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Even if I don’t like the idea of training to take over the family business, I’m super happy to be at St. Monarch’s with Aurora. At least I don’t have to watch my mother drink herself to death while my father greedily looks for any way to make money. Honestly, I’m surprised he hasn’t sold me off to the highest bidder.
I’m just worried about my friend, seeing as Misha was as cold as ice toward her. Part of me wants to encourage her to go after the man she wants, but the other part wants to protect her from the potential heartache.
It’s not my place to tell Aurora what to do, though. I can only give her advice and support whatever decision she makes.
Hmm…where should I set up my easel?
I glance around the luxurious suite and decide the massive floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room area would be best. During the day, it will be easy to carry everything out on the balcony, where I’ll have a perfect view of the gardens.
Clearing the decanter filled with whiskey and matching crystal glasses from the glass liquor table, I arrange all my brushes and oil paints on it. I set up my easel with a blank canvas, a smile spreading over my face as excitement rushes through my chest to capture the beauty of St. Monarch’s gardens on canvas.
This place is truly exquisite, the grounds looking like something from a fairytale. We didn’t have much time to explore yesterday because we ran into the bratva enforcers who want us dead.
I’m well aware of the fact that our families have enemies all over the world, but I wasn’t prepared for such a hostile welcome.
I’m not going to lie. Yesterday was information overload for me. The encounter with the bratva enforcers. Discovering my friend is secretly in love with one of them. Meeting Nikolai Vetrov.
Nikolai Vetrov.
Yum.
The man is six feet-something, hot as hell, and just so freaking manly he has my ovaries dancing the rumba at the mere sight of him.
Walking back to the bedroom, I pull another bag closer and unpack some of my clothes.
Nikolai Vetrov. The blood diamond king and cousin to the head of the bratva. Jesus, he’s as powerful as they come.
I wonder why he’s teaching combat training here when he has a massive diamond empire to run.
I hang a dress in the closet, then turn to grab my favorite leather jacket.
If I knew Nikolai Vetrov looked like that, I would’ve put myself in his path much sooner. The man has the broadest shoulders that look like they can carry the weight of the world without any effort.
His black hair is peppered with silver on the sides, which I’m a sucker for. I’ve never likedboysmy own age and always go weak in the knees for alpha men with big-dick energy who know exactly what they want from life and stop at nothing to get it.
Nikolai Vetrov fits that description to a T. Think Johnny Depp. Ian Somerhalder. Or even better…Keanu Reeves.
To me, age is just a number.
Running out of time, I grab the black cargo pants and t-shirt I was told to wear for training and head to the ensuite bathroom.
Nikolai keeps filling my thoughts while I hurry through my morning routine. Last night we had dinner with Director Koslov, who’s in charge of St. Monarch’s, and I was seated next to Nikolai.
I tried flirting with the man again, but he just shut me down with icy indifference. It’s a pity. I’m not looking for a once-in-a-lifetime romance. Just an earth-shattering orgasm will do.That’s not too much to ask for, right?
I let out a chuckle as I step into the ugly as fuck boots. I’m like white on rice when it comes to the latest fashions, and this uniform is killing my vibe.
Once I’m dressed, I tie my hair in a ponytail before scowling at my reflection in the mirror. The combat uniform doesn’t flatter my body.
Ugh.
Still, I’m looking forward to training because of the eye candy that’s Nikolai Vetrov.
Sure, I’m worried about making a total ass of myself in front of the man, but maybe if I play up the damsel in distress act, he’ll be open to giving me private lessons. The key word being ‘private.’
Yeah, I’m fully aware of the fact that the man is one of my family’s enemies, but I’m totally open to a steamy hate-fuck session.
Some might call me a slut, but I like to think of myself as sexually confident. The last thing I’m going to do is wait for a man to grow a set of balls and approach me. If I see something I like, I go after it.
