Page 85 of Nemesis

Are they seriously arguing over who gets to make me breakfast?

What is happening?

“I’m not picky,” I say, responding to the question I was asked before it becomes buried by the growing spat.

The man nods and turns, flicking on one of the stove burners.

“You’re Ben, right?” I ask him, trying to pin names to faces.

“Or more affectionately known as Cunt,” Kirill says from the other side of the kitchen island. I stifle my laugh.

“You’d better shut the fuck up, or I’ll clear my schedule to commandeer all of your shipments, little brother.” He cracks an egg into the pan and turns back to me. “That’s right! I’m Ben, your eldest and favorite cousin.”

This time, my giggle claws its way free immediately. The sound feels strange. When was the last time I laughed?

“Sure, if you can withstand the massive stick lodged up his ass. I’m Kirill,” the other says with a crooked smile. He has the lightest hair of the group; streaked brown strands bordering on dirty blond. I try to memorize the name and face, filing the information away.

“I’m Nik,” the mediator says, stepping forward. His dark hair and thick mustache set him apart from the other men, more similar to my father’s coloring than his own.

The egg sizzles in the pan, filling the kitchen with the delicious scent and making my stomach rumble.

Finally, the last man in the room speaks, stepping out from the corner he’d been quietly leaning against as he witnessed the dispute.

“Maksim,” he offers softly, completely at odds with his massive frame.

“Hi,” I wave awkwardly. “I’m Octavia.”

Kirill laughs by my side. “Oh, we know. You made quite an entrance the other day, little cuz. First, walking in with that Morozov psycho leashed like a dog, and then threatening to shoot us, all in the span of ten minutes.”

Oh. Right. I kinda forgot about that part.

“Sorry about that,” I murmur, hiding my face beneath the rim of my coffee cup and taking a generous sip.

“Oh, please. That was the most excitement we’ve had in months. I can’t wait to see what you do to our Thanksgiving dinner. We’re glad to finally see you up and out of bed.”

“Dad said you almost set Uncle Sasha’s safehouse on fire, too,” Nik says with an easy grin. “God, what I would’ve given to see that in action.”

“I heard you’re some famous ballerina,” Ben adds, flipping the egg with ease.

My eyes leap back and forth, trying to keep up with so much more social interaction than I’m used to maintaining. I’ve spent the past two weeks stuck in some frozen intermediary state. I knew the time was passing, but it felt like it was moving differently.

“Stop. You’re overwhelming her,” Maksim cuts in from his corner, quiet gaze focused on me.

“No, it’s okay, I’m just not used to the whole family-thing yet, I guess.” I don’t want them to feel as though they need to tread carefully around me. It’s bad enough they all witnessed so many of my worst moments. “Besides, you all seem to know so much about me, and I’m still struggling to remember your names. It’s probably going to take a bit to adapt.”

“Don’t worry,” Nik says, placing his hand on my arm. “You’ll have plenty of time to get to know everyone in this crazy family of ours. First thing you gotta know about the Siderovs is that we’re a close bunch. Sure, we fight like cats and dogs, but the moment shit hits the fan, absolutely nothing can tear us apart.”

I look up into his clear, hazel gaze as his words settle onto my skin, desperately trying to pretend the sense of belonging he’s casually offering isn’t the only thing I’ve wished for my entire life.

“How about I teach you some knife skills, cousin?” Kirill grins. “Getting to know a new person is much more fun with sharp blades.”

“Christ, you’re such a psycho,” Ben mutters from the stove.

“Actually, I’d like that,” I respond, flashing my first smile in a long time. Getting to know my cousin and learning self-defense? Sounds like a win to me. Maybe I’ll finally learn how to take down Vas and earn a day off from training.

“And I’ll take you to our gun range, since you seem to enjoy shooting things,” Nik says.

I’m never going to live down my entrance.