Chapter 15
Dubai, two weeks ago…
Katya
I’d never been to Dubai before, and I was trying not to let it show.
It was like some billionaire’s fever dream.
Towers glittered in the sun like they were competing with each other, each building taller and shinier than the last. Even the air smelled expensive.
It was laced with perfume, salt, and the faint tang of cold air conditioning spilling out of every doorway.
The Dragunov brothers walked through it like they owned the place.
Which, to be fair, they kind of did.
And they had decided to take me shopping.
Right now, we weren’t in a normal mall. We weren’t even in the ‘rich people’ section of a normal mall.
They’d taken me to a private, invitation-only gallery of boutiques linked together by a quiet, marble-floored corridor high above the main shopping district.
No crowds. No noise. Just soft music, discreet staff, and the kind of quiet that made my combat-honed instincts uneasy.
“You know,” I began, as we entered a Louis Vuitton showroom so empty it might as well have been a museum, “there’s something deeply suspicious about rich men who drag a woman into a shopping gallery with no witnesses.”
“It’s called being gentlemen,” Mikhail said. “Plus, you need more clothes.”
“I have clothes,” I objected.
“You have one go-bag,” he corrected. “You showed up with a duffel bag and three knives, Katerina. That’s not a wardrobe.”
I smirked. “The knives are versatile. They go with everything.”
“I like her style,” Viktor said, brushing past a display of handbags that cost more than the rent on my old apartment. He picked one up, the tiniest little brown monogrammed cross-body thing, and turned it over like it offended him. “What can you even fit in this?”
“It’s big enough for a phone,” the sales associate murmured diplomatically.
Viktor scoffed. “If I can’t use it to smuggle a gun or a bottle of booze, it’s not worth that price.”
Mikhail sighed. “Focus. We are not here to embarrass ourselves.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I retorted. “I’m enjoying it.”
The sales associate, a woman with perfect eyeliner and a perfectly neutral expression, turned to me. “Miss, can I show you some pieces from our latest collection?”
My first thought was to say no.
Then I caught sight of myself in one of the mirrored panels. Still a little damp from my shower that morning. A little too freshly sore from Mikhail’s hands on my skin. A little too aware of Viktor watching me like he was envisioning me on my back in his bed.
And then there was Andrei, the youngest brother whom I hadn’t really gotten to know yet, but was curious enough to want to find out.
Maybe I did need clothes.
“Show me something I could run in,” I said. “Or stab someone in without the seams ripping.”
Her composure almost cracked. Almost.
“I think we can find something for you,” she said.
While she drifted away to pull options, I caught Andrei’s reflection beside mine. He was leaning against the wall across from me, arms folded, all relaxed charm on the surface. His eyes, though, were curious, although wary.
“You don’t have to babysit me,” I commented.
“I’m not,” he replied. “I’m just observing you.”
“That’s worse.”
He smiled. “You don’t like being watched?”
“Depends on who’s watching and why.”
“Is that so?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Interesting.”
The associate returned with several gowns draped over her arm: a sleek black one, a deep blue satin wrap dress, and a softer champagne one that looked like something a princess would wear to seduce a diplomat into giving up state secrets.
I brushed my fingers over the fabric. “These are all too pretty to ruin with blood.”
Viktor appeared behind me. “That’s the nice thing about money,” he said. “You can just buy another one after you’re done with the stabbing.”
The associate made a small choking sound.
“Viktor,” Mikhail said sharply.
“What?” Viktor protested. “I’m not wrong.”
I held up the black dress. Straight lines. Deep V. Dangerous.
“I’ll try this one,” I said.
The associate led me into a fitting room with too many mirrors and soft lighting designed to make even the worst decisions look like good ones.
I pulled on the dress. It slid over my skin like sin.
The associate slipped back into the room and adjusted the dress, before excusing herself and coming back with a pair of combat boots.
When she finally left once more, I stared at myself.
I still recognized the fighter. The scar on my shoulder. The hardness around my mouth. The war in my eyes.
