Chapter 3
ARTYOM
Iswipe a bottle of sparkling water from the bar and join Valentin in the plush velvet booth. He’s fake-laughing at something the waitress said, but my mind is so far away I barely acknowledge them as I crack the bottle open and take a swig.
Fear.
When she saw me, my Nenoka froze. Like I was the big bad wolf about to bring her house crumbling down around her.
Her face went pale, her freckles stark on her cheeks. The need to reach out and touch her, to trace my fingertips over that constellation on her left cheek, to reassure her that it would be okay, was so strong that I bundled my hands into fists.
Whatever I was expecting, it wasn’t that.
Her rage? Her fire? Her passion?
I can handle it all.
But I wasn’t prepared for her fear.
Still, I no longer have time to waste. This isn’t just pleasure now; this is business. There’s no more time to give her space to find her way back to me.
I need Nina back.
“Valentin,” I look over to where my cousin is eyeing up the cocktail waitress. She’s leaning forward over our table, ignoring me, giving him a deep view of her cleavage.
He can’t tear his gaze away. I roll my eyes and raise my voice. “Valentin.”
He smirks at me, smacking the waitress’s ass. “Yes, cousin?”
I shake my head at the cocktail waitress and shove a wad of cash at her to get her to move away from my cousin’s lap. She takes it in a heartbeat.
“Hey,” he protests. He lowers his voice. “She’s a ten, Tyoma. You can’t cockblock me from a woman with an ass like that.”
I cast a glance at the waitress as she sashays back to the bar. Her skirt is short, but she doesn’t look like anything remarkable to me.
“Maybe I can’t. But $10,000 can, apparently.”
Valentin rolls his eyes and groans, slamming back another glass of vodka on ice. He offers the bottle to me, but I shake my head.
“You’re no fun these days. It’s like you’re already married.”
He’s just three years younger than me, but sometimes it feels like I’m his father. I can’t imagine going back to the days of enjoying cocktail waitresses hitting on me. My physical appearance and the reaction it provokes from women has become something of an annoyance since Nina left.
If I didn’t think there was still a chance she liked my face, I would end up in more fistfights.
“I need your advice.”
Even as I say it, I question why I’m coming to Valentin with this.
I suppose he’s all I’ve got.
Valentin heaves a sigh, but his eyes light up with interest. “Shoot.”
“How do I win back a girl who hates me?”
He laughs at me. “That’s a good one, Tyoma.”
“I’m not joking,” I growl.
“You? What?” he splutters, necking back another glass of vodka. Drunkenly, he leans over the table and explains to me.
“You will not be the one doing the chasing, cousin. Every mother in the Bratva is lining up her daughter for you right now. All you have to do is pick the prettiest one, or the one with the nicest tits, or the one who makes the most political sense.” He shrugs when he sees my darkening face.
“Whatever you’re into. Which no one knows, because you’ve barely dated anyone lately. ”
Nina Porter is what I’m into.
“That’s because I’ve been busy with actual work, cousin.”
“Hell, you could make special requests, and they would find someone to shove at you.”
“I’m not marrying any of them.”
“C’mon, cousin, you have to marry someone. We don’t want Polina and Denis in charge,” he says with a shudder.
Most Russians would defend their mother’s honor. In this case, I simply nod my head in solemn agreement.
“They will never lead the Petrovs.”
“Exactly. So don’t throw it all away because you’re stubborn.”
“I’m not throwing it away. I just have my own plan.”
“You’re not going to try to change Babushka’s mind, are you? That’s a fool’s errand, and we both know it. That lady never changes her mind about anything.”
“Except me, apparently.”
Valentin winces and grits his teeth. I’m unfamiliar with being pitied by people, but I assume this is what it’s like.
“You’ll find someone you like, Tyoma. You haven’t even met some of them yet. Karolina is returning from Russia for the occasion.”
He still doesn’t get what I’m saying.
“I’m not marrying any of them, Valentin, because I’m marrying someone else.”
He looks really confused, now. “Who else is there?”
I scoff, shaking my head. Sometimes our lives can be insular, but it’s ridiculous the way our family thinks there is only the Bratva.
“Remember Nina?”
His head snaps up. He seems more sober. As though her name was enough to evaporate the liquor from his system.
“Fuck, cousin.” Valentin looks at me with genuine distress. He thought my obsession was unhealthy, when she left. So did Vanya. So did everyone. “Not her. Not again. You moved past this.”
No, I didn’t.
Never could.
Never wanted to.
I nod my head. “Her.”