I lift my shoulders nonchalantly. “Your golden boy is the one that can’t keep his eyes off of her. Perhaps you should start planning a divorce rather than a wedding.”
Dad smirks. “Leon is a good boy. He’s making her feel welcome, and he isn’t looking at her the way you think he is.”
“I think his wife might beg to differ.”
“Perhaps the appearance of competition will motivate her to address how she feels for him after all these years.”
Jesus Christ.
“Do you wake up with the urge to meddle coursing through your veins or does it build after you’ve had your morning coffee?”
He chuckles. “I don’t know where you get your stubbornness from.”
“Says the man who could hold a grudge all the way into his grave.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Dad hums. “My Apollo, my mirror child.”
My jaw ticks. “You’re in a teasing mood too often lately. Living with Jade and the babies has softened you.”
“Speaking of babies,” he says, looking over my shoulder.
I turn my head to find Emilio helping his daughter Mila walk down the narrow isle.
She’s holding both of his hands, her arms outstretched above her head as she sports a giddy smile.
Her casual sundress with yellow and white daisies decorating the skirt, and her shiny brown curls are pulled into two pigtails with matching yellow bows.
“Pa-apa!” she squeals, wiggling past me to reach for Dad’s legs.
He doesn’t hesitate to scoop her up, allowing her to sit on one of his legs. She’s two now, but looks tiny for her age in his arms. “Hello, piccolina.” Looking up at Emilio he nods in greeting. “Son.”
“She wanted to get away from all the other babies,” Emilio says with a chuckle. “Too much chaos too early in the morning, I imagine.”
“Can’t blame her,” I mutter.
“You seem cheery,” Emilio says, lips twitching into a calculated grin. “Is it because Leon is chatting up your girl?”
Dad chuckles, chest shaking with amusement. “Careful, it’s a touchy subject for him.”
“She’s not my girl, and if she was, I wouldn’t find Leon to be a threat.”
“You sure?” Emilio lifts a brow. “Blondes with pretty smiles tend to be quite charming.”
“You would know,” I deadpan. “You married one.”
“Sure did.”
“We’ll be taking off in a minute,” Dad says, cutting into the conversation. “Are you joining us, or just Mila?”
“I’ll be back and forth, but I’m going to hold Isobella for the take off. Jade still gets a little nauseous.”
“Bye bye,” Mila chirps, opening and closing her small hand to wave her father off.
Emilio smiles brightly at her. “Bye bye, sweet girl.” He kisses the top of her head and makes a move to leave, pausing before walking off.
“Oh, and Apollo?” he asks sweetly. “You might not find Leon threatening, but Elio just joined the conversation.”
Oh fucking hell. Can this day get any more unbearable?
Emilio and Elio are identical twins, though they’re easy to tell apart these days. Emilio keeps his hair longer and his face free of stubble, while Elio sports a trimmed style and often has a short beard.
Emilio is also married, happily. While Elio is the kind of brooding but kind man that draws in plenty of female attention—usually the kind that he doesn’t entertain. But the last thing I need is for Rayna to fall for his charm and become attached.
“So, she’ll have to endure looking at the equivalent of your face for the whole flight?” I purse my lips in distaste. “Poor thing.”
Emilio scowls. “Prick.”
“Stick!” Mila shouts, trying to mimic him.
“Yes, a stick is exactly what Uncle Apollo has shoved up his—”
“Shirt,” Dad cuts in, giving us both a disapproving look. “Small, innocent ears, boys. Mind your manners.”
“I didn’t say anything,” I defend, holding up my hands.
“You didn’t need to.”
Emilio takes his cue to leave and Dad looks down at his granddaughter, speaking to her in quiet Italian words.
I watch Emilio go, letting my eyes wander to his twin as he passes.
Elio is speaking privately with Rayna, sharing a serious look and hidden words.
My jaw clenches and I turn my head, refusing to be caught lurking.
“She’s going to drive you crazy.” Dad chuckles. “I can’t wait.”
There’s no need to wait.
Rayna is already driving me crazy.