I’m fuming. No one speaks to me like this. Literally no one.
But Jenica’s already walking out of the room.
A moment later, I hear a door slam. That’s two doors in my face. Two homes harboring women who’d rather see me dead than see me at all.
Awesome.
I change into a White Stripes t-shirt and a pair of ripped black jeans that have seen better days. I use them mainly for fucking around in the garage, and head out to do just that.
Unbeknownst to most people, I have black 1967 Chevy Chevelle SS. I’ve written off racing and the scene that comes with it entirely, but I could never write off cars. It’s in my blood, even if a bit of that blood hemorrhaged and dried up with Nik’s death.
Honestly, I avoid working on the car for that reason too. It doesn’t actually need work. It’s cherried out, pristine and running. At least it ran the last time I started it up.
That was the day he died. A race day. A race I wanted no part of, but when I heard he was participating, I hauled ass over to the track—too late. I pushed the Chevy to its limits and it still wasn’t fast enough.
I don’t blame the car. I don’t blame racing. I blame family feuds. I blame the Bratva.
I blame myself.
I polish the hood with a soft hand and a tight jaw. Because something Jenica said got to me. Crawled under my skin and immediately festered. And it had nothing to do with her selfish hissy fit or her jabs at Amara, though those things burned too.
The fact is, I never wanted this life either. I wasn’t originally built for it. I never wanted to be apakhanor have anything to do with any of it, really. I used to be different in a lot of ways.
Nik was the wild one. Nik was the one with the temper and the leadership, even if he was my younger brother. I was quieter. I had an interest in mechanics. In the way things worked. That wasn’tpakhanmaterial, and I was okay with that.
Until he died.
After that, I was angry. I took over the role that he was meant to fill, and with vengeance. It’s not often that I come out here. That I pull the cover off the car. That I allow myself to sit in it and drown in the memories it brings flooding in. Because it makes me wonder where I’d be if Nik was still alive. It makes me wonder how different everything would be.
And those thoughts are fucking consuming.
“Good morning, Mr. Rozanov.”
Amara’s words are cold as I walk into my office. No smile. No tantalizing stare. She’s also dressed uncomfortably professionally today. Gray slacks and a black turtleneck sweater. While it fits her form, it’s not exactly flattering in the way many of her clothes are.
“Good morning,” I echo, then realize I never do that. I usually ignore her, as I did any of my assistants. I’d take my coffee, make sure it was exactly as it should be, and move on to my schedule. Once Amara and I were more… acquainted, I started responding with a kiss. Right now, I think I might lose my lips if I tried that.
Amara says nothing as I round the desk and look out the window. That’s my ritual and she knows it. Usually there is banter between us, but not this morning.
“Chilly in here,” I tell her.
“I don’t have control over the thermostat, sir,” she replies.
I’m not talking about the actual temperature.
I study her for a beat. After a long moment, she clicks her tongue. “Do you need anything else from me, Mr. Rozanov?”
I look down at my schedule and skim through it. It’s the usual clusterfuck of a day, and it’s whatever.
“No, I’m good for now. You’re dismissed, Miss Parker.”
I couldn’t tell you if it was the military shooing out the door or the formal name that makes irritation flash over her already annoyed face, but it’s very clear—the woman is not happy with me.
Make that two for two, because Jenica was a raging bitch this morning. Usually the woman doesn’t wake up till about noon, but this morning she was raiding the pantry around 5 A.M. If I had to guess, she got drunk last night and needed some carbs to cure the hangover. Either way, she was alive—allegedly—when I got up to work out, and she was less than happy to see me as well.
Amara is almost out the door when I stop her.
“Wait.”
