Chapter 31 #2
But this man, his brother, was formed from charm. He always had been. If Prince Charming existed in real life, it would be this man. Everything about him was easy, clean, and comfortable. His presence exuded a strange sense of ease and immediately put me off guard.
I’d watched him schmooze the room, but not just the important Russian bosses. No, he also knew every staff member by name and remembered important parts of their lives.
This man cared deeply about his employees and the Bratva.
“You look like you’re contemplating murder,” he said, handing me a refilled glass of exactly what I’d ordered.
I took the whiskey and looked up at him. “I am.”
“I hope not my murder.”
I smiled—a genuine smile for the first time all night. “But we’ve only just met. Maybe I’ll want to murder you on our second meeting.”
“Now, that’s not true. I saw you at the first gathering of Russians and Irish when you got engaged to my brother, which, by the way, was very disappointing.”
I raised a manicured eyebrow. “Oh, and you’d want to marry me?”
“Who wouldn’t want to marry you?” His eyes traced the edges of my face and down the column of my neck. He sighed. “But you agreed to marry my brother. If you change your mind, you must let me know.”
I giggled, actually giggled like a schoolgirl. Get yourself together, Xeniya. “If I don’t marry him, I will certainly let you know.”
“Who are you planning to murder?”
“Is everyone not the right answer?”
Mikhail chuckled. “Oh, I knew I was going to like you.” He held out his hand. “Would you like to dance, and make my brother jealous and maybe cause him to stop ignoring his beautiful fiancée?”
I giggled again.
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Xeniya.
“Yes,” I said, and I let him lead me onto the dance floor.
Vesper Graves was on stage singing a beautiful yet seductive ballad. Many were dancing to it, and others were watching her performance. Among the watchers was Severin’s head guard, Maksim Petrov, who seemed utterly enamored with the singer.
Clearly not doing his job tonight.
Mikhail pulled me into a close hold for our dance. It was somewhere between a slow foxtrot and a waltz. As a mafia princess, I had been drilled in ballroom dances for such occasions, and I was moderately okay at them.
No great.
Not bad.
A bead of sweat rolled down my back, and my heart pounded into my throat as my body pressed against his. He smelled of cedar, amber, and a hint of smoke.
It was thrilling, and I sucked in a deep breath and held it to keep myself from falling over a cliff I couldn’t climb back up.
Before my kidnapping, I had only had an attraction for two men. Severin and Mikhail. And afterward, I didn’t know if I could be attracted to anyone again.
It turns out I could, and to the same fucking men, because my life was one big joke.
What would my life be like now if I had chosen the other brother back then? Would Mikhail choose me back? Would he have protected me?
Would none of this have ever happened?
They were foolish, useless questions to ask because it happened, and my life was forever altered.
And to make all of it worse, Mikhail was the consummate gentleman throughout the whole dance, never placing a hand where it shouldn’t be and never making me remotely uncomfortable.
I’d never danced with Severin. Not once. It wasn’t safe because of his father, but I had danced with Mikhail on multiple occasions. And somehow, I’d always wished it were Severin, even when I hated him.
As if summoned by my thoughts, I glimpsed Severin out of the corner of my eye. To say he was not happy would have been an understatement. He radiated anger. It poured off him like seismic waves from an earthquake.
When the dance was over, I excused myself to the bathroom because I needed to catch my breath and gather my thoughts.
I was not here to flirt with Mikhail or develop feelings for anyone. I was here to destroy the Lethean Order and any of its members. The Russians held up the order, and so I would break them apart one by one if I had to.
It was time to let them know the ghost was always watching. Always there.
It was time to show them.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror and rubbed my face, smudging my makeup and fake freckles.
I removed my glasses and placed them into my purse. I’d wipe off my smeared makeup, but I didn’t need to. It would come off with the transition to Ghost Xeniya.
I took off my red wig and stuffed it inside the trash can for safekeeping. Hopefully, Severin kept his establishments clean because I was going to need to come back for that later.
My white hair fell down my shoulders and over my back like clouds. My eyes were still brown, covered in contacts, so I quickly scooped them out and placed them into their case. I couldn’t have them on for what I was about to do.
I steadied myself and stared at my so-very-changed reflection.
White hair, grayish blue-purple eyes, and murder etched into my expression.
They had taken everything from me. My innocence, my body, my mind, my life. And now I would take everything from them.
My fingers started to tingle, and this time I let them change. I became the ghost. The vigilante hunting the evil men of the world… and some women.
I strolled out of the bathroom, to the side of the ballroom, and toward the ornate wall. I took out my lipstick and wrote a twenty-word message.
I stepped back from it and flashed a wicked smile.
It was perfection.
Then I turned on my heel and sauntered back to the bathroom like a feline, without a care in the world.
No one saw me, but why would they? People can’t see spirits unless spirits want to be seen.
I secured my wig back to my head and plopped my brown contacts back in. My fake freckles had disappeared, so I quickly reapplied them with my freckle makeup pen. Then I swung open the bathroom door and walked out to screams.
The Russians had found my message.
Dark secrets don’t stay hidden for long. I am coming for you, Severin. I am coming for all of you.