Chapter 13 Sergei
SERGEI
With how late I was out last night, I would’ve appreciated having the chance to sleep in.
Knowing Natalie and Maisie were in my home changed that preference.
I got up early because I anticipated she might.
As soon as she was up, she would be after me for answers and an explanation about how I got off demanding that she come home with me.
Telling her that I was a member of the Orlov Family would be the kind of news to reignite any fear in her eyes.
We were powerful, wealthy, and ruthless, so much so that ordinary society knew better than to mess with us.
Our very name suggested a penchant and possibility of violence, and she would react like any other common citizen might—with fear, confusion, and dread.
Before I could decide how much or little to explain to her, I had to decide what I wanted to do with her.
My curiosity about her had yet to be sated.
My protective instincts were only deepening, not lightening up.
I wasn’t done with her, but I also felt like I hadn’t even really started anything with her.
I hadn’t claimed her. She hadn’t asked me out.
We were mutually distant and not in any rush to push the other into a relationship or obligation.
There was still time to back off, to let her go and not complicate her life by knowing me.
It was that decision that had me scowling over my coffee in the lounge, near the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up a whole wall of my residence high up above the rest of the city.
Do I let her go?
Try to keep her?
The burning desire that flared hotter after her kisses suggested I couldn’t walk away yet.
It was far too early to know what to do about her, but the way I’d stepped in to save her without hesitation last night was the triggering point that would force my hand now.
I had to decide something. I had to have a game plan for what I would explain to her when she woke up.
First, though, I could help myself to getting answers of my own.
After I brought her up here and asked Claire to check both of them over, I asked George to do a quick search about Natalie, just to get a basic understanding of who she was.
Letting a stranger into my life wasn’t a simple mistake to ever commit.
Allowing a stranger into my building, one of five that made up the block the family owned, would be a reckless mistake I’d never forgive myself for.
That was how careful we had to be about whom we gave permission to be close.
I grabbed my phone and opened the text thread that I had with George.
He’d no doubt handled my request shortly after I made it.
A simple reach out to the cyber specialists my uncle employed was all it took.
In my hands, as I sipped my coffee and willed my brain and body to wake up more, I had the report of a few searches done on Natalie.
Skimming the material efficiently, I let the important details sink in. The rest could wait. I wanted to know everything about her, but for now, I focused on the big things.
No family—her parents passed away years ago in a car accident.
No siblings or other relatives—no one would come looking for her.
She was originally from a small town outside the city, and she had held down a variety of dime-a-dozen, entry-level jobs, all of them part-time.
Not much college education. Formerly married.
Furrowing my brow as I read how Natalie Green became Mrs. Hayes, I resisted the flicker of jealousy that rose up inside me, smoking with wicked embers of envy that didn’t make sense.
Of course, she’d had another man in her life. The father of her daughter. Maisie clearly hadn’t come to be through immaculate conception.
I had no right to be annoyed that Natalie had another man before, that she had a past and had been in love to marry someone else.
I had a past too. I never settled with any woman.
I sure as fuck wasn’t celibate, but I wasn’t as much of a player as my brother was.
Roman slept around more than any of us ever had.
He avoided actually giving a woman the title of girlfriend, and until Claire showed up and made an impact on Mikhail, I would’ve believed us four—my uncle, my brother, my cousin, and I—were destined to be bachelors forever.
Natalie’s husband had been killed a little over a year ago, though, so there was no question that she was available. She wasn’t cheating or having an affair. I doubted that she had the sort of personality to ever do that, anyway.
Is that why she seems so skittish? So nervous? Because she lost her husband and is raising her daughter on her own?
As I nursed my coffee and thought some more about it, I recalled how clueless Natalie had always seemed when men gave her attention at the Diamond Mirage. Like she lacked the experience of how to handle a guy talking to her at all.
Except me.
She was still nervous with me, especially at first, but she’d warmed up to rely on me to help her out as her fake boyfriend.
Frustrated with the questions swirling in my head, I set my coffee down and wondered if I had the patience to wait for her to get up and seek me out. I wouldn’t push. I couldn’t. Bringing her here was already such a change, and I would probably benefit from letting her think she had some space.
Not much longer, she came out of the guest room. The door opened and closed with a quiet click, likely from her effort to not wake Maisie. Which was smart. Talking to Natalie without Maisie’s innocent ears listening in would be better.
Her footsteps were light and quiet. But it didn’t take her long to find me in the semi-darkness of the lounge as the sun continued to rise up to kiss the horizon.
I met her gaze as she walked into the lounge, still wearing the same clothes she’d had on last night. Her bar “uniform” couldn’t be very clean or comfortable, and I hoped that after our discussion, she’d feel more at ease to change.
The wariness in her gaze was expected. Dark circles lining under her eyes hinted at the likelihood that she didn’t sleep soundly last night. She always looked stressed, and it saddened me that she would feel so trapped in her life that she had to exist in nothing but survivor mode.
