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I nod, then slip from her embrace to approach Mishka and my brother. “Thank you for finding me,” I breathe, fighting the knot of emotion that constricts my throat.
Gripping my brother’s forearm, I rise onto my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. I do the same to Mishka, keeping it quick to make it an innocent gesture, though it’s painful to release him once again.
Then I step back into my mom’s waiting arms, allowing her to steer me toward the stairs.
14
MISHKA
Deeply troubled by the fact that someone threatened to cut Alina up and deliver her back to her father in pieces, I don’t like letting her out of my sight. As she walks away, every fiber of my being yearns to pull her back into my arms, to hold her close and shield her with my body.
But I have no right to do that—or to follow her upstairs and stand guard over her like I want to. Still, my eyes track her movements, following her as Mrs. Sakharov leads her toward the stairs. Alina looks beyond exhausted, her shoulders hunching defensively, her feet almost shuffling, as if they’re too heavy to lift anymore.
I imagine, from the sound of her voice, that she screamed for help as fiercely as she tried to break free from her bonds, which is why her wrists and throat seem to have taken such a beating. My fierce, relentless zlyuchka. She wasn’t going to give up without a fight, and I love her for her fiery willpower.
I’m dying to know how she escaped her captors, but that can wait. From the way she climbs shakily up the stairs, I would guess she’s weak from dehydration and too many hours of shivering to keep warm.
Viktor’s firm hand grips my shoulder as she makes it halfway up the stairs, and I realize I’ve been watching her too intently—too long.
“Sounds like we should go back to Plastique tonight, my friend. I owe you another whore since you’ve rescued my sister for a second time,” he announces rather loudly, his jovial tone jarring me to my bones and making my teeth clench. “Sounded like you thoroughly enjoyed the one I gave you last night.”
My stomach drops as Alina’s head snaps in our direction, and her eyes find mine with stunning precision. Her lips press into a thin line, and the look of betrayal that fills her eyes punches a hole through my chest.
When she turns meaningfully away, I’m confident that any progress I made with Alina by saving her has just been crushed. She thinks I slept with a prostitute—just another event to add to all the lying and betrayal I’ve been stacking up lately. I suspect that was exactly Viktor’s intent, to drive a wedge between us because he’s not blind about our relationship. Not after today.
Alina’s steps seem to find fresh energy, and she races up the last few steps before vanishing around the corner to her room. Viktor’s hand drops from my shoulder as a smirk curls his lips, and I could kill him when he looks casually away from me like he has no idea what he just did.
Blyat.
I don’t know how I’m going to make this right. Not when she was barely willing to speak to me after everything that happened last night.
I don’t have time to dwell on it, though, as Sergio steps forward to clasp my shoulder—much in the same way Viktor just did. Like father, like son, right?
“It would seem I’m in your debt yet again, Mishka,” he rumbles, his gray eyes flashing. “But we’ll have to find a proper way to repay you—something more significant than a night with a prostitute.” He glances toward his son before returning his eyes to me.
“Thank you, Gospodin,” I say, inclining my head respectfully. “But I assure you, it’s enough of a reward to know your daughter is safe.”
Sergio’s eyes shine with something I can only interpret as something of a paternal pride, and it releases a riot of emotion in my chest. I shouldn’t want this man’s approval—I don’t want it. But I find it painfully hard to hate him when he loves his daughter as much as I do. He, like I, would do anything to protect her. And I can respect him in that regard, at least.
“You boys enjoy your night. Celebrate. We will speak tomorrow about how we are going to smoke out the rest of the snakes who think they can hurt the Sakharov family.” Sergio nods to each of us in turn.
Rasputin and his men return the gesture respectfully. Then, as Sergio departs, heading upstairs to check on his daughter, they get rowdy, pushing and shoving as dirty grins eclipse their faces.
“Hell, man, I could use a few girls after the last twenty-four hours we’ve had,” Lenka says.
Rasputin snorts. “I have my own girls to satisfy me, but I think I can join you fellas for one drink tonight.”
“Yee-haw!” Malik says, shoving Kristof with his elbow.
“You boys start the car. I need a word with Mishka in private.” Viktor juts his chin toward the door, signaling for them to leave.
They go without question, too wrapped up in bragging about what they intend to do with those girls to notice that something might be up. My stomach tightens as I brace for what Viktor has to say to me. I already suspect what it is after the way he was eyeing me and Alina in the car.
He knows something’s going on between us even though he warned me not to get involved with his sister.
Tipping his head, Viktor indicates that I should follow him into one of the empty rooms off the hall. We both step inside the finely decorated study. He closes the door behind me, and when I turn to face him, that same cold gaze laced with suspicion transforms his face.
“What’s up?” I ask, working to keep my tone casual, though my muscles knot with tension.
