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He pulls me in for a bear hug, lifting me off my feet with little effort as his muscular arms squeeze tight. “A good surprise?” he asks, releasing me.
“Of course. I always love seeing you.” I mean it, and at the same time, for once, I’m reluctant to invite him into my apartment.
My brother is exceedingly intimidating, and based on the way he responded to Lorenzo Marchetti when I met the mob boss before my freshman year at Rosehill, I suspect he might try some territorial display that could make the twins uncomfortable. As subtly as I can, I pull the door closed behind me so we can speak in the hall.
But nothing gets by my perceptive big brother as Ilya raises an eyebrow pointedly. “Bianka, what’s going on?”
“Hmm? Oh, nothing. I just have a few friends over, is all.” My cheeks flame, giving away my discomfort and making my false innocence painfully apparent.
Suspicion narrows my brother’s eyes. “Wonderful. It’s been a long time since I’ve met any of your friends. I’m sure they won’t mind.”
My heart skips a beat as he reaches past me, pushing open the door and entering my apartment before I have time to object. I can see the storm brewing in Ilya’s expression when his eyes land on Cassio and Lucca.Shit.And this is when my big brother intimidates the boys and has them running with their tails between their legs before Ellie even has an opportunity to meet Lucca. I’m sure they’ll never want to come back to my place again.
Both twins rise politely from their seats as I rush to keep up with Ilya, not wanting him to take charge of the situation before I can try and smooth things over a little bit.
“Ilya, I think you’ve met Lucca and Cassio Marchetti before, haven’t you? Lucca, Cassio, this is my older brother, Ilya Popov.” I’m sweating already, and I pray my brother doesn’t try to break one of their hands as he offers to shake them.
“Pleasure,” he says curtly. I don’t know if it’s just my overactive imagination or if Ilya’s Russian accent suddenly sounds much more formidable than usual.
Normally, I adore my brother’s accent and envy the heritage my father passed on to him, but not me. Right now, though, I wish he would sound a little less like some KGB operative who’s ready to start removing fingernails–or entire digits.
Thankfully, however, Lucca and Cassio both seem perfectly at ease as they give my brother’s hand a firm shake and nod politely. Maybe they’re more accustomed to meeting men like Ilya, what with their family having such strong ties to illicit activities. Still, I find I can barely breathe as an awkward silence settles over the room for a moment.
Then Ilya forces a painful-looking smile. “If you gentlemen will excuse us, I need to have a word with my sister. In private.” He casts a sharp look my way, and a shiver runs down my spine.
Yep, he’s pissed.At least he’s being nice to the twins, but I suspect I’m about to get an earful.
“Of course. Take your time,” Cassio says, his eyes flicking to meet mine as if to ensure I’m okay with that.
I give him a quick nod as embarrassment pools in my cheeks and my eyes drop to the floor. Then my brother’s strong hand wraps around my elbow, and he all but drags me toward the second bedroom that I’ve decorated as an office. I don’t dare look behind me as I follow Ilya.
My temper rises as I step inside the room, and he closes the door behind us. How mortifying. To have my big brother show up unannounced and try to parent me in my own apartment while the boy I like just sits in the other room. Suddenly, I want to kill my brother.
“What’s your deal?” I demand, yanking my arm from his grasp.
“What’s my deal? What are you thinking, having Lorenzo Marchetti’s sons in your living room? Do you have any idea what kind of fire you’re playing with?”
I cross my arms defensively, injured by my brother’s accusing tone. He told me to keep my head down and behave myself, and I’ve done just that, knowing it stresses him out to have me going to school somewhere he can’t protect me as easily. But now he sounds like I brought Cassio and Lucca here just for some kind of thrill. “It’s fine. They’re nice–”
“Are you doing this to get my attention or something? Because messing with the Marchetti family is dangerous, Bianka–”
“Not everything is about you, egghead,” I snap, dropping my arms in disbelief. “I didn’t seek them out and plot to befriend them just to piss you off or anything. They took an elective theater class last semester that I happened to be in. It turns out they’re pretty cool–certainly entertaining.”
The corner of my mouth twitches as an image of Cassio lowering the curtain every time the lead star in last semester’s musical started their monologue pops into my mind unexpectedly. Leanna wasso pissed.
I force my lips straight as I redirect my mind to the conversation at hand. “We’ve hung out a few times this summer. It’s no big deal. I’m not going toignorethem or anything because their last name happens to be Marchetti.”
The tendon in Ilya’s jaw pops, warning me that my brother might just lose his temper. It’s definitely a Popov trait, the fiery tempers and our inability to control our emotions.
“You need to be more careful,” he grinds out. “You should recognize you’re in the Marchettis’ territory and that they have the power here. You could be putting yourself in a vulnerable position, and I might not be able to protect you from it.”
My disbelief bursts from me in a bout of laughter. “Ilya, you need to calm down. Take a breath. Relax. Nothing’s going to happen, okay? Lucca and Cassio are just college kids like me, not crazy mafia bosses like you.”
Ilya’s jaw works harder, and I wonder how he hasn’t cracked a tooth at this point. His hands ball into fists, and the fire in his eyes tells me we’re as close to a proper sibling fight as we’ve ever been.
I don’t usually argue with him like this, but really, he’s being ridiculous. He hasn’t even gotten to know Lucca and Cassio. Yeah, they might be Marchettis, but they are the farthest thing from threatening I can think of.
“You’re infuriating sometimes,” Ilya hisses. “Do you know that?”
