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“Adrik.” My father scolds me in front of everyone, and I suck another puff to prove a point. I can take another punch now that I have this between my teeth, and he does look as if he’s gearing up to do it, but his phone rings before he has a chance.
“Nikolai.” He answers and steps through the front doors. The boys follow him, and I do the same. We walk to the cars parked in front of The Magdalin, loading in as the boss quietly speaks on the phone. After twenty minutes of driving, he hangs up and looks over at me, slapping the back of my head with his hand.
“What the fuck?” I grit.
“Sit up straight and stop fucking smoking this in the hotel.” He rips the cigarette out of my hand and tosses it out the window before I have a chance to fight back. I bite my bottom lip so as not to punch the pleased look off his face and fix my eyes out the window for the rest of the drive.
When we arrive, I’m wondering why we’re parking in front of some bookstore in the middle of nowhere until I see the classic black SUVs that the San Giovanni’s drive. With a sigh, I jump out of the car and walk with a few of the boys up the steps to the front door.
“Ah, Adrik.” One of the guys guarding the door chides.
“Sup, Lancaster.” I know his face well, gotten into a few scuffles with him here and there. Mostly we stay out of each other's way, but he’s always been a prick.
“Here for Espie?” His tone is mocking, but I hold myself back.
“Seems like it.” I look past him as my father catches up to us and taps his cane on the ground.
“Well, are you going to open up?” He asks Lancaster, who nudges his buddy, and they part ways, opening the door for us to step inside.
“Welcome!” Vincenzo San Giovanni greets us at the door, kissing both of my cheeks and my father’s like our families are suddenly long-time friends. I clear my throat and step inside the rest of the way as they begin to chat, looking around at the space. It’s a wild looking bookstore, completely chaotic. A place like this has got to have some incredible history books just waiting to be cracked open.
I’m a bit of a history buff. Well, I used to be anyway. Before I became the eldest by default, I intended to go into Archeology. Study abroad, meet someone easy to talk to, and settle down somewhere far away from my family. But, now that I’m next in line, I haven’t had much time for lofty ideals such as those. Now my life belongs to the Bratva, my miserable life.
“Esperanza!” Vincenzo calls, and it’s quiet for a moment until the faint sound of footsteps grows louder. Out from between the bookshelves she eventually steps, and I have to say, I’m taken off guard by her beauty. She’s just as astounding visually as anyone has ever said, probably more so– definitely more so. Long dark hair, slightly warm skin, freckles across her small, sloped nose, and bright-green eyes that look like they know something I never will.
She drops her book upon seeing me, and it tumbles across the floor, colliding with my boot. I stop it with my foot, pressing it to the ground with my sole. Her glowing eyes flicker between me and her brother, and I think this is as much of a surprise to her as it was to me a few hours ago.
I smirk at her, and she looks down at my foot in response, clearly perturbed by my boot on her book. I bend down and pick it up, making my way to her. She’s just gawking at me like I’m the worst thing she’s ever laid eyes on, and I’m not trying to come off as a dick, but I know I’m better looking than anyone she’s ever been courted by. So, there really isn’t a reason for her glaring. In fact, it’s kinda pissing me off a little.
“You dropped this.” I smile, practically oozing with charm that she doesn’t seem remotely affected by.
“You stepped on it.” She shoots back, and I’m taken off guard by her lack of returned affection.
“I think the phrase you were looking for wasthank you.” She scoffs at me. Actually scoffs, like I’m some creep flirting with her at a grocery store or something. Her eyes shift focus to Vince, and he introduces my father. Before he can do the same to me, I do it for him, sticking out my hand.
“Adrik Mikhailov, next in line to take over the Bratva.” She shakes my hand immediately, so I think maybe I’ve impressed her a little. But then she whips her hand out of mine, and I second guess myself.
We run through my newest woes again, catching her up to speed, but this time Vince explains what’s going on, and I mostly zone it out, except for getting in a dig at Espie. That’s what she likes to be called. I’ll remember that, but only so I can call her Esperanza instead. I like the look in her eyes when I tease her, possibly a little too much for someone who is so clearly fucked, having to marry the woman.
The rest of the chat I zone out until I hear that our date is starting, and I make a beeline for the history section. Might as well at this point. I find this impressive one, massive, looks about a hundred years old. I crack it open and take in the scent of the stale pages as I flip through.
Espie’s eyes are on me after a minute, and I can tell the look in them is not at all impressed by me.Well, Espie, I’m not too impressed by you either. Considering you seem to hate me, and we’ve barely spoken to one another.I don’t say that, though.
“Try not to look so thrilled about being engaged to me.” I say sarcastically, flipping to the next page with an old map of South America.
“Sorry.” She mumbles and it surprises me.
“You’re sorry?” Is she really this much of a mafia firstborn daughter that she apologizes to people for no reason at all?
“Clearly, I’m trying to make this shitty situation a little more tolerable. But now I think that would require you to be someone who’s tolerable to be around, not just nice to look at.” I try not to let my eyes bug out at her demeaning tone, but mostly I catch her weirdly placed compliment and get a surge of accomplishment.
“So, you think I’m attractive?”
“No.” She lifts her chin, cheeks growing a bit pink.
“That’s what you just said— that I’m nice to look at.” I assert, nearing her.
“I just meant—“ I’m inches from her now, looking down at her flustered expression, and then she notices my book. “Why are you reading that?”
