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“Wherever we’re going, we could have traveled a lot less expensively than this, Dimitri. First class would have been a luxury. You don’t have to try so hard to impress me, you know.”
It’s no secret that my family has money, but I don’t want him to think I expect to always live that wealthy lifestyle. One day, when I’m on my own, earning my own money, I’ll have to embrace a simpler existence to make ends meet. Which I’m perfectly fine with doing.
I’m startled when he laughs outright, the sound rumbling through his chest. It shoots pleasure straight between my thighs.
“What’s so funny?” I ask, trying not to squirm.
“Why do you keep treating me like I’m an impoverished club owner? Hmm?”
I arch a brow. “Because I’m fairly certain you spend all your money on sports cars and orphans. My father’s a don, I know how men in our world spend pretty much everything they make to sustain their outrageous, enviable lifestyles, but the truth is they’re practically broke. It’s not like you’re a Colombian cartel boss making bank on importing drugs.” I shift in my seat. “All the flowers, the new laptop, the Skye Adair ball gown, now this private jet. It’s too much. You’ve spent a fortune in less than two months. It makes me…uncomfortable.”
He leans back and scrutinizes me. I’m completely serious.
Papa always treated us well growing up, made sure we had a proper education and designer clothing. After all, he wanted us to attract the wealthier dons and their sons. But he’s always been strategic with how he spends his resources. Relatively speaking, he’s frugal.
Of course now that Sophia is married to a billionaire, she can have whatever she wants. I, on the other hand, aim to work for my money. I can make a good life for myself in the event planning industry. Honestly, I prefer a more cautious and realistic approach to wealth management. I can’t stand the idea of bouncing around between plentiful and poor. Stability is what I crave.
When he doesn’t say anything, I sigh. “Just stop spending so much money on me. Give it to the orphanage instead. Add it to their life start funds.”
“Wouldn’t want to spoil them that much, kisa. They already get a hundred grand when they turn eighteen.” He rests his elbows on his knees. “Don’t worry, it’s in a trust until they’re twenty-two so they can’t spend it all in one place, or before they’ve learned some responsibility.”
I stare at him, slack-jawed. “You’re… You’re actually serious. You give them a hundred thousand dollars when they age out of the system?” I’ve never heard of such a thing.
“One hundred percent serious. Do you really think I’d give those children a place to live then toss them out without any means of survival, or opportunity, when they turn eighteen?” He scoffs. “Don’t be ridiculous, only the government does that to this nation’s orphans. And as far as spending my money on you goes, I’ll do as I damn well please. I’m going to spoil you every which way I can, and you’re going to take it like a good girl.” He grins wolfishly.
I blush and look out the jet window. Obviously there’s no sense in arguing with him.
My family’s more than a little disappointed that I’m not spending the holiday with them, but all thoughts of that vanish from my mind when Dimitri welcomes me to his island.
“What do you mean your island?” The jet dropped us off at a private airfield. From there Dimitri drove us to a sprawling ocean-side villa. The blue waters glitter with the early evening sunlight and a slight breeze kicks up, taking the edge off the heat. I ditched my wool coat as soon as we landed.
“I mean my island as in, I own it.” He deposits our suitcases in a bedroom that overlooks an outdoor pool, the view drawing the eye to the beach and ocean beyond. “I bought it a couple of years ago, as an escape from the city. Then I decided I needed a jet because that’s the fastest way to get here.”
Wait. He owns the jet and a private island in the Caribbean?
I gape at him. “Who are you?”
“More than I appear,” he says, his breath tickling my ear. He walks past me, into the main living space and opens a bottle of wine. “Come. Sit with me.”
In a state of disbelief, I do as I’m told. Taking the wine glass he offers, I sit on the sofa and admire the view. I’ve only been on this island for about an hour, yet I already feel my muscles relaxing. There’s something about this environment that makes my mind automatically unwind. It reminds me of vacationing in Italy. The warmth, the sparkling water, the easier pace of life. I love it.
Dimitri sits beside me, his body angled toward mine. “From what my uncle’s told me over the years, our family fled Russia in the early nineteen hundreds during the Russian Revolution. We came here, bringing all of our wealth with us. Or at least as much as we could. My father is the only one who ever returned to our Motherland and that’s how I was born there, but that’s a story for another time.”
He swallows a mouthful of wine. “Anyway, prohibition started soon after and my ancestors saw their way into positions of power and profit in the United States. They opened speakeasies in New York City, which today are the clubs we run, that still offer illegal substances, gambling, fights, and anything else we want. But my family also invests heavily and our net worth is pretty much up there with all the other greedy motherfuckers in this country. Basically, I’m rich, malyshka. Filthy rich.”
Not just rich, but old money wealth. The Kozlov Estate’s mansion now makes more sense. The art, the culture, the lavishness is all because of his family’s history.
I cock my head to one side, teasing. “Are you sure that story’s true? Maybe your ancestors just stole it all.”
He chuckles. “Maybe they did. Or maybe I’m a Russian prince in disguise.”
We both laugh. Though now that he mentions it… Honestly, I could see that. Dimitri is a never-ending source of surprises.
“Are you hungry, kisa?”
I enthusiastically nod. “Are there any restaurants on this island?”
“Not a single one. It’s just us and a couple of caretaker cottages on the other side of the island. We have a cook and a housekeeper. I had the place fully stocked before we got here. Come.” He holds out his hand and I take it, his palm warm and dry in mine.
