Chapter 2 #3
Not my concern, I remind myself, but the worry doesn’t go away.
It stays with me as I make a cup of coffee and pull on a pair of jeans.
I wait to eat because I know Maddie will have something for me.
She’s used to me raiding their fridge whenever I come to watch Misha.
Pulling on a T-shirt, I step on the elevator and head down to the lobby.
I’ve almost made it out of the building when I spot the blonde woman waiting for me.
I let out as quiet of a groan as I can and give a pointed look to the security guard on duty. He gives me an apologetic look, but there’s nothing to stop this unfortunate meeting. It’s already in motion.
“Valeri!” she squeals, running at me and throwing her arms around my waist.
I give her an awkward shoulder pat and then try to pry her off me. Lisa was an unfortunate decision I made several weeks ago, and the poor girl is not taking the hint, even though I’ve made it painfully obvious that the night we shared is never going to be repeated.
“I need to go,” I tell her, pulling her off me and taking a step back.
“You’re ignoring my calls,” she pouts, and I curse my past self for not picking up on the fact that she’s clingy and way too needy for a one-night stand.
Volodya’s constantly warning me about situations like this, and he’d laugh his ass off if he knew he was right.
Before he met Maddie, he wouldn’t even bring a woman back to his house. He was militant about it.
“I am,” I tell her, because being nice just isn’t cutting it. “I never meant to lead you on. I made it very clear that I wasn’t looking for anything beyond the night. I’m sorry if you didn’t believe me, but you need to stop calling me and coming to my apartment.”
Her blue eyes narrow before the overly cheerful facade falls back into place. Laughing, she waves a hand at me like we’re just playing around. “I get it, you’re busy. I’ll just come back another time.”
The tight dress she’s wearing barely covers anything, and when she presses her arms together, making her large tits stick out even more, I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.
“I am busy, but you’re not coming back another time. You and I are not a thing, and we never will be. I’m sorry, but you need to leave and not come back.”
I feel bad for being so blunt about it, but I’ve tried nice, and it doesn’t work.
It just makes it worse. Her face falters for a second before the mask is back in place.
She gives me a big smile and walks away, making me wonder if she even heard a damn word I just said.
Once the doors shut, I look at Bill and shake my head at him with a groan.
“Do not let her back in here. I don’t care what in the hell she promises you. Don’t let her in.”
“Sorry, Mr. Medvedev. She snuck in while I was helping Mrs. Loman with her wheelchair."
“You have to watch her,” I warn him. “She’s sneaky.”
“And a little unhinged,” he adds.
“Definitely,” I agree, giving him a wave goodbye before heading to my car.
Even though it’s not on my way, I drive further downtown so I can go past the library.
Aside from some dim lighting on the second floor, the large building is mostly in darkness.
I can’t help but wonder if she’s already in there and how she ended up with that job in the first place.
Most young women work in clubs or waitress at restaurants. Not too many go the janitorial route.
I’m still thinking about it when I wave to the guard on duty outside of Volodya’s house.
Igor opens the gate and waves me through, and before I’ve even parked my car, their three large cane corsi come running up to me.
The dogs are so big that all I have to do is look out my window and we’re face to face.
I laugh at the goofy look on Pulya’s face and open the door, giving her a good scratch behind the ears before giving her brothers some love.
They follow me to the door, wagging their tails and whining happily while I knock and wait.
Usually, I’d just barge in, but Volodya’s made it very clear that since he got married I’m no longer allowed to do that.
He’s answered the door barely dressed with a beet-red Maddie hidden behind him on more than one occasion, so now I always knock and wait.
Thankfully, my brother is fully dressed when he opens the door this time.
“Wow, going all out for tonight, huh?” I ask him, eyeing the nice suit he’s wearing.
“It’s our anniversary,” he says with a shrug.
“No, it’s not.”
“The anniversary of when I kidnapped her.”
I follow him into the kitchen, shaking my head at what a complete psycho my brother is.
For the longest time, I did worry about his mental health.
Everyone in the Bratva commits murder, it’s just a given, but no one seems to enjoy it quite like Volodya, and no one else has such a love of knives.
Most of us just prefer to take a quick shot and be done with it, but not him.
If there’s any way for him to use a knife, he’s going to.
He also has a higher kill count than me, which is a constant source of irritation.
One day I’ll beat him, but it won’t be because I actually enjoy the killing part.
It’ll just be because I really want to see the look on his face when I do it.
Maddie’s changed him, though. A side of him I never even knew existed came out after he accidentally kidnapped the wrong girl and took Maddie instead. I knew she was the one for him when she was still breathing the next morning.
“Hey, Valeri.”
I turn to see Maddie walking into the kitchen with my smiling nephew in her arms. He squeals when he sees me and tries to lunge my way. Laughing, I take him from her and pull her in for a quick hug.
“Hey, little sis. Ready for your big romantic kidnapping anniversary?”
She laughs, but her whole face lights up, because whatever kind of crazy my brother is, she’s definitely down for it.
“Of course she is,” Volodya says, scooping her up with a hand under her ass to make sure her dress doesn’t ride up. She laughs and wraps her arms around him, looking at him with so much love that I have to look away before I start to get envious.
Turning my attention to Misha, I give his chubby cheek a kiss and start talking to him in Russian. His big, whiskey-colored eyes, the same as his daddy’s, stay glued to mine, and I swear he understands every word I’m saying.
When Volodya eventually puts Maddie down, she tells me she already put a casserole in the oven for me and then tells me not to let Misha stay up too late like last time because it really screwed his sleep schedule up.
“He wanted to see who won the hockey game,” I remind her, because we’ve been over this before. “It was a shootout, Maddie. It would’ve been cruel to not let him finish watching it.”
“He’s barely one,” she says, giving her son a smile.
“The memory of his coolest uncle letting him stay up late to finish a hockey game is in there somewhere.”
“The coolest uncle?” Volodya asks. “Vasily will be so happy to hear that.”
“The truth can sometimes be painful.” I hand Misha to my brother and take the casserole out when the timer goes off, giving Maddie an appreciative smile. “Thank you. I haven’t eaten all day.”
“I wish you’d meet someone,” she tells me yet again.
“He meets lots of women,” Volodya cuts in.
She smiles and squeezes my arm. “Someone nice who’s not just enamored with you because you’re a Medvedev.”
Volodya leans against the counter. “He’s yet to meet one of them.”
Before Maddie came into his life, my brother rarely smiled, but he’s giving me a smug grin now that only grows when I tell him to fuck off in Russian.
He just laughs and gives his son a kiss before putting him in his walker.
The dogs immediately gather around, letting him clumsily pet them while they form a protective barrier around the walker.
I fix a huge plate of food while Maddie goes over the list of what needs to be done and what he’s allowed to eat while I try not to laugh at the little mother hen she’s become.
She points a finger at me. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
I hold up my hands. “I wouldn’t dream of it. You can stop worrying, though. I’ve got this, and I’ll call if I have questions or he sneezes or whatever.”
Volodya laughs while Maddie glares at us, but I can tell she’s fighting a smile. They both bend down and tell Misha goodbye and after they’ve finally left, I give my nephew a smile and walk into the living room.
“Come on, Misha. The hockey game’s about to start,” I tell him and then laugh when he gives an excited squeal and follows after me in his walker, chubby feet pounding over the hardwood floor.
I find the game while Misha plays with the toys on his walker, wondering how long it’s acceptable to wait before texting Evie.