3. Mikhail
Mikhail
Something hard connects with my shoulder from behind, and I lurch forward, pain flaring hot through the muscle in an immediate brutal hit that’s definitely going to leave a bruise.
I whip around in my seat, already pissed, and find Alexei sitting in the back with that emotionless stare of his, not even pretending to look sorry.
“What was that for?” I snap.
“Bored,” he says flatly.
Why did I bother asking? I don’t know why I thought he’d have a better explanation than that.
“Did you really have to punch me that hard, asshole?”
“That wasn’t hard. Kelly’s teaching me to be nicer and practice restraint. If I wasn’t trying, I would’ve broken something.”
This is Alexei being nice. I’m thrilled for Kelly, truly, but maybe his influence could extend to not assaulting people in moving vehicles. My shoulder is already throbbing, and I curse him out under my breath.
Daniil’s driving with no headlights, rolling up to Yulian’s place nice and slow. The house sits dark, all black glass and modern design. It’s on the family property with our parents’ house and where my brothers built their places too. We bailed and got our own spot in the city.
We get out, and Daniil’s already on his phone, killing the security system with a few taps that make every camera go dark.
“Are we sure he isn’t home?” Alexei asks.
“No, we’re complete idiots who didn’t bother checking,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Of course Danya checked. Shocking that we’d use our brains first, right?”
His eye twitches, and he mutters something in Russian, then flexes his fingers. “I can’t believe I let you drag me into this. We get this over with, and then we never talk about what you saw. Ever.”
My grin is massive. “But—”
He shoves my shoulder hard. “Shut the fuck up, suka.”
Daniil’s trying not to laugh as we type in the code and push inside. I haven’t been to Yulian’s place in months, and it looks exactly how I remember it—pristine dark wooden floors, gray walls, everything so clean and sterile.
We split up without needing to discuss it.
I start in the living room, tearing through drawers and shoving aside cushions before moving to the bathroom to check cabinets and behind the mirror.
Nothing. Daniil’s upstairs going through the office, and Alexei’s off doing god knows what.
He better help us find this document because if we walk out of here empty-handed, I’m killing him just for the stress relief.
Heading to the bedroom last, I push the door open and move fast. I open his drawers, rifle through papers on his desk, check under the bed. The document has to be here somewhere. Pulling open his closet, I start going through jacket pockets, tossing clothes aside when they come up empty.
I freeze mid-step when I spot a hoodie lying on his bed. My head tilts, and I stare at it. That’s not Yulian’s style at all—wrong fabric, wrong fit, wrong everything. He doesn’t do casual like this.
There’s a ripped piece of paper next to it, and I pick it up, squinting at the handwriting.
Same place as last time. The strip, noon. Don’t make me wait—M.
My eyes narrow. Vegas has been Yulian’s obsession from the second he pitched working there, all his idea to expand, and I’ve never seen him push this hard for anything in his entire life.
Now he’s there all the time, vanishing for weeks on end.
I have no idea why Vegas specifically became his whole world, but honestly, I don’t care enough to ask.
I put the note down and reach for the hoodie.
“Don’t touch that,” Alexei says from behind me.
“Why?”
“Because I’m telling you not to. He’s protective of that thing, has been since we were teenagers. I had to throw him through a window once because he almost killed me for touching it. Don’t know where it came from, don’t care. Just leave it alone.”
“That’s weird.”
“Our entire family is weird. Move on.”
Shrugging, I keep searching. I pull open another drawer and shove aside clothes and random papers, then pause when I spot a stash of cherry lollipops filling the entire bottom of his nightstand. I stare at them for a second. Why is he so weird?
Daniil appears in the doorway grinning at me, holding the document up like a trophy. Relief floods through me so fast my knees almost give out, and I let out a long exhale as the tension finally drains from my shoulders. If we hadn’t found it, I would have been completely screwed.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I say, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the door.
We head out, lock the door behind us, and climb into the car.
I turn around in my seat with a huge grin. “Can we pet the rabbits?”
Alexei’s fist comes flying at me from the back seat, and I barely catch it in time, twisting his arm back. This is the one thing guaranteed to set him off, and I love it.
Kelly had a rabbit, just one normal pet rabbit, until Alexei decided to surprise him with a second one without bothering to check if they were both the same sex.
