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Elena shimmied into the clothes. The jeans were tight on her ass and the shirt molded to her chest.
I tapped my chin. “Hmm, your breasts look like they might burst out of that shirt, but I’ve seen worse. At least your ass looks like a dream. Did you pay money for that?”
“Only if you count all the money I’ve spent on chocolate desserts.”
“Ah, chocolate,” I gushed. “Every woman’s true first love.”
“I feel like you’re my soulmate,” Elena said as she braided her hair. “Too bad I have to leave.”
We exchanged a smile. I opened the door and peeked into the corridor. “The coast is clear.”
“Really? Even Baran is gone?”
I flushed. “I might have told him that I’m keeping an eye on you. Besides, no one would expect you to make a run for it while being surrounded by all of them. Also, they’re distracted. I think the men are using Viking’s upcoming marriage as an excuse to go through Kristoff’s good vodka.”
Elena’s careful smile disappeared like snow in the spring sun.
“I’m sorry.” She obviously still had feelings for Viking. Why couldn’t anyone see that?
“Don’t be.”
“I know what it’s like to—” I shook my head. “Never mind. Can’t go there. I should never go there.”
“Are you sure you won’t get into trouble for helping me?”
“Denial is key,” I waved her concern away. “As long as they don’t see us leaving this room together, I’ll be fine. Let them prove I busted you out.”
I poked my head out the door and peered down the hall. It was still empty, so I gave a thumbs-up. I pointed to the left, silently telling her where to go, and then took off to the right.
Feeling pretty proud of myself, I returned to my room. The Sokolovs could go to hell. I might have lost an honorary uncle to one of them, and potentially Kristoff to another Bratva bride, but I wasn’t going to let them ruin Elena’s life. Both she and Vicky deserved better than that.
But the gods hadn’t finished punishing me, because suddenly a scream cut through the air. It sounded like Elena.
“Crap.”
22
KRISTOFF
Sokolov’s men were going through my liquor cabinet like any Russian would on their last night on earth. Celebrating Viking’s upcoming wedding was as good an excuse as any to wolf down my vodka. Before the night was over, they’d be as drunk as fish. I, on the other hand, like Sokolov, stayed coherent. We had business to discuss, and I never mixed business with vodka.
“I’ve heard about your new deal with the Bolivians,” Sokolov said as he got comfortable in my study. “You’re doing well.”
I was doing more than well. I was basically the only supplier to the entire country.
“I am.” Like me, Sokolov detested fake modesty.
He scoffed. “’And when Alexander saw the breadth of his domain, he wept, for there were no more worlds to conquer.’”
“Plutarch?” I guessed.
He looked sour. “No. Hans Gruber inDie Hard. Yet another time an American misquoted something.” He gave me a look. “How is the girl doing?”
The last thing I wanted was to talk about Katya. My blood was still pounding in my ears after our encounter in the gym. I’d been so close to bending her over the bench. I had to let her go someday soon. I knew that. If only I wasn’t a selfish son of a bitch with control issues.
“She’s still alive.”
Sprawled on a recliner across from me, Viking gave me a look. He downed another vodka. He didn’t give a crap when we discussed his engagement earlier in the day, yet his ears sharpened at the mention of Katya.
