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His lips flatten in frustration, and I hate that my jab landed. I wanted him to deny it. Or be shocked by the accusation.
Instead, he looks coolly resigned.
I knew I was in trouble when I woke up to Timofey hovering over my bed like the Grim fucking Reaper. But this…this is different. I don’t just need to worry about Timofey; I need to worry about everyone in his orbit, too.
Timofey closes the distance between us, looking down his nose at me. I’ve never felt smaller in my entire life. Right now, it feels like he could squash me under his heel and that would be the end of me.
Still, I try to stand tall and meet his eyes. If I’m going down, I’m going down hard.
“No, I won’t have a hitman kill you,” Timofey promises, his lips moving carefully around each word. “I’ll do it myself.”
15
PIPER
Before I can say anything else, someone clears their throat from the hallway.
I snap my eyes to the sound, but Timofey doesn’t move.
An older man with graying hair and a white goatee stands in the mouth of the hallway. He doesn’t look at me, which feels like a conscious choice. His eyes stayed pinned on Timofey’s back.
“Everyone is waiting for you,” the man says. “Can we get the meeting started?”
“I’m conducting orientation with a new employee,” Timofey replies with a sarcastic tint in his voice.
The man sighs. I don’t know Timofey well, but he doesn’t stand for disrespect. I expect him to whip around and lay into the man who dared disturb him. Instead, he turns and holds out a hand in my direction to coax me forward.
“This is Piper Quinn.”
Finally, the older man meets my eyes, though it looks very much against his will. “Welcome.”
“Piper,” Timofey continues, gesturing to the man now, “this is my father, Sergey.”
“Your—You two are—” I look from the older man to Timofey, searching for some resemblance, but there isn’t any. Sergey is a good six inches shorter than Timofey. Where Timofey is broad-shouldered with a trim waist, Sergey’s mass is consolidated in his bottom half. His legs are thick like tree trunks. Sergey is pale with dark blonde hair where it hasn’t already shifted gray, while Timofey is a walking, talking shadow with dark hair and an olive complexion.
“Viktorov Industries is a family business. Didn’t you know?” he asks. “I thought you received a folder with all the necessary information.”
The urge to flip him off is strong, but I resist.
Barely.
“I guess I have a lot to learn about how things work around here,” I say through gritted teeth.
Timofey waves his father on. “Lead the way. We’ll follow. Piper should meet the whole family.”
Sergey hesitates. “It’s a full house today. Might be overwhelming for her.”
“She’s already met Rodion. It can’t get much worse.”
The two men share a silent moment that almost makes me feel bad for Rodion. He clearly fucked up by talking to me, and Timofey doesn’t seem like the forgiving type.
In the end, their silent conversation ends with—shocker—Timofey getting his way.
He stays half a step ahead of me the entire walk down the hallway, but I can feel his attention on me. He doesn’t need to see me to know where I am. I’m intensely aware that if I try to slip away, he’ll snatch me up and drag me with him.
We pass by his office en route. It’s hard to reconcile that, just yesterday, I was standing in front of his desk, officially meeting him for the first time.
A lot can happen in twenty-four hours.
