I press my tongue against the roof of my mouth and stare at the desk between us. He reads my silence and seems satisfied with the fact that I'm not arguing. Then he stubs the cigarette out and folds his hands on the desk and his whole posture changes. He relaxes and lets his shoulders droop a little as he says, "Bogdan and I have been talking about what happens after this wraps up. If things go according to plan, the family absorbs pieces of the Kuzin fight infrastructure. Their venues, their contacts, their betting networks. All of that needs someone to run it."
I feel like a woman trying to lure in a frightened, lost animal. If I make eye contact, he may back off and run away, and I've been waiting so long for this offer to come up, I don't dare spook him. My eyes lock on a knot in the wood of his desk as I listen.
"Your name came up. That's huge, Sis. Bogdan's never offered that to anyone outside the three of us," Yefim says, and he lights another cigarette and takes a drag. "The fact that it's on the table should tell you how seriously we're taking this mission you're on."
Finally, I raise my eyes and look at him to see he's being genuine. I learned a long time ago to read my brothers, though Bogdan can be a bit flighty. But I know when they're lying. Still, there is a reserved part of me that knows even if I do this perfectly, they could still change their minds. They dangle the carrot to make me run, and then when I'm heaving for breath and sweaty, they change their minds. But how do I stop chasing when it's everything I want?
"I'll get you what you need," I say. "Fight schedules, venues, fighter cards…" It makes my gut tighten into a sickening fist that threatens to drown me in guilt. I have to do this—I know I can do this.
"Make it fast." He points the cigarette at me and winks. "We're running out of patience."
I grab my jacket and walk out through the club and into the street where I finally blow out a breath and visualize my guilt going with it. Alisa is going to ask me about Kazimir and I'm going to tell her how incredible he is—which only reminds me how much I like him and makes me feel worse and makes me want him. I hate this.
I stalk into the bakery across the street and walk up to the counter to order a cup of coffee. I have a bit of time before I have to go meet Alisa, and I need this time to get my head on straight and remind myself of what's important. Men come and go, but my brothers are forever. They’re my lifeline. They are the ones who will set me up for a career that will last my whole life.
Kazimir is just?—
"Zora?"
My whole body goes stiff. I turn to see Kazimir standing in the doorway with his hands in his jacket pockets, his eyebrows up, his mouth half open. For a few seconds my mind races through every bad possibility—he followed me, he saw me leave the club, he knows who I am—but his face is too unguarded for any of it. He's genuinely caught off guard, and the surprise on his face melts into a grin before he's taken two steps inside.
"What are you doing here?" I keep my voice light even though my pulse is racing now. My God, if he'd have seen me five minutes earlier, what would he have thought? What if he'd have watched me walk out of the club doors?
"I train at a gym a couple blocks over. I come here afterward sometimes." He points over his shoulder with his thumb. "You?" I know the gym he's talking about, not one of ours, so probably one of theirs. We always wondered who ran it, and now I know. Not really useful information for my brothers, but it relaxes me a little to know he's just genuinely here randomly.
"Visiting a friend in the area." I nod at a booth nearby as I pick up my coffee from the barista. "Sit down, Kaz. Get a coffee."
He orders at the counter and comes back with a black coffee, dropping into the seat across from me. He's so beautiful, andI don't use that term for a man often. But Kazimir has perfect, flawless skin, eyes that sparkle when he smiles, and a personality to match it. Those facts tighten the noose around my neck until I almost want to cry. Alisa would ask me what I'm doing to this perfect man to hurt him when all he’s done is pay attention to me and care.
"I'm so glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you something." He grins over the rim of his mug and I squirm a little.
"What's that?" I sip my coffee, mostly to hide my unease.
"My uncle's getting married in a few weeks. The whole family's gonna be there." He takes a sip and sets the cup down. "I asked him this morning if I could bring a plus-one and he said yes. His woman's been asking about you, apparently." His ears get pinker. "I want you to come with me."
"To the wedding?" Oh, my God, this isn't good. Men ask women to attend weddings with them when things are getting serious. Now it's my turn to have pink rising in my cheeks. I can't go with him to a wedding. People who go to weddings think about getting married and romance is in the air, and Alisa would say it's serious now.
I swallow hard and try not to show how panicked I feel inside.
"To the wedding. As my date." He grins, and it's the kind of grin that takes years off his face. "I know it's a big thing. Meeting the family and all of that. But I want you there."
"Kaz…" I start to protest, but I watch his eyes shift. His smile stays locked in place, but the almost microscopic change in his expression shows me he's bracing for rejection. Then I let my shoulders relax and blink a few times to keep myself from revealing my own micro-expressions. "I'd love to."
He sighs and grins. "You had me there for a second. Look, I know it's huge but I want you on my arm. You'll be the most beautiful woman in the room."
I love seeing his face light up, which means when he's crushed, it's gonna kill me.
"Other than the bride, right?" I lift both eyebrows and he chuckles at me.
One day at a time, Zora… You've got this. You just have to keep your head on your shoulders and know it’s gonna hurt like hell when this is over.
13
KAZIMIR
"You look like a corpse," Stepan says from the chair behind me. He sits smugly smirking at my being poked and prodded for this damn tuxedo I don't even want to wear. I'm not a part of the wedding party. I'll just be present to celebrate, but Mila insists we all match.
"I look fine," I tell him, holding still while the tailor works the chalk along my sleeve. Weddings are a big deal for the Kuzin crew, so I'm holding my tongue, but I'd much prefer a relaxed look.
