“I haven’t met anyone I’ve been interested in fucking either,” I tell him. “A woman who fits my intimate needs as well as stimulates my mind… I’m beginning to think she doesn’t exist.”
“Ah, well.” Mikki takes another drink, nearly draining his glass. “Speaking of your ex, I should let you know that she’s been very busy lately.”
I roll my eyes. That woman has been driving me crazy since we broke up. I thought after I left for Russia without a word to her, she’d get the hint. “What has she been doing?”
“Asking about you, mostly,” he says. “Also, bragging to anyone who will listen that once you return, you’ll take her as your Bratva queen.”
I nearly choke on my drink. “She’s lost her mind. I would sooner marry a stray dog.”
Mikki laughs, but I don’t particularly find this very funny. Kat really has to find another hobby.
“So, I can take that as a no in terms of getting back together with her?”
I glare at him. “If you ever hear of me taking Katerina back,” I tell him, “I want you to find me and put a bullet in my head because I am no longer mentally fit enough to run this Bratva.”
“Duly noted.” He chuckles.
3
NATALYA
Iglance at the time as I put on my high heels. In about five minutes, Andrei will be pulling up. I need to be the first person to greet him.
A week ago, I was relaxing by the pool with Ilya and joking about my father’s reaction to meeting my boyfriend for the first time. She had been right all along, of course. If Andrei and I are getting serious, then I need to take a chance and tell my father about him.
A few days after that, I got up the nerve to tell him. I caught him in his office one evening as he was discussing something with one of his men. The moment I appeared at his door, my father dismissed the man and asked me to come in.
“I just wanted you to know,” I said, “that I met someone at school.”
There had been no reaction on his face. He just stared at me with his icy blue eyes. “What’s his name?”
“Andrei. Andrei Burgov.”
He nodded slightly, the corners of his mouth turning down. “Strong name. You met him in school, you said?”
“Yes.” My throat felt like it was closing up at that moment and I almost just turned around and walked out.So, he’s been told, I thought. The hard part’s over.
And just then, I realized that telling my father was not the hard part. The hard part was going to be what I had to tell him next.
“I want you to meet him,” I told him. “It would be very important to me if I could invite him over to dinner so you can get to know him.”
He sat back in his chair, his steel glare looking me up and down. “Make the arrangements,” he said. “I’ll make myself available.”
I just stood there, my feet rooted to the floor. He cocked his head at me. “Is there anything else?”
“Give him a chance,” I made myself say.
“Excuse me?”
“Please, Papa. He’s a good person. Intelligent, kind, and… and good. Really, really good, and I need for you to treat him well.”
He scowled at me and said, “I always treat your boyfriends well, Natalya. It’s not my fault that you’ve developed a taste for weak men.”
“He’s not weak,” I replied. “He’s…” I cut myself off. There was no point in arguing that with him, so instead I just said, “Just, please, give him a chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”
He regarded me for a few moments, then he smiled. A rare sight. “Okay, Natalya. I will give him a chance.”
Now, I’m standing here looking at myself in the mirror. The black cocktail dress I have on is simple. Dignified. Short sleeves that stop mid-bicep, the collar low, but showing just a sliver of cleavage, a nice, velvety rose pattern around the waist, and a hem that stops right above my knee.
