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Theresa finally stirred from her deep sleep, and I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. After I got ready for the early morning meeting with Roman, I couldn’t resist lying beside her again and watching her for a few minutes before I had to go. Stalker behavior, even when she was in my own home. I’d admitted to following her the other night, and after rolling her eyes, decided she was glad I was a bit obsessive since she needed my shoulder to cry on and a place to stay. Of course, she’d always have both.
“Morning,” she said, her voice scratchy from sleep. “What time is it?”
“Early, little one. I’m sorry I woke you.”
She shook her head and stretched, reaching to pull me down to her. “Why are you dressed already?”
“I have another meeting, but it won’t take too long.” I hoped. “And then I have a surprise for you when I get back.”
“No, tell me.” She stuck out her lip. “I need to know how to dress.”
“Swimsuit, shorts, sunglasses. That’s all you need to know.”
She sat up, beaming. “Is it the yacht?”
I sighed. “So much for the big surprise.”
“I can’t wait, and I hate surprises anyway.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, holding on longer than I thought necessary. Did she suspect something was wrong?
I untangled myself and kissed her. “I’ll be back in an hour, two at the most.” I hoped.
She promised to be ready, asking if she should pack a picnic. I laughed, assuring her she didn’t need to worry about anything.
“Really, Aleksei?” she asked, eyes serious.
She did suspect something about my meeting, and I hated keeping secrets from her. But I didn’t want her to worry needlessly and, with all the precautions we had set in place, it was unlikely that Roman would raise too much of a stink. At least, I hoped. All I had was hope for now.
“Absolutely,” I assured her.
She dropped back onto the pillows, satisfied enough to let me go. I met my brothers at one of our warehouses down the street from where we told Roman to meet us. The man had no idea what was coming, but he had to know it wasn’t going to be about what kind of cake to have at the wedding. I had a brief stirring of guilt for not speaking with Sofia first and ending the so-called relationship in person, but she’d proven that she couldn’t be trusted not to run to her father, and we needed the element of surprise. We were ready, the Pavlovs were not. It was the only thing that might keep him from declaring war, once he knew we had our bases covered.
Ivan opened a trunk full of weapons that we hadn’t had to use in a while. These were serious guns, and we took turns choosing our favorites, hiding them in our jackets and under our pant legs. I sent my men to stake out one end of the street, and Nikolai and Ivan had their best guards stationed at other strategic spots. It would only take one bullet to take out Roman Pavlov if that needed to happen. Yuri was there, true to his word, and solemnly strapped his own weapons onto his belt. He might have been a lawyer who mostly stayed out of trouble, but he’d been trained right alongside us. Even after our father died, Ivan took all our training seriously. We could all fight, take a punch, and were crack shots with most weapons.
“Have you spoken to Oleg?” I asked Ivan, referring to a cousin of ours who still lived in Russia, but loved Miami weather and had been angling to come over permanently for a long time. He was key to our plan to extricate me from the contract.
“Oleg is amenable,” he said, with all seriousness. He had a family now, same as Nik, same as I would soon. His taste for bloodshed had diminished in the last couple of years.
We entered the dark little bar where we’d arranged to meet Roman and it was clear that he was surprised to see us all, a united front. His face hardened when Ivan and I sat down, while Nikolai and Yuri stood by the door.
“I won’t mince words with you, Roman,” Ivan began. “Due to some unforeseen circumstances, we have to change the terms of the marriage contract.”
“Like hell we will,” he said. “My Sofia has her heart on joining the Morozov family. She’s in love with Aleksei.” The old man turned on me with a vicious snarl. “You’d break my baby girl’s heart?”
I refrained from reminding him that his baby girl was over thirty, but I did tell him that she was definitely not in love with me. “She can still be part of the Morozov family, though,” I said.
“Yes,” Ivan jumped in. “We have a suitable cousin we’re willing to bring over and put in a high position of power. He’s quite interested in meeting Sofia since he’s been wanting to settle down in Miami for some time. We’re not backing out of the contract. We’re only going to change it.”
Roman leaned over, his jowly face shaking with anger. “Are you saying my daughter isn’t good enough for one of the precious Morozov sons?”
Ivan assured him that all members of our family were equal. Roman was spitting mad, and he and Ivan went back and forth for an interminable amount of time. I finally cleared my throat loudly to interrupt.
“Listen to me, Roman, and I say this with all due respect. I will not be marrying Sofia. It’s nothing against her, but it’s just the way it is. If you want to be aligned with us, this is the only way forward. Accept our terms or go back to Russia with nothing.”
Ivan gave me a dark look, but nodded tersely. “That about sums it up.”
Roman’s jaw was clenched so tightly, I thought I heard his teeth grinding to dust. It was obvious he was barely containing his simmering rage. “I will consider your new offer,” he said slowly, glancing up at Yuri and Nikolai who’d remained as still and sturdy as stones during the entire meeting. “I don’t like how this has turned out, though. I feel you’ve disrespected the Pavlovs.”
Ivan stood, and I quickly followed. “We’re sorry you feel that way. It was never our intention; we do respect you, Roman. I know you’ll make the right decision.”
