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“I will only use it once in a while and only when we’re alone, though.”
“It’s a deal.” I don’t bother arguing. The way I see it, I’m winning here.
“There’s my daughter now,” I hear my father say. I lift my head, surprised we made it down the stairs so quickly. He is standing there with two other men. They both are younger than my father, but they aren’t smiling like him. They’re staring at me, and I feel like I’m bothering them. I immediately lower my gaze. For the millionth time tonight, I wish Zoe was with me.
CHAPTER3
Niko
My gaze moves to the stairs as I watch the girl in the blue dress descend. She has long black hair that rests against her back in flowing waves. She looks over at her father and smiles, her cheeks turning pink as she takes in the rest of us. I notice she quietly reaches out to her bodyguard’s hand and squeezes tightly. I doubt she even realizes she’s doing it. Victorio leans down and whispers something to her and she smiles with a quiet laugh.
When you grow up in a state run home and see the shit life deals daily, you don’t see innocence. This girl? There’s an innocence about her, a kindness that hasn’t been killed out by the cruel reality of life.
“There’s my daughter. Emilia, sweetheart, come down here and let me introduce you,” Maxwell says. She pastes a smile on her face and perhaps she’s trying to appear natural, but I can tell it’s forced. It’s clear this isn’t what she’d like to be doing. I know nothing about young girls, but I imagine business dinners aren’t high up on the totem pole for them.
“Hello, Father,” she murmurs, her voice quiet but full of what I imagine is love and respect. I’m not familiar with the emotion, but it’s clear to tell she cares deeply for him. I watch as she steps closer to him, placing a kiss on his cheek. He wraps his arm around her back to rest on her shoulder, tucking her in closely to his side. I don’t quite understand how they interact with one another. It all seems so foreign to me.Does she not know what he does on a daily basis and how ruthless he can be? Is she aware of how much blood is on her father’s hands?
Hell, Maxwell Korslova is the best man I’ve ever met, but I’ve not seen this side of him. It’s completely unfamiliar to me and extremely interesting. There’s a gentleness in the way he handles Emilia. I can’t seem to stop watching.
“You remember Mr. DeLuca.”
“I do. It’s good to see you again, sir.”
“You, too, Emilia. You’re growing up and I bet breaking all the boys’ hearts. How old are you now?”
She smiles, blushing with his words. “I’m fourteen.”
“Max, my friend, your worries are just beginning,” DeLuca says.
“Don’t I know it,” Maxwell responds, laughing. “Emilia, this is Nikolai Petrova.”
The young girl looks at me and the strangest thing hits me. Her eyes are blue. It’s not a normal blue either. They are like a Prussian blue, almost electric in color and so bright it’s startling. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.
“Hello, Mr. Petrova. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Call me Niko.”
“Niko,” she says so softly that I have to strain to hear her. She moistens her lips by rubbing them together. When she gets older, she’s going to be phenomenal. It almost makes me sad that I’m not younger…
We walk into the dining room together. I find myself sitting with little Emilia on my right and DeLuca at the head of the table. His men are standing against the wall, legs spread, and ready to defend their boss. Victorio is standing behind Emilia. I catch her smiling at him every once in a while. I can’t explain why, but it’s upsetting. I think I should bring up the fact that little Emilia obviously has a schoolgirl crush on her bodyguard. Maxwell needs to be aware of it.
Dinner is dry and conversation is general. I turn to look at Emilia and try to engage her here and there, but hell, I don’t know shit about kids. I never got to enjoy being one and I haven’t been around any either.
“Do you like school, Emilia?”
I wince because my voice sounds rough and on the verge of being annoyed. I didn’t mean for it to come out that way, but it does just the same. I know the girl notices it when she jumps slightly, causing the water in her glass to dance and jostle precariously against the rim.
“It’s okay. Kind of boring. Thankfully, Zoe is there with me. She makes it bearable.”
“Who is Zoe?”
“She’s my best friend,” she explains.
“Those are good to have,” I mutter lamely.
“Do you have one, too?”
I frown. “A best friend?” She nods yes. “My lawyer.”
