Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Matvei smirks, ever perceptive, and drapes an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I don’t resist. His mother practically vibrates with fury.
It’s not personal, a little voice in the back of my mind whispers.
Matvei doesn’t care about me…
Does he?
He’s loyal. Loyal to the Bratva, to Rafail, to whatever code he’s built his life around. I’m just a puzzle piece in a larger scheme.
The grandfather, thankfully, is much nicer. Unlike some of the others, there’s no tension or unspoken threats laced in his words. He and Zoya are warm, even charming, a contrast to the cold brutality of Matvei’s parents. Grandfather asks polite questions, engaging in small talk as if we’re at afternoon tea instead of sitting in the heart of a criminal empire. His eyes, however, miss nothing.
“I’m told you’re quite skilled with disguises,” he says, his gaze mildly amused. With a wink, he adds, “A gift like that can be a blessing and a curse, eh?”
My cheeks heat, but he’s so friendly I can’t take it personally. “I am. Do you need one?”
“Can you make me pass for thirty?” he asks, eyes twinkling.
Everyone laughs, and Zoya looks at me, thoughtful. “What does that mean you’re good with disguises? What can you do?”
My voice drops, aware of everyone in the room watching me. Zoya’s cheeks flush pink, like she wishes she could take the question back—or at least ask it in private.
Interesting.
Does little Zoya wish to disappear too?
I can imagine it—being under the weight of everyone in this room. Her older, overbearing brothers. Her cousin. Aunt. Uncle. Grandfather.
“I can do anything from subtle changes to a full transformation,” I say smoothly. “Hair color, eye color, facial features—anything easily recognizable. I can manipulate all of that.” I lean over to her, grateful when others start talking among themselves, and we can talk a bit more freely.
The wine flows, and food is passed on large platters as I talk to her about different disguises. I wonder why I was so nervous. I like being here now that his parents are sitting beside Rafail like they’re in the naughty spot.
Vadka excuses himself with a call from home, rising smoothly from the table. At first, I wish I had a phone call that could excuse me from the room, but I’m planted right here, glued to Matvei’s side.
Then I see the way Vadka looks at his phone, with a shy, unguarded smile. “It’s Mariah calling. Be right back.”
Now I’m wishing someone would look at their phone like that when I called.
He comes back in a few seconds later. “Oh, hey, she’s here. I’ll let her in.”
Zoya leaps to her feet. “Oh my gosh, I almost forgot the cake! Everybody stay right here!” She flees to the kitchen.
“She does a lot of cooking around here,” Matvei says. “She likes to.”
“Thank fuck Matvei doesn’t,” a woman’s voice cuts in from the doorway. “We’d all be eating chocolate-covered ants.”
I look up to see a tall woman with wide brown eyes and soft, wavy brown hair that hits her shoulders, standing beside Vadka. He places his hand on the small of her back as she smiles at me. “Anissa? Welcome. I’m Mariah.”
I give her a shy little wave back but feel a little more at ease in her presence.
“Oh my god.” Matvei groans, rolling his eyes. “Seriously, we did that one time. Wasn’t even my idea.”
I’ve never seen Matvei’s eyes twinkle like that. He looks almost casual. I hardly knew the man had a sense of humor, but here, among friends and his Bratva brothers, I’m seeing another side of him.
Semyon laughs for the first time. I get the feeling he doesn’t laugh very often. “You always try to blame Rodion, especially when he isn’t here.” He shakes his head. “As if Rafail and I didn’t practically raise you two and know exactly how you work in league.”
His mother clears her throat. “Excuse me?”
To my surprise, this time, it’s Semyon who levels her with a look. “You two traveled a lot. They practically lived with us every summer. Did you forget?”
She rolls her eyes heavenward, looking personally offended.
So Rafail and Semyon had firsthand experience raising Matvei and his brother. Maybe that’s why Matvei is more tolerable than his parents.
I want to see him around Rodion.
Semyon grins. “Then there was that debacle at the nightclub.”
Vadka pulls out a chair for Mariah, bending to kiss the top of her head before she sits. My heart turns over.
“You mean strip club, don’t you?”
Vadka pulls out a chair and slouches into it, stretching his legs out like he’s settling in for a show. He tips his whiskey toward Semyon in a salute. I notice the thick gold band glinting on his hand, the same one that matches his wife’s.
Wordlessly, he pours her a glass of white wine. “Oh, don’t stop now,” he drawls, his deep voice laced with amusement. “I love this story. The one where those two idiots tried to scam their way into the most expensive strip club in St. Petersburg.”