Then I wonder what “almost” has ever gotten me. I keep picturing Kostya pressed up against that wall. I keep seeing the flush of his cheeks and the easy smile he gave me as he tried to pretend that he didn’t just blow up our future.
Screwalmost.
Andrei holds the door open for me and I walk inside like I own the place. Crossing the threshold feels like stepping into a new version of myself. One who doesn’t settle for less than she deserves. One who isn’t afraid.
Andrei moves past me and sets his jacket aside before crossing to the bar. The motion is unhurried and controlled. He seems to do nothing without purpose, and I feel acutely aware of every small movement I make by comparison.
“What are you drinking?” he asks.
“Do you have whiskey?” I ask.
He smiles without comment and opens up the bar, pulling out a clear bottle of brown liquid. He pulls two glasses and pours the whiskey easily before handing one of the tumblers to me. His fingers brush mine briefly, and the contact sends a flicker of heat up my arm. I wrap my hand around the glass quickly, grounding myself in the cool weight of it.
I take a long sip and immediately cough, the burn catching me off guard.
“Careful,” he says, watching me closely. “Whiskey is meant to be enjoyed slowly.”
“I don’t have time for slow tonight,” I mutter.
I slip off my shoes and set them neatly by the couch before sitting down. I tuck one leg beneath me and let the other dangle, my posture relaxed in a way that surprises even me. I feel exposed in my short dress, but I also feel sort of powerful, like I’m choosing to be seen rather than being put on display.
“So,” I say, lifting my glass slightly. I know who you are. I know all about you.”
He arches an eyebrow slightly.
“What is it you think you know?” he asks with a curious smirk. “I would love to hear how the newspapers have tried to capture me.”
“I know you’re a Bratva boss,” I say. “I know that you’ve been on trial several times, for a variety of crimes.”
“All exaggerated,” he repeats his comment from the elevator.
Careful,I think to myself.He’s a lion, not a kitten.
“Still, people would probably gasp if I told them I went to your hotel suite.”
“What you do and don’t tell people is entirely your business,” he says, tipping his glass at me. “Though it sounds like your fiancé deserves the shock of it.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.” I laugh softly. “He thinks he’s such a big man of the world. He’s always off doing business and making deals. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself in the presence of a real power player.”
“Oh, is that what I am?’ Andrei asks, quirking his eyebrow again. “I should hire you to do my public relations.”
“To a man like Kostya, you’re a king. And he’s nothing but a child playing dress-up.”
“Hear, hear,” Andrei toasts. “What else did you hate about your fiancé? I’ve been told it’s therapeutic to air your grievances.”
I giggle and realize the whiskey is already starting to go to my head. I look up at Andrei and seem to forget about his reputation. He doesn’t look so scary in this room. He’s actually an incredibly attractive man.
His dark hair is flecked with just the tiniest bits of gray. It makes him look distinguished and worldly. His suit is impressively tailored, perfectly cut for his body. It’s tight in a way that shows off his assets without being indecent. Of course, the more I drink, the more indecent it seems.
“Oh,” I pout. “I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I’d much rather talk about you.”
“You apparently know all about me,” he says. “What more is there to say?”
“Do you kill people?” I ask, feeling ridiculously bold.
“That’s privileged information.” He smirks, not looking the least bit offended by my line of questioning. “Do you kill people, Alina? I know nothing about what you do.”
“I only fantasize about it.” I sigh. “Actually, just about killing one man. But we aren’t talking about him.”
