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“Is the date over?” I asked, fishing my phone out from between the seats. “I don’t want to check anything to do with real life until it is.”
“Go ahead,” he said, taking his from the dashboard. “I have to check mine, too.”
I unlocked my phone to see six missed calls from my mother. There was a text message from her telling me I should get home. With a hiss, I tossed it back between the seats and looked over at Aleksei. His dark stare at his own phone told me he got some similarly unwelcome messages.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Fine,” he grunted, brows furrowed in a scowl.
“I’d hate to see what you look like when you get bad news, then.”
He smiled at me, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How about yours?”
“My mother wants to talk to me. She wants me to come home.”
He started the car but didn’t back out, only searched my face. “You don’t have to talk to her ever again if you don’t want to. And your home is with me, now.” He squeezed my hand, looking more relaxed. “I’ve looked into your family and their organization. It’s nothing I can’t handle. The Morozovs take care of their own, little one, and you’re mine. You’re one of us now.”
I rested my head against the seat, suddenly tired after the long, active day in the sunshine. “Okay, Aleksei,” I said, pretending to believe him and hoping I sounded convincing.
Of course, I knew in my heart it wouldn’t be that easy. I also noticed he was very careful never to mention the Pavlovs, as if never speaking about them could make them go away.
Chapter 18 - Aleksei
I left Theresa tucked away in my apartment with the new oil paints and canvases I had delivered. She wanted to sneak back to her old home to get her art supplies but I didn’t trust her mother not to be lurking around, or have someone lying in wait for her. Since family was everything to her, as it was to me, it was only natural that she’d see her mother again eventually. But the rift was deep and my loyalties lay firmly with Theresa, especially if Giana Lorenzo was still determined to marry her daughter off to anyone other than me.
Knowing she was happily camped out by the wall of windows, painting her heart out in the morning light, and guarded by my best men, made me feel comfortable enough to leave her long enough to call a meeting with my brothers. I had thought I had a little more time to figure out a way to end things diplomatically with the Pavlovs, but the message I got from Sofia yesterday after my perfect day at the beach spurred me to act faster.
“I’m pleased to see you’ve seen reason and took the initiative to call us here now that Roman has returned from Russia,” Ivan said.
We were all seated at one of the VIP booths at Ivan’s empty nightclub, which always seemed so much bigger when it wasn’t teeming with people and the strobe lights weren’t flashing. It was almost too quiet, with a hint of an echo when he spoke in his loud, sure voice. His office in the back was too cramped for all of us big strapping Morozovs to sit comfortably, and I didn’t want to hold the meeting at his house and upset Reina when the shit hit the fan. As the head of our family, he was smiling proudly at me now, but I was about to ruin everything.
“Roman’s back?” Yuri asked, looking up from his phone. He offered me a commiserating glance. “I guess it had to happen eventually.”
“Did you drag me away from my wife and baby to ask me to be your best man?” Nikolai teased.
“No,” I said, much more forcefully than I meant to.
Ivan raised a brow, sensing trouble. Nik merely gave me the finger and leaned back in his seat. Yuri looked like he was ready to run at the first sign of trouble. That first sign was now.
“I’m not marrying Sofia. I’m ending the agreement with the Pavlovs.”
Silence hung heavy around the table until Ivan burst out laughing. He slapped the table, spilling some of his coffee. Nik stared at him, having seen that I was deadly serious, and finally knocked him in the shoulder to get him to stop.
Ivan wiped his eyes, then frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re not joking?”
“I’d kill him if he was joking,” Nikolai said. “Do you know how little sleep I get these days? You couldn’t schedule your life ruination scheme after lunchtime?”
Ivan and I both ignored him. My older brother’s eyes were steely as he glared at me. “I’ll kill you if you’re serious, Aleksei. Tell me this is some foolhardy ruse.”
“It’s not.” I shook my head, taking a breath to remain calm and focused. I thought of Theresa, wearing my t-shirt that fell to her knees, wielding a paintbrush as if she didn’t have a care in the world. I meant to make that reality for her. “I’m marrying someone else. It’s not negotiable. It’s practically a done deal.”
“Bullshit,” Ivan roared. I was used to his outbursts and didn’t flinch. But he had more. “I won’t hear of it. Pavlov won’t hear of it. He wants his daughter to be married to a Morozov. It’s been agreed upon since your birth, Aleksei. End of story.”
“If he wants a Morozov so badly, give him Yuri,” I said rashly.
“Fuck that,” Yuri said, standing up. “I’m going to work.”
“Sit back down,” Ivan ordered. “This is family business, and despite pretending you’re not part of it, you are, and it’s high time you started acting like it.”
