She swallows, wipes her fingers. “A girl like me?”
“Polished. Perfect. The kind who drinks smoothies with kale and lectures people about calories.”
She grins, reaching for her fries. “You clearly don’t know me. I love burgers. In case you can’t tell from the way I’m devouring this one.”
“I can tell.” I take a bite of mine, still watching her. “You’re adorable when you eat like that.”
She laughs, rolling her eyes. “You’re mocking me.”
“I’m admiring you. You’re cute. For a fake girlfriend.”
She shakes her head, smiling, but I can see her cheeks warm. There’s something grounding about this. The two of us sitting in a sticky booth, sharing fries, the normalcy of it. I haven’t felt normal in years. Callista makes me hope for a life I might never have. It’s as scary as all the things she makes me feel. My goes to places it has never gone to before when she’s with me. Some dark places. And some really wholesome places that would make my brothers laugh. I wonder how it’d be to be old, our hair white, and still smiling while eating burgers. To be able to enjoy good food and each other at that age seems like the kind of romantic wish that teenage girls wish for. In the brutal world of the bratva, most men don’t even live to be that old.
Especially men in power. Leo has been through a lot of near-brushes with death. And if I take his place, my life will be in danger constantly. Not that it isn’t now. We have enemies, but they would probably pick Aleksei or Leo to kill first, not me. I work behind the scenes. That keeps me hidden.
Callista leans forward, elbows on the table. Her sweet voice cuts through my depressing thoughts. “So, who are the students you’re recruiting?”
I pull out my phone and show her a list. “A few finance majors. One computer science student. They all have what I need—numbers brains, connections, or access to data. Most of them have heavy debt and difficult family situations. That makes them easier to bring in. Getting a traditional job will be difficult for a few of them. They’ll like my offer.”
Her smile fades. “You make it sound like you’re rescuing them by exploiting them.”
“Maybe I am,” I say simply. “But they’ll get paid. They’ll belong somewhere. That’s more than most people get.”
She studies me, curious. “You’re strategic. You know how to use people to get what you want.”
“My brother says that too.”
“Because it’s true.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s just obvious. Doesn’t everybody know that’s how people think?”
She tilts her head. “You make everything sound so simple.”
“It is simple.” I glance at her. “You just have to stop expecting fairness.”
She sighs, then smiles faintly. “Maybe that’s why I like being around you. You’re so real. My parents pretend to love me in front of other people, but they’re so fake. They only care about themselves. At least with you, what I see is what I get.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment.”
“It is.”
She takes another bite, ketchup smudging her thumb. I’m mesmerized by small, ordinary things: the curve of her mouth as she chews, the little hum she makes when she likes the food, the way she looks up at me between bites, soft and warm and entirely unaware of what she’s doing to me.
“You really like this place,” I say.
“I like how it has that casual college vibe,” she replies. “No one here is pretending to be something they’re not.”
“Except us,” I say.
Her gaze meets mine. “Maybe not.”
The words linger between us, heavier than they should be.
I take a sip of Coke to hide the way my chest tightens.
She changes the subject. “What are your plans? After you graduate.”
I shrug. “Maybe I’ll end up running a big operation. An organized crime empire. My brother says I’m good with numbers. Maybe one day, I’ll be running everything.”