Spoiler, they weren’t the same sex. Now they’ve got more than ten rabbits running around, and the number keeps climbing.
Alexei’s insanely protective over all of them and goes ballistic if anyone even thinks about touching one.
He even got a tiny rabbit tattooed inside his palm like a psycho.
When we offered to adopt two of them and take some off his hands, he refused immediately.
He wrenches his hand back. “Drop it or I’m putting you in the hospital.”
Daniil gives me the look from the driver’s seat, the one that means quit while you’re ahead, so obviously I double down.
“I’m just going to ask Kelly myself. He’ll say yes because he actually likes me.”
Alexei lunges forward from the back seat, reaching for my throat between the headrests.
I grab his wrists, and we’re locked there, both of us fighting for control, neither willing to back down first. Daniil sighs heavily without taking his eyes off the road.
Alexei’s face is turning red from the effort when suddenly he freezes, hearing something.
He shoves me away hard and settles back in his seat.
Looking up, I realize we’re already back at their place.
The front door opens, and Kelly steps out, blonde hair catching in the wind. He crosses his arms and shakes his head, judging all three of us silently without saying a single word.
I still can’t believe Father refuses to speak to Alexei because he’s with a man. Who gives a shit? Alexei’s happy. Actually happy for once in his miserable life. That should be enough for anyone, but Father’s stuck in his archaic bullshit.
“If you mention my name to Yulian, I’m forgetting every lesson Kelly’s taught me about restraint. Keep your mouth shut,” Alexei says flatly.
He gets out of the car, pulls Kelly in for a kiss, and then the two of them head inside together.
Kelly’s part of the family now, whether Father likes it or not.
He’s over all the time, plays cards and trash-talks Yulian.
We all love him. Even Lev warmed up to him eventually, which says something considering how much of a tight-ass he is.
Our mother adores him. She visits them constantly, brings food, fusses over both of them.
She invited him for Christmas, but only because Father was in Russia doing business and couldn’t stop her.
He never found out, and she’s made damn sure to keep it that way.
She’s gotten good at sneaking him into family things whenever he’s gone.
She’s also started her grandchildren campaign, constantly hinting about adoption and saying how worried she is that none of us are going to give her any. She’s right about that, at least in my case. I can’t speak for the rest of the idiots.
Shaking my head, I turn to Daniil. “Can we stop by the club? I need to put the document back into the safe.”
He nods.
Ozero’s almost a year old now, and it’s the one thing I’ve done that I’m actually proud of.
I handle all three clubs because Father doesn’t trust anyone else to run them properly, but Ozero is different. It’s mine in a way the others aren’t.
I built it from nothing, watched it become the most successful club we own, proof that I can do something right even when Father acts like I’m his worst disappointment. The numbers don’t lie, and for once they’re working in my favor.
It’s one of our biggest laundering hubs, and that’s what keeps smaller operations dependent on us.
They need somewhere to wash their cash, and we control the access.
The whole building is ours. I spend most of my time there, and Daniil always comes with me, sitting in my office while I handle the cash flow and sorting.
Clubs aren’t his thing at all, the noise and crowds make him tense, but he shows up anyway and stays.
For me. That means more than he realizes.
The document that asshole stole was the blueprint for the entire unopened section, the expansion Father’s been pushing me to finish ahead of schedule for the event I’m planning that’s supposed to wash cash for us.
We need it back in the safe before anyone notices it’s gone. I can’t afford to look sloppy, especially not when Father’s already watching and waiting for me to fuck up.
We pull into the underground garage, and I jump out before we’ve completely stopped. Daniil climbs out after me, and I reach for him immediately, pulling him into my side. My arm settles over his shoulders, keeping him tucked close as we walk. He leans into me without hesitation, matching my pace.
The elevator takes us up and the doors open to “Type Shit” by Future, bass vibrating through the floor. Strobing lights flash across the crowd, and the club is packed as hell tonight.
My arm drops from his shoulders when we reach the bouncer standing at the VIP stairs.
The private area up here is darker and quieter than downstairs, LED strips casting soft light along the walls while chandeliers hang low over expensive couches and private booths. The unfinished section sits to the right, door closed and locked.
“Mikhail,” a loud, whiny voice shouts.