“Did you sleep well?” As soon as the words left my lips, she smirked.
I shook my head. Stupid. Clearly, she didn’t. “Did you sleep at all?” I asked instead.
“Not really.”
I wanted to ask why and how I could help her. Bringing her here was safer than letting her take her chances in that unsecured building. But she hadn’t wanted to come here. Her protest about my taking charge would be the first thing for her to pin on me.
“Did Maisie sleep well?”
She nodded. “She’s always been a reliable sleeper. I was afraid that the random violence of those men following us on the sidewalk would’ve kept her awake. But she didn’t even stir when Claire came to see us.”
She took a couple more steps toward me and opened her mouth as if she was ready to launch into too many questions.
I stood, cutting her off. This wouldn’t be a short, simple conversation. If she had gotten as little sleep as I had, she would need caffeine as much as I did. Holding up my hand, I gestured at my empty cup. “Would you like some coffee first?”
Her eyes lit up as if I’d said the magic word to spark some life into her.
“Yes, please,” she replied, following me into the kitchen.
It didn’t escape my notice that she maintained a distance from me, keeping the big island between us.
As she sat, though, she proved that she wasn’t able to wait until we had our drinks to ask me anything.
“Sergei… who are you? And why do you want me and my daughter here?”
I busied myself with pouring her a cup.
“Where did you get the impression that you could tell me how to live my life and that I have to obey your orders?”
I zoned out, staring at the dark liquid.
“I appreciate your stepping in to save us last night. I owe you everything I am and everything I have for protecting my daughter. She is all I have in this world and all that matters.”
I shook my head, turning to face her and present her with the cup. “You don’t owe me anything.”
Grasping the mug with both hands, as if she needed a lifeline, she lowered her gaze. Almost as if she were disappointed with my answer. Like I was insulting her intelligence.
“I don’t need to have any details to understand that you and I come from different worlds.
You are wealthy, with bodyguards, cars, and a private doctor on call.
And this place.” She glanced around, stunned.
“You are armed and skilled with a gun. Last night, you proved that you know how to fight and survive street violence, that you are capable of violence yourself. I”—she pointed at herself—“have nothing but the goal of ensuring my daughter has the safest life possible with all I can manage.”
“I can help you with that.” Maybe wording it as help would take the sting out of how I’d ordered her to come home with me.
“But why?” She furrowed her brow. “I know it was dumb to blurt out that you were my boyfriend at the bar. I was desperate—”
I set my hand on hers, hoping physical contact would soothe her. “You still are desperate, Natalie.”
She yanked her hands out of my reach.
I had never been that great with words. I let out a deep sigh. “I dread to think of what could’ve happened last night if I hadn’t been there.”
She sat back more, crossing her arms. “Why were you there? You had to have been stalking me to know where I live.”
I shrugged, owning up to it. “Would you rather me not show up?”
Chagrined, she frowned. “No. I appreciate it. I don’t know what I would’ve done otherwise.” A weak laugh left her lips. “I guess you’re right. I am desperate.”
I frowned at her self-deprecating tone. “What I mean to say is that you are in a desperate situation.” That sounded better. “Your building isn’t secure. Those men could easily follow you again. And without anyone else in your life or home, it is a desperate situation.”
“How do you know…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “What makes you think I don’t have anyone else?”
“I don’t think. I know.” I licked my lips and fought a smile. “Because there’s no damn way you would’ve kissed me like you did if you had someone else satisfying you.”
A sweet blush rose up on her cheeks. But now wasn’t the time for that.
“We are friends,” I said, hoping that wouldn’t launch another point of argument. “I have the means and interest in looking out for my friends. That is why you are here and will be here for as long as is necessary.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Necessary? And which of us will determine that?”
“We’ll discuss it,” I said, standing and leaving it open-ended. “In the meantime…” I tipped my chin in the direction of where she’d come from. Maisie’s little footsteps sounded on the floor. “Make yourself at home while keeping her safe.”
She blinked at me, as if only now realizing I was once again having the last word.
“Mommy?” Maisie walked into the kitchen, yawning.
“There you are.” Natalie slapped a smile on and faced her daughter, holding her arms out for her to climb onto her lap. “Good morning.”
Maisie replied in kind as she peered up at me from her mother’s lap, looking precious and adorable. I didn’t know her. I hadn’t realized she’d even existed, but being the recipient of that trusting stare hit me hard in the chest.
I was already protective of Natalie, and that instinct was only deepening for this young child. The ramifications of getting in too far didn’t bother me, though.
“Good morning, Mister,” she said in a quiet voice.
“You can call me Sergei,” I told her as I gave them my back and began to start breakfast for them, needing something to do so I wouldn’t watch them and wonder what we were starting here.
Friendship was fine. Yet each time I warred with this need to hold Natalie close and kiss away the lingering hint of fear and confusion in her eyes, I knew something much more than mere friendship would be ideal.