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Alexei chuckled. “You must be the only person in New York hoping to hurry her customer along so she can get back to scrubbing pots and pans.”
Veronica just arched an eyebrow at him. “It’s called a work ethic. Maybe if you didn’t clown around all day, you’d know what the term meant.”
Alexei grabbed his chest again, this time stumbling backwards. “I’m wounded, mademoiselle. Wounded by your assessment of my character.” It was fine if she thought him a lay-about. Alexei knew the only one who worked harder in the organization was Bo, and half of the weight of Alexei’s job was trying to hold his own father in check to keep from getting them all on the Feds radar with his outdated schemes and—
Alexei’s phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Speak of the devil.
Alexei held out one finger towards Veronica. “Just a quick second and I’ll be right back. I have to take this.”
Without waiting for her reply, he strode away from the counter to the corner of the café and lifted the phone to his ear.
“What’s up, Papa?” Yes, he used the same honorific as everyone else in the organization used for his own father, but he liked to think the endearment meant something different to his father coming from his lips.
“I’m testing Nicholas,” Papa Dimitri’s crisp voice rang across the phone.
Shit.
Alexei lifted one hand to his forehead and turned his back to the counter, facing the wall. “Did he do something to raise suspicion?”
“I’m testing him because no man can be trusted until his loyalty is tested.”
Alexei hunched into himself. Not this bullshit again. “But is now the right time?” Alexei asked, his mind spinning for any way to talk his father out of it. “We’re making great money, the club is bringing in three times as much since we started the new—”
Alexei realized his mistake only as his father’s raised voice came yelling through the phone, “Maybe I should test you again!”
“No, Papa, no, I—” Alexei’s mind flooded with visceral panic even at the words. The memories of the last time Papa had decided to give him a test still kept him awake at night.
“This is not a fucking discussion,” his father continued too loudly through the phone, so loud that Alexei pulled it back from his ear an inch. He could still hear his father’s rant with perfect clarity. “Your Pakhan is giving you information on a soldier. Now watch and see if he is loyal or traitorous. If he or his wife attempt to run, you stop them and hold them until I return home.”
“And if they don’t run?” Alexei said into the phone. “If they pass your test?”
“Then he has passed and I take his wife to bed for a night as agreed.”
Alexei’s eyes closed. Son of a fucking—
“Got it,” he said, his voice cool and collected.
“You better fucking have.”
The other end of the line went dead.
Alexei breathed in, and then out. In, and then out. Then twice more.
Then he put his phone in his pocket, stood up straight, and turned around.
Veronica was staring at him. “Daddy issues?” she asked.
He wasn’t in the mood. He stalked out the front door of the shop, whisper-shouting under his breath, “FUCK.”
Chapter 23
Nicholas
Nicholas came home but paused before putting his key in the lock. Sloane would be on the other side, waiting for him with a smile on her face like always. After their rocky start, they’d gotten to such a good place.
She was actually excited to see him when he got home these days. It was— He dragged a hand harshly down his face. Growing up, the life he’d had—
A wife like her was a dream he never really thought was for a guy like him. She was sweet. Soft. Kind. Good.
Too good for a sonofabitch like him. She deserved better. She always had.
Especially now.
Tomorrow Dimitri came home from his trip.
Nicholas’s teeth gritted and he slammed his keycard against the lock and then pushed through the door.
Just like he’d expected, Sloane was in the kitchen. Better yet, she was pulling something out of the stove, bent over, ass out towards him. In those damn leggings. She thought they were “comfortable.” All they did was contour to her curves in a way that made Nicholas want to rip them off her and sink balls deep every time she pranced around the apartment in the damn things, right now included.
Especially now.
She spun around and smiled.
“Oh yay, great timing,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him and glowing with that smile of hers that lit up the damn room. “The roast is perfect. I’ve been slow-cooking it all afternoon. Do you smell that?” She breathed in and the look of bliss that hit her face was usually the one that he put there.
