Chapter 26
Chapter Twenty-Six
Xeniya Morozova
Fifteen Years Ago
Iwas officially a third-year now, twenty years old… and a virgin.
And that was a problem.
had successfully avoided mentioning the “will you please touch me” moment to Severin.
I was still horribly embarrassed about it, so we pretended as if it had never happened, and life at college remained as normal as it possibly could when you and almost all your friends were members of the Russian mafia.
But back to the virgin thing.
All of my friends, including Nika, were no longer virgins—although my sister absolutely refused to tell me who she had fucked. I really wanted to hack into all our security feeds to find out, but I would respect her privacy.
At least for now.
I had a feeling I knew exactly who it was, which was exactly why Nika would never tell me.
But alas, now I was the only virgin in our group. Partially because of the event, but mostly because I had a very present, very frustrating stalker who never left me alone.
I’d had enough.
If Severin could date and fuck any girl he wanted, I could go on one date with a guy, and hopefully, hopefully, it might lead to more.
The most perfect part of my plan was that Severin was tied up in Bratva business tonight. So there was absolutely no way he would crash my date.
My night was going to go perfectly.
The guy in question was harmless. He was a nerdy but conventionally attractive computer science major who didn’t like parties and enjoyed staying in for a game night rather than going out for a rager.
The perfect guy for me to date.
He was sweet, warm, and able to hold a conversation, because, unfortunately, I was still far too quiet for most people’s liking. He had asked me out after one of our classes, and I had said yes. So now we were having a drink and chatting over a plate of nachos.
I still drank, but now I made sure I knew where my drinks came from, and I never exceeded two drinks at a party or gathering.
We were at the Pub on campus, and Spencer had ordered us beers. I’d watched the bartender pour mine and give it to me directly.
I was far, far more vigilant.
But still, every muscle in my body was at attention, waiting… for something. I wasn’t sure how to date or tell my body to calm down.
Spencer was tall, handsome, smart, and an engineer. He had a dashing smile and was gregarious—a real rarity in my field of study. Sure, not all engineers were quiet and awkward. Many were perfectly adequate communicators, but someone charming who had ease about him? Impossible to find.
So, in summary, Spencer was the kind of man you brought home to your mother.
The restaurant had a rustic Irish pub feel, with most of the walls covered in dark wood paneling. It was quaint. I liked it.
“So, you have two siblings?” Spencer asked, picking up a cheese-covered chip and plopping it into his mouth.
“Yes, a twin brother and a sister who is a year younger.”
He froze for a beat. “Oh, wow. That’s very close in age.”
“Yeah, honestly, sometimes it’s like we’re triplets, but Nika has a much louder personality than Ilya or me,” I said, taking a chip. “We’re fairly quiet.”
“I’ve noticed.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t really speak unless I have something interesting to say.”
“Then I will consider it an honor that you speak to me quite frequently.” He smiled.
I returned the smile and added a playful giggle. “It is an honor.”
I wiggled my nose, and as I reached for another chip, our fingertips touched. I let myself linger for a moment.
I didn’t flinch. It was a win. And I didn’t hate the contact. I was settling in, becoming more comfortable. Was he the person I wanted to touch? No.
But that person wasn’t an option, and I was moving on from him.
Moving on…
Moving the fuck on.
Right. I smiled wider and focused back on Spencer.
“So you grew up in New York?” he asked, raising his beer to his lips.
“Yep, New York, born and raised.” I tapped my newly painted blood-red nails against the table. I’d matched them to the blood-red dress I was wearing.
It was a casual dress, but still fancy enough to look like I had tried.
“What do your parents do?” He leaned in a little bit closer, and I mirrored him.
“My dad works in intelligence, and my mother doesn’t.”
“Intelligence like the CIA?”
“I’m pretty sure if he did, I couldn’t tell you,” I teased. “He works for a private company.”
“Now, that is what someone who worked for the CIA would say…” Spencer raised an eyebrow playfully.
“Possibly.” I winked.
It was probably better for him to think my dad was some secret spy than the highest-ranking intelligence member of the Bratva.
“So your dad is a spy, and you’re a cybersecurity major. Does that mean you’re going to be following in his footsteps?”
I traced a finger around the rim of my glass. “Are you asking if I’m going to be a spy?” I let out a soft laugh.
No, Spencer, much, much worse than that.
He opened his mouth to respond, but his words died off, and his face paled, his eyes locking on something behind me.
I whipped my head around to see what had caught Spencer’s attention. Directly behind me, with his eyes locked on my date, was Severin.
He was dressed in all black. A black T-shirt, a black leather jacket, and dark blue jeans. His motorcycle helmet sat on the table beside him. He was slowly removing his black gloves in the most intimidating way possible. When my gaze met his, he smirked.
Fuck.
Spencer frowned. “Who is that?”
“No one. Just ignore him,” I said, turning back to face Spencer, every muscle in my body rigid.
How dare he crash my date? But also, how the hell did he know? And how the hell was he here?
“He won’t stop glaring.” Spencer shifted in his seat.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
“And now he’s getting up.”
I pinched my eyes closed because I knew exactly what he was doing. When I opened them back up, Severin was hovering over our table.
“Hello, Zaya.”
“Who are you?” Spencer tried to say menacingly, but it was like an ant trying to stand up to a bear.
“I’m her friend,” Severin said with all the confidence and swagger in the world.
“More like a stalker,” I said under my breath, but unfortunately, Spencer heard it, and he stood up and got in Severin’s space.
“Oh, no. Don’t do that.” My face scrunched because I knew what was going to happen.
Spencer stood up tall. “Leave her alone.” He pushed at Severin’s chest, which was a brick wall. He would have a better chance of tipping over the Eiffel Tower than making Severin budge.
The entire restaurant went silent, and everyone’s eyes were on the guys. Some people even got out of their seats to have a better view.
“Get your hands off of me,” Severin seethed.
I tried to step between them and put my hands on their chests. “Spencer, it’s okay, really. Severin was just going to leave, weren’t you?” I glared at Severin and pushed on his chest.
“Leave, or I’ll make you leave.” Spencer pushed at Severin again—a massive mistake. Severin only gave one warning.
And there it was. With one strong punch, Spencer was on the floor clutching his broken nose.
“That’s enough.” I stepped between them, blocking Severin from throwing another punch or a kick, considering Spencer was on the floor. “Get out.” I pointed at the door. “Just get out, please.”
“I’m giving you ten minutes to take care of your pathetic date,” he said, gritting his teeth. “If you don’t come out to talk to me in ten minutes, I’ll make him wake up in the hospital.”
“Fine,” I spat. “Just leave.”
“Ten minutes.” He turned, clutched his motorcycle helmet, and stormed out of the pub.
I knelt next to Spencer. “Are you okay?”
“No.”
“I’m so sorry about him. He’s—” Crazy? Unhinged? Protective? Ugh, I didn’t know how to finish the sentence.
Blood poured from Spencer’s very broken nose.
Fuck. I shook my head and tried to find something to stanch the wound.
After trying to take care of Spencer and apologizing profusely, I played by Severin’s rules and walked out of the pub exactly at the ten-minute mark. But if he thought I was going to talk to him, he had another thing coming, because I absolutely was not going to say a single fucking word.
No, I was going to ignore him, walk right past him, and refuse to acknowledge his existence.
Because fuck him.