My only chance was for Ivan to fuck up. I’d thought perhaps tonight would be it yet he’d somehow slithered his way out of the Italian situation still in tact. I didn’t trust it though—or him, something was off, I just needed to find out what.
“He’s been like this all week,” my father chimed in. “Head in his phone constantly, thoughts elsewhere.” Father paused and I knew from past conversations that he wasn’t done and was waiting for me to look him in the eye.
So I did.
I slipped my phone back into my jacket pocket and looked at him. He raised an eyebrow and took a sip of his champagne, a smug grin on his face.
“Your sister tells me you’ve met someone,” he finally said, and I sighed heavily.
“My sister needs to mind her own business,” I replied sharply, but he didn’t care, he wanted the details. He wanted to make sure she was worthy of the crown she would be wearing. That she was good enough for the family. “It’s nothing. At least, not yet.”
He tutted, not looking convinced. “I warned you, son. You don’t have much time left.”
Anger rose in me and I tried to dampen it down. I didn’t want to ruin the night by arguing with him, especially when he’d been so patient with me. He hadn't been given this choice; a wife had been picked for him and that was his duty. By giving me the time and space to explore, he’d shown he was more progressive than I gave him credit for. I’d never really thought about it. Never really been grateful. He could have easily followed in his own father’s footsteps, handpicking the future Bratva Queen. My father and mother had been lucky. They had loved hard and fast, a perfect match. That wasn’t always the case—just look at Ivan and Marisha.
Marisha…why the fuck hadn’t she replied?
I stared over at the function room entrance, more than ready to barge in there and see why she was ignoring me. Just a text to say she couldn’t meet would suffice, but to leave me hanging like this was agonizing. As if by some twisted miracle, the beautifully dressed fundraiser crowds parted and my sister and mother came out.
“There she is,” my father said, our discussion over for the moment. He walked towards my mother and pulled her into his arms, kissing her like this was the first time he’d seen her all day. My mother laughed sweetly, patting her blushing cheek and chiding my father for mussing her lipstick.
Nikolai clapped me on the shoulder and spoke seriously. “Whoever this mystery woman is, Alexander, you need to show her to your father soon or he’ll be fitting you a wedding suit and sending you down the aisle with a mutton for a wife. I’ve heard the Verinichs are searching for a husband for their daughter.”
I turned and scowled at him. “They should know better than to look in my direction.”
Nikolai chuckled. “Every family is looking in your direction right now, Alexander.”
Katya parted from our parents and headed towards us and Nikolai caught the attention of the bartender again and ordered her a champagne. I cocked an eyebrow at him as he took the glass and held it out to my sister.
“Sometimes it’s just exhausting arguing with her constantly,” he said and winked, but I couldn’t muster my normal response to his antics with her.
“Arguing with whom?” Katya said, taking the champagne he held out, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“You,” I said, sending Nikolai to the doghouse for being such a pussy, “he said you’re argumentative.”
“Fuck off!” he snapped, scowling at me, and I chuckled.
“Did you just tell me to fuck off?” it was Katya’s turn to snap now. “Did you spit in my drink? Or maybe drop a roofie in it?”
“Please, you think I couldn’t have you if I wanted? That I’d need drugs to get you in my bed?” Nikolai said, picking up his vodka with a snort. “If I wanted you, Katya, I could have you anytime. I wouldn’t need to roofie you, woman!”
“I’ve a good mind to throw this drink over you,” she bit out.
“And I’ve a good mind to take you over my lap and spank some manners into you!” he snapped back.
I held my hands up and stepped between them. “I don’t know why you two hate each other so much, but I’m sick of the arguing. No one is throwing a drink, and no one is spanking my goddamn sister!”
“Your friend is a pig,” Katya grumbled, still glaring at him.
“Your sister is a…”
“Be very fucking careful what you say next, my friend,” I said, scowling at Nikolai, “she may be a pain in the ass, but she’s still my sister.”
Thankfully, my mother and father joined us at that moment, and as always, were seemingly amused by the tension between Nikolai and Katya.
“Alexander,” my mother said, “a word please.”
She walked away and I looked to my father for explanation, but he looked as confused as I was. Katya looked away sheepishly, so it was obvious that whatever this was, she knew about it.
