“Fine,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I’ll play little spy for now, but don’t expect me to thank you for the privilege.”
A humorless chuckle escapes him. “You’ll thank me that it wasn’t worse when the assignment is over.”
“I doubt it.”
The others shake their heads and sigh while I turn and walk away, unwilling to remain in that conversation any longer.
A quiet voice in the back of my mind tells me to stay back and listen to more of what they have planned or what is ahead of us, but I can’t force myself to stay there.
Instead, the whiskey in my stomach feels heavier now as I return to my spot, not caring about how long my brothers linger nearby.
The night doesn’t feel as carefree or spontaneous as it had before Roman dragged me into his plans.
The thought of being put on babysitting duty feels like a slap to the face, whether my brothers want to acknowledge it or not. Even more so, considering who my target is.
I’m not worried about watching over Katya. If I know anything about most daughters in our world, she’ll be nothing more than a spoiled brat who is likely more than happy that her dad’s gone. His money will be more accessible to her than ever before, so long as Yuri doesn’t have a tight hold on it.
And now I’m supposed to keep my eyes on her like she’s the most important link in all of this. As if she is some kind of threat.
I wholeheartedly doubt it.
Worst of all, Roman decided this is where my skills should be placed. Where I’ll excel best.
Grabbing a drink from a passing tray, I drain it fast and ignore the burn.
By the time I glance back to where my family had been, I find the space empty. I let go of a heavy breath and focus on everything else around me instead.
A group of young women dancing some distance away laugh and smile together, almost drawing the club’s attention to them. There’s a brunette with them that catches my eye as she smiles at me, performing an obvious once-over of me. But I don’t move toward her.
I should be enjoying myself tonight. This is my scene, after all. There’s music, expensive drinks, and more than enough pretty women. But I can only think about how Roman looked at me like I was still a kid incapable of handling the simplest task.
Babysitting. That’s what this is.
Fine…if Roman wants me to watch the Balakin girl, then I will. But I’ll do it my way.
And hopefully, this assignment won’t be as boring as I expect.
Chapter 2 - Katya
The steady pressure behind the spray gun in my hand is comforting in a way that words could never do justice to. I move it in smooth, even strokes, watching as the electric blue pigment blooms over the side panel, bringing the piece to life.
Everything about it is hypnotic, keeping me in that trance-like state while the rest of the world stays quiet, save for the radio playing throughout the shop.
For a long while, I sink into that familiar rhythm, inhaling through my mask almost in time with my gliding hand, allowing the paint to flow.
My routine is easy. At least, it’s straightforward and predictable. I get to keep my head down and work, to feel like I’m genuinely building something for myself.
It has been years in the making, but I wouldn’t change any of it. Not when it was me who did it. When I decided to take matters into my own hands, and took the path I wanted.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, annoyingly pulling me out of my zone.
Sighing, I keep the gun steady while I finish a final pass before stepping back and setting it down. I peel off the mask, subsequently tugging my braid loose the moment it gets caught on my coveralls.
My phone buzzes again, almost more insistent.
I already know who it is.
“Jesus Christ,” I mumble under my breath, pulling off a glove before fishing my phone out of my back pocket.
