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“Right. What does it mean?”
Nick hesitates before answering. “Grandson. It means grandson.”
I swallow. “Oh.”
We pull up outside a stone house a few minutes later. It’s not as large as Nick’s estate, but still is impressive. Nick steps out of the car first. Uniformed men are already swarming the car, literally falling over themselves in an effort to be the one assisting Nick.
I’d categorize Nick as confident, but not cocky. I’m not sure how his ego isn’t the size of Russia though, seeing the reverence on the faces of a dozen men. Maybe it’s part of the traditional respect for thePakhan. And I’m biased. But I think it’s mostly Nick. The way he carries himself that makes him someone you want to be around.
He mostly ignores the men, tossing the keys to one guy with a flurry of Russian I assume is a warning not to damage the car. But then he’s by my side, resting a hand on my lower back. Somehow, that slight touch is enough to warm my whole body despite the freezing temperatures.
“Too bad no one noticed you’re here yet,” I comment as we walk toward the front door.
The sound of Nick’s chuckle trails behind as I gain confidence in my heels with each step. The smooth velvet rubs against my skin as I walk, whispering like a lover’s caress.
The front door opens as we approach, as if on cue. Music and voices spill out.
“Stay close to me.”
I glance up at Nick. There’s no trace of amusement in his expression now. I’m looking at a different version of him, a harsher and crueler version than the man who trails kisses across my skin and whispers dirty words. Who teaches Leo card games and plays with him in the park.
He guides me through the front door into what is essentially a ballroom. A packed ballroom, crowded with men in tuxedos and women draped with jewels to accompany their fancy dresses.
Not a single person misses Nick’s entrance.
There’s an audible hush that falls, even mirrored by the live music being played in the corner. It feels like there’s an invisible spotlight trained on us, hot and bright.
I stay close to his side, just as Nick requested. I can tell every time he introduces or mentions me. The eyes of whoever he’s talking to will dart my way, assessing and often confused. Mixing in with the lustful expressions of the women and the awed, jealous looks from the men.
All the conversation is in Russian. I entertain myself by people-watching as the rapid flow of dialogue passes by like a river I can’t dam, sipping on glasses of the champagne being passed around.
Eventually, I excuse myself to use the restroom. It’s off the ballroom, easy to access and just as ostentatious. Nothing is dark and old. The bathroom is all marble and cream-colored tile, shined to a blinding brightness.
I’m washing my hands when a petite blonde woman sweeps into the restroom. I study her in the mirror. The top of her head barely reaches my shoulder. Everything about her is delicate and doll-like, down to the sleek updo and silk gown. Rather than walk into one of the stalls like I’m expecting, she simply strolls past them, checking each door to make sure it’s unlocked and empty.
Apprehension uncurls in my stomach as I continue watching her in the mirror. I shut off the tap and dry my hands on one of the fancy towels.
She turns and approaches me slowly, like you would a wounded animal. Then whispers something so softly, I doubt I would understand it even if it were English.
I raise and drop a shoulder. “I don’t understand.”
The blonde takes a deep breath. Casts an anxious look at the door. “Is he cruel?” she asks, hardly louder than before. I barely catch the words before they drift away like leaves dancing in the wind.
I stare at her, confused. “Cruel? Who?”
“Nikolaj Morozov. My father means to marry us, and the tales I’ve heard…” Her voice trails off, as if she’s too terrified to continue.
I’m horrified for another reason altogether.
Because I’m looking at this girl—this girl who I now realize is the nineteen-year-old Nick mentioned—who looks scared and alone and desperate, and I’mjealous.
I’m envious.
The fate she’s so scared of? Marrying Nick?
It’s what I want for myself and will never have. I’m not part of this world, and I don’t want to be.
But Idowant Nick.
