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I shut down the thought as quickly as it appeared.
“What did he say?”
“Hmm?” For a few seconds, it looks like my proximity is affecting Nick the same way his is affecting me.
“Leo,” I clarify. “What did he say when you said yes?”
“He said he’s okay with me being his dad.”
My eyes refocus on his expression. “That’s it?”
“He had more questions about the warehouse. He wanted to see all the equipment. Watch some of the matches. Watch me.” Nick smiles.
“You fought?” I pull back a little so I can see him better. Nothing appears out of place.
His grin widens, realizing what I’m looking for. “Roman couldn’t land a single hit.”
“Arrogance isn’t attractive,” I tell him. But it’s a lie. It looks really, really good on Nick. “Maybe he was taking it easy on you.”
His smirk gains a sinister edge. “He wasn’t.”
Those two words are suffused with something different.
For the first time, I can see it. I can picture Nick as aPakhan, barking orders that are immediately followed. It should elicit fear. Instead, I’m experiencing something that feels more like fascination.
“Good night, Lyla.”
Without another word, Nick turns and walks away.
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
NICK
Alex calls while I’m wrapping up a meeting at Landing. It’s one of the premier clubs in Moscow and one of many legitimate businesses I own in the city. Sergei, the manager here, isn’t involved in the uglier side of my entrepreneurship. But he’s well aware of it. Every meeting we have together is spent with him looking likely to piss his pants. A healthy working relationship, in other words. I’m not worried he’ll skim off the top or cause other problems. He’s neither stupid nor incompetent.
I give his hand a tight warning squeeze anyway before buttoning up my coat and turning to leave.
I answer Alex’s call once I’m downstairs.
Landing is divided into multiple levels, each catering to a certain audience. The ground floor is taken up by a long bar and a dance floor with a DJ booth tucked in the far corner and leather VIP booths lining the wall across from the bar. Uniformed servers glance at me, then quickly away as the call connects.
“How are they?” Alex doesn’t even bother with a simple pleasantry.
“Fine,” I say, ignoring one of the female bartenders as she not-so-subtly attempts to approach me.
She scurries away from my immediate dismissal, eyes downcast and cheeks flushed. My response is a reflex that doesn’t really register until a waitress smiles as I pass her.
I’ve never fucked a member of my staff. But I’ve considered the idea. Indulged their flirting. It’s disconcerting to realize I’m blowing past beautiful women without giving them a second glance—because of a woman I haven’t slept with in nine years.
“Hello?”
“What?” I ask, realizing I missed whatever Alex was saying.
He sighs. “Fatherhood has made you even less verbose. I didn’t think that was possible.”
Chilly air ruffles my hair as I step outside. Grigoriy and Roman are waiting. I give them a quick nod, letting them know the meeting went without issue, before climbing into my car and zipping down the busy street. No one honks as I cut them off. You can’t afford a vehicle this expensive and be someone it’s smart to cross.
“Is there a problem?” I ask Alex as I turn onto the familiar road that leads back to the estate.
