ALEXANDER
The wind carries the scent of fresh grass, the sound of distant chatter blending into the rustling of trees. Viktor swings, his form practiced and effortless, the club slicing clean through the air before the ball soars across the course.
“Perfect shot,” he says, dropping his club with satisfaction. “You see that?”
“Mm.” I roll my shoulders. “Not bad.”
He scoffs. “Not bad? That was fucking flawless.”
I pick up my club and step forward, adjusting my grip. I don’t waste time when I swing- The ball cuts through the sky, landing a few feet from his.
Viktor watches it, then lets out a low chuckle. “Show-off.”
We walk across the course in comfortable silence, the distant chatter of other players fading into the background. I don’t come here often, but Viktor does. He likes the quiet, the exclusivity. For me, it’s just another place to breathe away from everything else.
When we reach a shaded spot near the lake, Viktor stretches before dropping onto one of the benches. I stand beside him, eyes drifting across the course.
“You know,” he starts, leaning back against the bench, “you’ve been off the grid lately.”
I glance at him.
He smirks. “Vera said you’ve been avoiding her.”
I roll my eyes at that. “She reports to you now?”
“Something like that,” he replies with a smirk, “are you done with her?”
I ground my teeth this time watching the lake, “We were never together, you know that.”
You’ve been fucking her for years, Sasha,” Viktor says flatly. “You know she’s in love with you. And your mother likes her.”
I sigh, long and heavy, running a hand down my face. Sometimes I think Viktor and Maksim exist for the sole purpose of irritating the shit out of me. It’s probably why they get along so damn well.
Vera.
She’s the only woman my family knows. Not the only woman I’ve been with, of course—but the only one they’ve seen consistently. The only one I allow into family dinners, vacations, and birthdays. To them, she’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to serious.
I met her in a club during my military service back in Russia. One look at her across the dance floor, and all I wanted was to take her back to my place, bury her face in my pillow, and fuck her until she couldn’t walk. The smile she gave me told me she knew exactly what I was thinking.
It was supposed to be a one-time thing. It wasn’t. We kept going, again and again, for years.
But from the start, I was clear—it’s just sex. She agreed. And it’s always been simple, clean, and straightforward, with no questions. She calls, I let her in. No problem.
At least… until a month ago.
Until a boy with blonde hair and wide brown eyes walked into my life.
Eyes too soft. Too fucking beautiful. He’s been lodged in my brain ever since, like a bullet I can’t dig out.
“You’re probably not gonna answer me,” Viktor cuts in, crossing his legs lazily. “But is this about the blonde kid?”
The words drag me out of my thoughts. I glance at him, meeting his gaze head-on.
“What?”
“The one from the art exhibition,” he clarifies, watching me closely. “I saw the way you looked at him.”
I arch a brow. “You noticed?”
