21. Nikolai
21
NIKOLAI
I pace in my study, a glass of whiskey in hand, while my brothers sprawl across the leather furniture like they own the place. Erik’s smirk particularly grates on my nerves today.
“So, the Ice King finally melts for a woman,” Dmitri drawls, examining his fingernails. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
My gaze turns deadly as it meets his. “Focus on business. The Italian situation?—”
“Oh no,” Alexi cuts in, the youngest and most reckless of us all. “We’re not letting you deflect. You’ve been holed up here for days with her. This isn’t like you, brother.”
“She’s different,” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Erik barks out a laugh. “Different? Our brother, the strategist, blindsided by a gallery owner of all people?”
“Watch your tone.” My voice drops dangerously low.
“Hey, we’re happy for you,” Dmitri raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just... surprised. You’ve never let anyone get this close.”
I hear movement from upstairs, knowing it’s Sofia getting ready for dinner. The thought of her wearing one of the dresses I selected makes my blood heat.
“She’s more than she appears,” I say carefully. “There are... complications with her background we need to discuss.”
“Of course there are,” Erik scoffs. “You couldn’t just fall for a normal woman.”
“When have any of us done anything normally?” Alexi grins.
The sound of heels on marble makes us all look up. My brothers exchange knowing glances at my instant reaction to her approaching presence.
“Not. One. Word.” I warn them, but their grins only widen.
“Don’t worry, brother,” Dmitri stands, straightening his jacket. “We’ll be perfect gentlemen.”
I watch Sofia descend the stairs in a midnight blue dress that clings to every curve. My brothers’ heads turn in unison, but a low growl from me has them averting their eyes. All except Alexi, who grins and winks at her.
“So you’re the one who’s got our brother acting like a lovesick teenager,” he says.
Sofia raises an eyebrow. “And you must be the troublemaker of the family.”
“He wishes he was that interesting,” Dmitri cuts in smoothly. “I’m Dmitri. The actual dangerous one.”
Erik snorts into his whiskey. “Says the man who color-codes his sock drawer.”
“At least I don’t sleep with a knife collection,” Dmitri shoots back.
“Boys,” I warn, but Sofia’s laugh makes me pause. She seems comfortable. It’s unexpected.
“Let me guess,” she points to Erik. “You’re the quiet one who probably knows fifteen ways to kill someone with a butter knife.”
Erik’s lips twitch. “Twenty-three, actually.”
“I like her,” Alexi declares, sprawling back in his chair. “Can we keep her?”
“She’s not a stray puppy,” I growl, pulling Sofia closer to my side.
“No, I’m not,” she agrees, but there’s amusement in her voice. “I’m much harder to house train.”
Dmitri chokes on his drink while Alexi howls with laughter. Even Erik cracks a real smile.
“See? Perfect for the family,” Alexi says between chuckles. “Anyone who can make Nikolai squirm like that deserves a seat at the table.”
I’m about to object when Sofia squeezes my hand. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me making a man uncomfortable.”
I guide Sofia to her seat, settling beside her at the head of the table. My brothers arrange themselves around us as servers bring out the first course.
“So, Dmitri,” Sofia leans forward slightly, “Nikolai mentioned you handle the legitimate business side. What drew you to finance?”
My hand squeezes her thigh under the table as Dmitri launches into a carefully edited version of his Harvard years. Her muscles tense briefly under my touch before relaxing.
“And Erik,” she turns to my quietest brother, “those medical texts in the library, are they yours?”
Erik’s eyebrows raise fractionally. Most people don’t notice details like that. “Yes. Field medicine from my military days.”
“Military?” She takes a sip of wine. “Which branch?”
“Spetsnaz,” he answers shortly, but I catch the hint of approval in his tone.
My thumb traces circles on her thigh as Alexi jumps in. “Ask me something interesting. These two are boring.”
Sofia laughs, the sound making my grip tighten possessively. “Alright. What’s the most impressive system you’ve ever hacked?”
“Now that’s a good question,” Alexi grins, launching into a sanitized version of his MIT exploits.
I watch her navigate my brothers with surprising skill, drawing out Erik’s rare smiles and managing Alexi’s chaos while matching Dmitri’s sharp wit. Her hand occasionally covers mine under the table, fingers intertwining as she listens intently to their stories.
