Chapter 6 Anton
ANTON
Vladimir Petrov’s daughter has… grown.
The minute I noticed her, I had to do a double-take.
The last time I saw her, she was a young girl with big, innocent blue eyes and a baby’s face.
Maksim and I attended her sweet sixteen party by invitation from her father, Vladimir.
That day, we were there for business. Some meeting about some deal that I no longer remember.
We walked into the kitchen as we were leaving and she came rushing in from the pool.
She was wearing a blue bathing suit and her long red hair in a high ponytail.
“My daughter, gentlemen,” was all Petrov said.
She waved politely, then rushed back out and to the pool. The next thing we heard was a rising giggle from her and her friends just outside the door. I had only one thought that I ended up sharing with Mikki later, and that was that it was a good thing she didn’t get her father’s toad-like looks.
And that was it. I might’ve seen her a few more times over the years, but she was always in my peripheral. Never really registering.
But now… Now that I see her straight on, she is easily the most beautiful woman in the room.
Her long red hair is curled at the ends, and her bright blue eyes were accented with eyeliner and shadow, but they’d transformed into dreamy, heavy-lidded eyes.
She smiles at something her friend says, her heart-shaped lips turning up gently at the corners.
Her friend gets up from the table and walks away, toward the bathrooms. Now is my chance.
“Don’t.”
I look over at Mikki, who’s looking back at me with a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
He leans forward. “That is Vladimir Petrov’s daughter.”
“Is it?” I say, feigning surprise. “Well, it would be impolite of me not to go over and say hello. Excuse me for a second.”
I get up before he can object any further. She’s dropped a fork, so she doesn’t see me coming just yet. A second later, she sits back up and her line of sight connects with my eyes. She freezes like a caught deer.
“Hi,” I say. “Natalya Petrov… right?”
“Yes,” she says and smiles up at me. “And you’re Anton Romanov. Nice to see you.”
“Likewise,” I say. “I saw you and thought it would be impolite not to come over and say hello. The last time I saw you, you were… well, younger.”
Her cheeks pinken as she looks away coyly. “Yeah,” she says. “It was probably right before I went to college.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Right. I think that was… four years ago?”
“Yes. I just graduated. Bachelor’s degree in liberal arts now.”
“Nice. So, what are your plans now that school’s done?”
“Um…” The pink in her cheeks deepens. “I haven’t decided yet. Still living in my father’s pool house. Trying to figure out what’s next.”
“I see. May I sit?”
“Please.”
I sit down in her friend’s seat. She’s not meeting my eyes and squirming a little in her seat, her face fully blushing. “You seem a little nervous, Natalya.”
I speak her name and she gives me this look, like a bell just rang behind her eyes. “I don’t think we’ve ever had a conversation,” she says. “Every time I’ve seen you, it’s been in passing. Like, some event at the house or something. Talking to you now is a little… well, it’s throwing me off.”
“Same,” I say, and she smiles. “You have a beautiful smile. In fact, everything about you is gorgeous.”
“Th–Thank you,” she says meekly. “You didn’t come all the way over here to compliment me, did you?”
“I did, actually. I saw a woman sitting at a table and I had the thought, ‘There is the most beautiful woman in this room. Hands down. If I don’t walk over there and say something to her, I’ll kick myself later.’”
She stares at me, her smile flickering. “Are you hitting on me, Mr. Romanov?”
“Absolutely.”
The flickering increases and forms into a broad smile. She looks away in an effort to hide it from me. “You’re very forward.”
“I have to be.” Then in Russian, “Men of the brotherhood don’t have time to waste on small talk.”
She regards me for a few seconds and returns in Russian, “Men of the brotherhood are trouble.”
I laugh. “You think so? Is that what your father always told you? Stay away from Bratva men?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“Hmm.” Then in English, I say, “Maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m the guy your father tried to warn you about.”
I want to say more, ask her to accompany me back to my place. I don’t know if she’d take me up on it, but how nice it would be if she did.
But… Mikki is right. Flirting is the safest thing I can do with Natalya and I might end up needing her father’s Bratva in the coming war. Best not to burn that bridge by fucking his daughter.
“I’d better get back to my table.” I go to stand.
“Would you like to get some coffee sometime?” she asks me. “Or… maybe dinner?”
Bold. I wonder how much of her courage she had to summon to ask me out. “Maybe,” I say. I reach into my pocket and pull out one of my cards. “Call me sometime.”
She takes it and with a smile, she says, “Thanks. I will.”
And with that, I walk back to my own table. Mikki’s shaking his head.
“When I said that you should consider dating again,” he says, “I most certainly didn’t mean a Bratva princess. And definitely not that Bratva princess.”
“I was just saying hello to an old acquaintance,” I say as I sit down and take a drink. “I didn’t break protocol.”
Mikki snorts. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Anton? I could see the wheels turning the moment you noticed her. Now, I’ll admit, she’s beautiful, but she is poison, my friend. Leave her alone.”
“Poison’s a little harsh,” I say.
“Trust me. It’s not. You remember the stories about Petrov when it came to his daughter. He doesn’t let anybody near her with a ten-foot pole.”
I finish my drink and wave the waiter down for another. “It can’t be all that oppressive. He let her out to go to dinner tonight.” He glares at me and I smirk back.
“This isn’t funny,” he says. “Natalya Petrov is poisoned fruit and you know it.”
“She’s a beautiful young woman,” I respond. “And beautiful women deserve to be complimented every now and then.”
Mikki looks at me, tapping his fingers on the bottom of his glass. “Swear you’ll leave her alone.”
“You know I can’t make any promises like that.”
“Anton, this is serious. What happens if we happen to need Petrov’s help against Amur? Twice they’ve gotten the jump on us. They could be formidable in a war.”
I raise my hands in surrender. “I’ll stay away from Natalya Petrov. I promise. I will not go near her again. Satisfied?”
“I am.”
“Good. Let’s talk about something else then. Like what we’re going to do about this situation with the Amur.”
Mikki starts to speak, but the waiter comes by with my drink.
After he’s gone, he says, “We could arrange a sit down with Nikolai. Maybe talk him out of this course of action before we retaliate and wipe him out entirely. He’s not the biggest or baddest Bratva around.
He’s got to know that it’s strategically foolish to come at us this way. ”
I shake my head. “It’s too late for that. And besides, I can’t think of a single thing that he could offer that would make up for murdering Maksim.”
“All right. Then what do you want to do?”
I think about it for a few moments. “We need to let him know that we know about his crimes. The way these things were done… poison and sneaking around in the dark. It’s underhanded and disrespectful. We need to treat this with brutal force.”
“Nothing wrong with being covert. Brutal force could draw the wrong attention. I think a few surgical strikes might work best in this case. I can talk to some of our more silent soldiers.”
I nod. “That might work.” Before we can go more into it, our waiter returns to take our order. In the reprieve, I find myself looking past him and to Natalya’s table.
Her friend has returned and she’s having a lively conversation with her. Her eyes dance in the warm amber lighting of the restaurant and her smile broadens. I find myself wondering what it might be like to greet that smile at the end of a day…
Mikki is right. I should leave her alone. I should definitely stay away from her.
I don’t know if I can keep that promise.