But there was a softness there now that had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with the way three men with the same last name who treated me like I’d stumbled into the center of their universe, and they hadn’t decided what to do with me yet.
I walked back out.
All three brothers looked up at once.
Mikhail’s eyes moved slowly from my bare shoulders to the plunge of the neckline to the way the dress hugged my hips. His expression didn’t change much, but his jaw tightened.
Viktor whistled under his breath. “Yes. Absolutely yes.”
Andrei’s gaze swept over me once, quick but thorough. Then his mouth quirked.
“Not bad,” he said casually. “For someone who usually dresses like she’s about to rob a bank.”
I raised a brow. “Perhaps you’d prefer me wearing body armor then?”
“With you?” he said. “It’s probably safer.”
“For you or for me?”
He smiled. “That depends.”
The associate hovered politely, tablet in hand. “It looks excellent on you, miss.”
“It really does,” Viktor agreed. “You should get it. And the blue one. And that one with the slit that—”
“Choose what you like, Katerina. Ignore my brothers,” Mikhail cut in smoothly.
I twisted to look in the mirror again, catching all four of us reflected there.
Me, wrapped in black. Mikhail looked like a dark sentinel with his gaze fully focused in on me.
Andrei had his arms crossed over his chest, his expression serious even as his eyes burned bright with mischief.
Viktor lounged on the chaise like he owned the place and winked in my direction.
“I’ll take this one,” I said. “And something I can move in.”
“That means yes to the dress and yes to those boots,” Viktor translated. “You’re welcome.”
“Who asked you?” I asked.
“You did,” he said. “With your eyes, kotenok.”
I rolled mine, which only made him smirk even wider.
We left Louis Vuitton with more bags than I’d ever walked out with in my life. Chanel was next. Then a jewelry place with too much glass and no prices on display. It was surreal, walking between gleaming shelves while all three brothers trailed behind me like well-dressed wolves.
Outside one boutique, as the associate disappeared to box up a necklace Viktor insisted I needed ‘for intimidation purposes,’ he stepped just outside the doorway and lit a cigarette like he owned the air as much as the marble under his feet.
He cupped the flame with his hand, took a drag, then exhaled a slow stream of smoke toward the open corridor where the air conditioning could steal it away.
“You’re going to die of that,” I muttered.
“We’re all going to die of something, kotenok,” he replied, lips quirking. “At least this one looks good.”
Andrei stepped up beside me. “You like any of this?” he asked quietly. The teasing from earlier was gone. The question felt genuine.
I considered it.
“I’m not used to… luxury,” I admitted. “It feels like I’m putting on a costume.”
“You are, in a sense,” he said. “All of us are. We just wear it more comfortably because we grew up in it.”
I huffed a laugh. “At least you’re honest.”
“I try,” he grinned.
Viktor glanced between us and smirked. “Careful, little brother. You’re starting to sound like you care.”
Andrei shot him a look. “You sound like you can’t stand not having someone’s full attention.”
“I have plenty of attention,” Viktor said. “Some of it’s even earned.”
“Most of it isn’t,” Mikhail added as he joined us.
Viktor clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”
I rolled my eyes, but when I glanced back, Andrei was watching me.
Not staring, just watching. The kind of focused, unsettling attention that felt like being studied down to the bones, like he was taking apart my reactions piece by piece to see which ones belonged to him and which ones still belonged to his brothers.
His arms were folded, shoulder braced against the gleaming display case behind him, but his eyes were thoughtful and just a little hungry.
I shifted under the weight of it. “What?” I demanded.
That made the corners of his mouth tilt up in a grin, almost as if he’d expected the question.
He uncrossed his arms and said, “For the record, I don’t need my brothers’ sloppy seconds.”
My brows shot up in surprise. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged, deceptively casual. “You’ve already been in their beds. I’m not interested in following in their footsteps.”
Mikhail’s expression went flat. “Andrei,” he warned in a deep growl.
Viktor just grinned.
I turned fully toward the youngest Dragunov, folding my arms across my chest. “Interesting choice of phrase,” I returned.