“You’ve built something remarkable together,” she observes during a lull in conversation, looking around at my brothers. “The way you all complement each other’s strengths.”
“Nikolai built it,” Erik corrects quietly. “We just followed his lead.”
“Don’t let him fool you,” Dmitri adds. “He’s always been the strategist.”
I squeeze her thigh, warning as Alexi opens his mouth, likely to share something inappropriate. But Sofia just smiles, turning to catch my eye with a look that makes my blood heat.
“I’m beginning to understand that about him,” she says softly.
I watch Sofia at the dinner table, something unfamiliar tightening in my chest as she draws another rare smile from Erik. The way she handles my brothers is so careful but confident, sharp but warm, and it stirs feelings I’ve spent decades denying.
When she catches Alexi trying to deflect a question about his MIT days, her eyes sparkle with intelligence. She doesn’t press, but her slight head tilt tells me she’s pieced together more than she lets on. Smart girl.
“The way you all protect each other,” she says softly, her fingers still intertwined with mine under the table. “It’s beautiful.”
The word catches me off guard. Beautiful isn’t something associated with the Ivanov brothers. Dangerous, yes. Powerful, certainly. But her genuine appreciation of our bond strikes deeper than expected.
I watch as Alexi leans back in his chair, that familiar mischievous glint in his eye that usually precedes trouble.
“You know,” he says, swirling his whiskey, “I hacked Nikolai’s personal files the other day. Found this fascinating folder labeled ‘Gallery Surveillance.’ Never seen our big brother so... thorough in his research.”
Sofia stiffens beside me, but before I can silence him, Alexi continues.
“There were these absolutely riveting shots of someone doing yoga at six a.m. I particularly enjoyed the extensive notes about her coffee preferences. ‘Two sugars, splash of cream, but only before noon. Afternoon coffee black.’ Really, brother? And my personal favorite: ‘Sleep position analysis tends to curl toward the right side, suggesting?—’”
“Alexi,” I growl, but he’s already doubled over laughing.
“Oh! And the spreadsheet! Three weeks of documented outfits, color-coded by how much they ‘pleased’ you. I didn’t even know there were that many shades of approval between ‘acceptable’ and ‘immediately remove.’”
Sofia’s eyes are wide as she glances at me quizzically. My obsession indeed took on a life of its own. “Is he being serious?”
I clench my jaw. “You know I took a serious interest in you and your life, but we’re moving past that, right?”
The stubborn set of her jaw tells me that she’s not as willing to move past it as I’d hoped.
Erik coughs to hide his amusement.
“I can show you the file structure later.” Alexi winks at Sofia. “It’s categorized more meticulously than Dmitri’s sock drawer.”
“I will end you,” I state flatly, but Alexi grins wider.
“What was that note about the red dress? Something about it being ‘criminally distracting’ and needing to be ‘confiscated for public safety’?”
I launch across the mahogany table, crashing a crystal glass onto the floor. Alexi, the little shit, jumps back with that insufferable grin still plastered on his face.
“Too slow, old man!” He darts behind a chair, but I’m already moving.
I catch him mid-stride and tackle him onto the leather sofa. We tumble in a mess of limbs, my hands seeking purchase on his shoulders while he tries to squirm away.
“Delete. Those. Files.” I punctuate each word with an attempt to pin him down.
“Never!” He laughs, jabbing an elbow into my ribs. “They’re my new favorite bedtime reading!”
Erik and Dmitri watch with identical expressions of amusement as I get my youngest brother in a headlock. Alexi might be quick, but I didn’t become who I am by being slow.
“Uncle! Uncle!” He taps my arm, still laughing.
I release him and straighten my jacket, trying to regain some dignity. When I glance at Sofia, I expect to see horror or disgust at my loss of control. Instead, her eyes are bright with joy, a genuine smile lighting up her face.
The sight stops me cold. She’s watching us—watching me—with pure delight as if seeing something precious. Not the calculated violence she knows I’m capable of, not the controlled businessman I present to the world, but this... this moment of brotherly chaos.
I settle back into my chair, studying her expression. She reaches for my hand under the table, squeezing gently.
“So,” she says, eyes dancing. “Tell me more about this color-coding system.”
Alexi’s renewed laughter echoes through the room as I groan, but I can’t seem to summon my usual anger. Not with her looking at me like that.