“And? Did he?”
“Da.”
I let out a humorless huff. Of course the old coward backed off. “Keep your eyes on him. Sergei doesn’t do coincidence. If he was there, he had a reason.”
Nikolai glances up, leaning back and folding his palms behind his head. “Well, we know he doesn’t want you dead. He wants you weak. What would you do in his position?”
“If I were him? I’d hit the weakest point in my circle. Someone soft. Someone new. Someone I’ve been keeping too close.”
Nikolai’s hands drop from his head, hitting the desk with a hollow thud. “Blyad’,” he whispers. The humor vanishes from his face. “You mean Jonah.”
“Yes.”
My chest tightens. I’ve spent my life eliminating variables, yet I just handed my uncle the ultimate leverage. I brought a man into this house, dressed him in my clothes, and let the world see me touch him. I didn't just find a match, I created a target. If Sergei takes him, it won't just be a blow to the business. It will be the end of me. The realization hits like a physical strike to the ribs. I’ve never had a weakness before. Now I have someone to lose, and it makes every decision dangerous. I can feel the change in my blood—a protective instinct that's sharper than any blade I carry.
“Then what’s our move?”
“We make Jonah the safest man in this city. And we make the rest choke.” Standing, I check my watch. “Speaking of Jonah, he hasn't brought me my morning coffee yet.”
“That’s because it’s already noon, Vitya," Nikolai laughs. “Seriously, Lev is right. You’ve got to loosen the leash a bit. He is suffocating.”
“He is mine to suffocate,” I counter, grabbing my jacket. “If Jonah is not in the kitchen, I’m holding you responsible for his lack of punctuality.”
Nikolai follows me out, hands in his pockets. “Right, because I’m the one who controls his alarm clock. Maybe Jonah finally realized that being your nurse is a twenty-four-hour shift with no hazard pay.”
“He gets paid in protection,” I state, heading down the hallway.
“He gets paid in bruises and your undivided attention,” Nikolai adds with a grin. “Don't act like you're doing him a charity. Lev mentioned he was looking through the library earlier. Probably looking for a way to translate your grunts into actual human speech.”
I pause in the doorway. “Don’t tell me how to handle what’s mine, Niko. If you’re so keen on protecting a sweet boy, find your own pet.”
Nikolai whistles low. “If that’s how you talk about him in daylight, remind me never to fall in love around you.”
I don’t dignify that with an answer. Instead, I leave the office and head down the hallway. We’ve gotten into a habit of him coming to find me, and I like the quiet submission of it. He had better have a good excuse for skipping today.
Halfway there, a sound interrupts my thoughts. I stop. Is that Jonah laughing? The sound is bright, making my jaw lock because it is too unguarded for a house like this. Another voice follows. A familiar one. What the fuck is Lev doing alone in there with him?
“Take it easy, Vitya.” Nikolai passes me, flicking a glance back over his shoulder. A knowing wink follows it. I bite back a response and follow him inside.
The room is alive. Music plays while two guards linger by the back door. Jonah stands at the island with his sleeves rolled up and messy hair falling into his eyes as he chops something. Lev stands close, correcting Jonah’s grip on the knife with two fingers. My vision narrows. The air in my lungs turns to ice. The sound of Jonah's laughter earlier still rings in my ears, but seeing my brother's hands near him makes the noise die a sudden death. From across the doorway, my fingers itch with the need to wrap around the back of Jonah’s neck and yank him away from my brother.
“You want the strokes even.” Lev taps the blade lightly, adjusting Jonah’s wrist. “Otherwise it won't cook right.”
Jonah laughs again, shaking his head. “I’m trying. You’re a terrifying teacher.”
Lev snorts. “I’m a gentle one. You should have seen Viktor at your age because he nearly sliced his thumb to the bone.” He shifts closer, his chest almost brushing Jonah’s back. “Here. Let me show you.”
When he moves to step in behind Jonah, my voice cracks across the kitchen like a gunshot. “Get your hands off him.”
Lev swirls around with a big smile already in place. “Ah, there he is. Come and take a look, Vitya. I’m teaching Jonah how to make pelmeni.”
“I don't care what you’re doing. You’re too close to him.” Ignoring Nikolai’s chuckle and Lev’s surprised look, I focus only on Jonah. My chest is tight. My hands fist at my sides. I want to ask him if this is the reason he forgot to bring me breakfast. Fucking Lev.
“He was just helping,” Jonah offers, though he doesn't step away from the island. He looks at Lev, then back to me, trying to gauge the temperature of the room.
“Lev helps by staying out of the way,” I state, walking toward them. “Not by putting his hands on you.”
“I’m sharing the Morozov legacy, Vitya,” Lev jokes, though he finally puts some distance between them. “A man who can't fold a dumpling isn't fit for this house. Isn't that what Father used to say?”