“Accurate, though,” he replied.
I stepped closer, watching his pupils dilate, not with fear, but with anticipation.
“You’re right that I slept with your brothers,” I said sweetly. “The two of them were really good, too. They made sure to take care of me in all the right ways.”
A flicker of darkness crossed his face.
“But,” I continued, smile widening, “I understand where you’re coming from, though. You just don’t want me to see how small your dick is compared to theirs.”
The silence that followed hit like a dropped ton of bricks.
Viktor choked. Actually choked.
Mikhail’s jaw flexed so hard I thought his teeth might crack.
Andrei stared at me.
Then, slowly, his mouth curved.
“You want to find out?” he asked, his voice turning husky.
We stood there, tension thick as the air before a late-summer storm, neither of us backing down. It was stupid. Reckless.
And yet, I liked the way he looked at me.
Mikhail cleared his throat. “Enough.”
We both looked his way.
“We have a mission,” he said. “This is not a vacation.”
“So you’ve said,” Viktor murmured.
“Viktor,” Mikhail snapped.
“What? I’m just admiring your leadership.”
I laughed, unable to help it.
We moved on to another boutique, and another.
Each one adding layers to an experience I’d never asked for and didn’t know what to do with.
I found myself falling into their rhythm without noticing, with Viktor’s loud commentary, Andrei’s sly asides, and Mikhail’s constant gravity as he attempted to keep his brothers under some semblance of control.
As we stepped out onto a private balcony overlooking the glittering sprawl of the city, shopping bags dangling from Viktor’s hand, a new dress brushing my thighs, Andrei leaned on the railing beside me.
He hadn’t stopped watching me. He wasn’t subtle about it either.
Leaning his elbows on the railing, shoulders relaxed, he studied me like I was some interesting puzzle piece he intended to fit exactly where he wanted.
His eyes tracked every shift of my expression, every breath I took.
I felt the weight of his gaze. Felt it all the way down my spine and straight in my core.
Finally, I had enough and turned toward him. “Do you glare at everyone like that, or did I win a special prize today?”
His mouth quirked. “Glare? I’m admiring.”
“Is that what you call it?” I asked. “Feels more like you’re plotting.”
He didn’t deny it. “Maybe I am.”
I scoffed, folding my arms. “Should I be flattered?”
“You should be careful,” he countered. “Men like me don’t stare at women unless they’re thinking about something.”
“And what are you thinking?” I asked, raising a brow.
His eyes dipped—slowly—to the line of the new dress clinging to my hips before he dragged them back to my face. “Nothing you’re ready to hear yet.”
I barked a laugh. “You’re adorable when you think you’re the dangerous one.”
He stepped closer, but not close enough to touch me. Just close enough that I had to tilt my chin up to keep the upper hand.
“Princess,” he murmured, “I was dangerous the moment you walked onto our private jet.”
“And I was dangerous long before that,” I shot back.
He smirked. “That’s why I like you.”
“Is that supposed to endear me to you?”
“No,” he replied coolly. “But it’s true.”
“Your brothers said the same thing,” I said, flicking my gaze past him toward the gallery behind us. “I’m starting to think it’s genetic.”
He leaned in just slightly, testing my boundaries, voice dropping low enough for only me to hear. “Oh, I don’t need my brothers’ lines.”
“Or their experience?” I asked coyly.
His smile froze.
Got him.
I tapped a finger against his chest. “Relax. I haven’t decided what kind of trouble you are yet.”
“I can show you.”
“I bet you can,” I said, brushing past him to look at the city. “But you’ll have to earn it.”
“Oh?” he asked behind me. “And how does one earn you?”
I glanced back over my shoulder, giving him a slow, taunting smile. “Surprise me, little Dragunov.”
That did it.
His pupils dilated, his expression layering with hunger, amusement, and dangerous intent.
“I just might try, princess,” he grinned.
When I finally turned back to the skyline, heart thudding against my ribs, I knew the truth with sudden clarity.
I wasn’t just dancing around one Dragunov, I was circling all three.
Or were they circling me?