“Oh no, you got me,” I reply dryly. “I’m too fun, better hate me for it.”
“I already do.”
Jesus, he’s like a Russian Apollo. But Russian Apollo who has Nico’s job. A horrible combination. I better make sure that Irina likes me as much as Anya does so he doesn’t piss off his wife by killing me.
Before I can figure out how to respond to him, the car rolls to a stop. I once again follow their leads and get out as they do, grabbing my bag before the valet can drive away with it. I don’t even have time to check out the massive hotel we’ve come to ahalt at because they rush me inside so fast that I almost wonder if there’s some kind of security threat.
In a matter of minutes, we’re through the lobby, into a private elevator, and shooting up to one of the top floors. A penthouse was way more than I was expecting, but I’m guessing it’s more of a gesture of goodwill toward my father than it is a gift for me.
“Jesus, this place is huge,” I blurt out, walking into the luxurious space.
Everything looks shiny and polished, even the crown molding on the ceiling looks like it hasn’t ever known a spec of dust or dirt. There’s a living room, kitchen, bedroom, office space, bathroom, and balcony from what I can quickly see, and all of it is larger than necessary for one person.
“If you bring anyone back here with you, I’ll know,” Anton warns suddenly, pulling me out of my daze.
“Why would I bring anyone here?” I ask, eyebrows drawing in as I spin around to face him. “I don’t know anyone here other than your family.”
“You don’t have to know someone to bring them to your hotel room.”
Realization dawns and I gape at the man. “Are you trying to tell me not to use your hotel like a bachelor pad? I don’t do one-night stands, and even if I did, I wouldn’t use this weekend to get laid. I’m here to find my dad a house and to see Anya. Taking time out of the weekend to hook up when I’m trying my best to see my friend would feel kind of fucking icky, honestly. That’d be like trying to get lucky while you’re visiting your grandmother or something.”
He narrows his eyes. “You compare my daughter to your grandmother?”
“What?No,” I reply far too harshly. “I don’t even have a grandma, unless you count Martha—she’s grandmotherly. I justmean that Anya’s important to me, I wouldn’t disrespect her like that.”
God, I sound ridiculous.
Groaning, I rub a hand down my face. “I feel like there’s no possible way for me to win this conversation. If I say the wrong thing, you’re going to read into it in several different ways and I have no idea how to say the right thing.”
“Lev will stay here with you,” Anton tells me abruptly. “Mikhail and I have business. We will be back.”
“Wait, what?—”
He doesn’t wait for my question, nor does he offer any clarification. Anton takes his younger brother and disappears back into the elevator without another word.
I face Lev, not even trying to hide my baffled face. “They’re not making you spend all weekend here with me, are they?”
“Fuck no.”
Thank God.
“And you’re not about to kill me, right?”
“I wish.”
Well, that’s better than a knife to the chest or a bullet to the head.
For several minutes, we simply exist in the same space. Lev sits on the couch and stares at me, and I resist the urge to say I need to piss just to get away from the man. But I’m no coward, no matter how much I dislike the unease he’s filling the room with.
“I met your wife,” I say eventually, trying to fill the tense silence.
“She told me,” he grunts, obviously displeased.
“Anya told me that they used to be close,” I tack on smoothly. “She’s glad to have her back.”
“She’s always been here.” Lev eyes me, expression twisting into something unreadable. “Waiting for her to be ready.”
Nodding, I hum and drop into the chair farthest away from the man. “It must have been hard. It was hard for Anya, anyway. She told me that she wanted to see her, but that she couldn’t. She didn’t know how to.”
