Maybe my sister can be good for him, break him out of his shell a little and keep him from obsessively focusing on me.
“I… uh… thank you?” he stammers, clearly wishing the ground would swallow him.
Lettie smiles slowly and wickedly. She leans in so close, her breath nearly fogs his glasses “Tell me, do all Russian men have a brooding aura, or just you? Because honestly, it’s very intimidating. And definitelysuperhot.”
My jaw nearly drops.
Oh, Lettie. Let the man breathe first.
Matvey sputters words that don’t at all make sense—a jumble of Russian and English all smashed together as hefrantically sets his cup down before he spills what’s left in it. He lifts a shaky hand to fiddle with his glasses, a soft noise escaping him when my sister reaches up to tug them off his face.
“Much better,” she teases.
His ears are scarlet now, and the sheer panic on his face nearly makes me laugh.
Before I can, a dry voice cuts through the room. “Are you done torturing him yet?”
I turn to look over my shoulder, spotting Lev leaning against the side of the doorway. There’s an amused gleam in his eyes that I’ve never seen before. It makes him look far younger than I ever thought possible.
Lettie jumps to her feet, coming over to offer her hand to him for a formal handshake. “Ah, and you must be Lev. Maksim’s right-hand man. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
He raises a brow though he takes her hand in a firm grip. “And you must be Ivy’s sister. The one trying to find herself a Mafia husband.”
Behind us, Matvey balks.
She grins like he just handed her a compliment. “Oh. So, you’ve heard. Does that mean you’re interested in putting your hat in the ring to try your luck at being one of my suitors?”
Something like a laugh escapes him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to commit to something like that. Best of luck to you, though.”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “Who says I need luck?”
He lifts a single brow, watching her with that steady, assessing gaze he always has. “I’ll give you this, you’re persistent.”
She winks. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
I roll my eyes so hard it hurts. My sister, in Russia for less than a week, is already setting her sights on two of the most dangerous men in the goddamn building. Next, she’ll be hitting up Roman, andthatis a can of worms I absolutely do not want to get involved with.
Especially since Katya seems like the protective type of older sister regardless of there only being a difference of seven minutes.
Lev eventually pulls away from my sister’s antics and nods his chin toward me.
“Walk with me,” he says.
I follow, grateful for the out. We end up in one of the quieter hallways where the noise of my sister tormenting Matvey fades behind thick doors.
“How are you holding up?” Lev asks.
I hesitate, though not because I’m intimidated. I appreciate the way he looks at me without judgment, how he hasn’t treated me like a traitor since day one even though he has every right to. It makes me want to be honest with him.
“It’s not easy. I know none of you trust me. Hell, I don’t blame you,” I admit.
He tilts his head, waiting.
“I do regret it… selling Maksim out like I did. I did it for a good reason, but I should’ve tried to work with you all once I was free. I was… Mikhail terrified me, having my son at his mercy. I felt trapped.”
Lev studies me for a long moment. “You did what you had to do. None of us can call you wrong for what you did.”
Something inside me eases. His words don’t erase the guilt, but they dull the sharpest edges of it.
