We arrive as Mikhail pulls into the driveway.
“Who is that?” Vik asks, staring at Mikhail as he gets out of his car.
“Mikhail Ivanov,” I whisper. “That’s all I know. But I think he’s powerful.”
“How do you know?” Vik whispers back.
I nod at Boris. “His reaction said so.”
Boris grumbles under his breath as he gets out of the car. “Don’t dawdle, ladies. Get out.”
Mila and I hurry out of the car, but Vik takes her sweet time. From how Boris sneers, it’s clear she’s getting on his nerves.
Vik walks right up to Mikhail. “I’m Viktoriya Morozova.”
“I know.” He looks away from her to Mila. “And you’re Mila Morozova. I know all three of you.” He turns to me, completely ignoring everyone else. “Aren’t you going to invite me inside?”
Do I want to invite Mikhail inside? He’s … bold. He’s assertive and arrogant. I think I’m slightly afraid of him, but my body sings to stand closer to him.
“Sofiya doesn’t invite people inside,” Vik says. “That’s my job as eldest sister.”
Mikhail doesn’t take his eyes off me. I feel like I’m drowning in his gaze.
Vik opens the door and walks inside. Boris quickly follows. Mila gives Mikhail a curtsy, which doesn’t seem to fit the occasion, before hurrying inside.
“Shall we?” Mikhail asks, motioning to the door.
I gulp and walk forward, stepping over the threshold. I can feel Mikhail right behind me—there’s a coolness radiating off him that sends shivers over my body.
“So, Mikhail, did you work with our father?” Vik asks, guiding us all into the living room. I take a seat on the couch, and Boris slides right in beside me. Mila looks at us with wide eyes as she perches on the edge of the couch.
Mikhail remains standing, resting his arm on the mantel. Vik makes a point of sitting near him. For some reason, that annoys me.
“On occasion,” Mikhail explains. “But I run my own business. In Russia.”
“You live in Russia?” Mila asks in an awed voice. “I’ve never met anyone who lives outside of the States.”
“It’s a big world out there,” he says. “And I’m in control of a lot of it.”
“So, you’re a Bratva boss, is that it?” Vik asks. I can see the eagerness coming off her. Mikhail is exactly the type of man she would want to be with. Powerful, handsome, older.
It’s not lost on me how much older Mikhail is than me. It only makes me feel more vulnerable around him—like he can see inside me. A man with experience.
“I am.” Mikhail keeps his eyes on me as he speaks, which I can tell annoys Vik. “And I’m looking for a woman to join me in my ventures. A wife.”
I gulp. Why is my body tingling?
Boris wraps his arm around my shoulder. I can still taste the faint traces of vomit in my mouth.
“Our father was looking for a good marriage match for me,” Vik says. Me, I notice, she says. Not us. She makes a point of crossing her legs. She always had the best legs.
“And you think I’m that?” he says, still locking eyes with me.
Vik looks between Mikhail and me and huffs. “Well, why not? I’m the eldest daughter of a Bratva boss, and you’re a Bratva boss. It just makes sense.”
Finally, he looks at her. Vik perks up immediately. “It does make sense. But I’m not a man who takes suggestions from other people. I make up my own mind.” His eyes turn back to me. “I take what I want.”
I clamp my legs together and hold my hands tight in my lap. Why is Mikhail looking at me like he wants to eat me alive? I don’t want that. I just want to be left alone.
And yet, I want him to look at me. I can’t make up my mind. My mind can barely form thoughts as he locks his eyes with mine.
“Well, it was good of you to join us, Mikhail,” Boris says, standing up and extending his hand. Mikhail doesn’t take it. Awkwardly, Boris drops his hand. “But these girls just had a long night of dancing. I say we let them rest.”
Mikhail looks at Boris like he’s an amusing little fly that keeps hitting the window over and over again because it’s not smart enough to know how to get out. “Of course. It was nice to meet all of you.”
Vik stands quickly and gives Mikhail her hand. He ignores her and gives Mila a nod before turning to me. “Sofiya, it was a pleasure.” With that, he walks out of the room and our house.
Vik is stunned. No man has ever rejected her before.
Boris faces me, and I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t want Boris’s attention. Not one bit. “Sofiya, I’ll come back tomorrow to discuss wedding plans. I was thinking this weekend.”
I shoot off the couch. “What? This … weekend?”
“Yes. I’ve already picked out the dress you will wear. I’ll bring it over tomorrow for you to try it on. I can’t wait to see you in it.” He licks his lips, and my stomach churns.
I watch him leave our house. He can’t leave fast enough, in my opinion.
“I love weddings,” Mila says. “I can’t wait to dance.” She starts slowly dancing around the room, looking like a real Disney princess.
