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Kristina never said it in so many words, but she clearly blamed me and my position in the Bratva for her mother’s unhappiness and the ultimate reason she left. Never mind that the wretched woman never acknowledged Kristina again or tried to contact her after she took off. If she hadn’t given me my daughter, I would have regretted every minute with her.
It would have taken very little evidence to show Kristina the truth about her mother and all her perfidy, but I held my tongue. I would have put up with the constant cheating, the stealing, and the lies if only she’d been a good mother. But she wasn’t. She’d been cold and resentful of Kristina and probably would have ended up doing a great deal of damage to her self-esteem if she’d stuck around.
So, I never said a word against her, even though it put all the blame squarely on me. It didn’t matter as long as my little girl could cling to the illusion that she had a mother who loved her.
Okay, so maybe I babied her a little.
I settled in at a corner table with my espresso to people-watch in the bustling city I hadn’t been to in far too long. The last time I saw Kristina was Christmas the year before when I dragged her back to Moscow under the threat of cutting off her rent here. Despite splitting my time between Moscow and the glittering jewel of Miami Beach, she’d only visited me there once, and that was in passing while on location for some modeling job. It was time to put my foot down, set a timeline for her to fulfill her American dreams, and then return to reality.
But the minute I saw her, I’d cave and probably buy her a car or something equally foolish, which was why I was whiling away my precious vacation time in a coffee shop before knocking on her door.
Looking around at the quirky decor, a glossy flash of red hair caught my eye. Moving my gaze downward, that shock of long, silky auburn hair flowed down a curvy backside. Black jeans molded to lush hips and an ass that made my hands twitch in anticipation of cupping each cheek. I leaned forward to get a better view of this beauty, hoping she’d sit close enough to me that I could easily strike up a conversation. Hell, I’d move tables if I had to.
I was on vacation, after all. Why not have a little fun of my own in between visits with Kristina?
My phone buzzed furiously, drawing my attention down long enough to see it was my old friend Oleg Morozov. One could say he was a rival—we often butted heads over whose territory was who’s both in Moscow and Miami, but his daughter and mine had been the best of friends and thick as thieves since they met in their last year of elementary school.
Their friendship had forced two families together that might have destroyed one another if there wasn’t that common ground. Oleg was as much of a sucker for his kids as I was, and over the years, he and I had become quite chummy with each other. Commiserating over vodka shots about our children’s mishaps over the last fourteen years created a solid bond between us.
As I answered, my gaze trailed back to the gorgeous redhead. I barely heard Oleg’s greeting when she turned around. Then everything about her except the long red hair was familiar. Too familiar. The bright, intelligent green eyes, high cheekbones, and full lips currently covered in too much dark lipstick for my taste but did nothing to mar their sensuous outline. Her faded black t-shirt was covered by a black leather vest she’d cinched in to accentuate her very ample breasts.
I jerked my eyes back up, and my jaw nearly hit the speckled Formica table top because the last person I expected to see was Evelina Morozov—Kristina’s best friend and Oleg’s daughter. I quickly turned so she wouldn’t see me as she left with her order.
I probably shouldn’t have been so shocked. The two girls were always inseparable, and I was only a block from Kristina’s apartment. As Evelina left with her order, I was unable to keep from watching the sway of those hips as she sauntered out.
She’d always been a beautiful girl. I’d had to step way back on more than one occasion to keep things appropriate. I hadn’t seen her in two years, and the woman I couldn’t tear my eyes from now was all grown up, with a body that wouldn’t stop.
Holy shit, what was I thinking? With her father on the phone, no less. I should have been horsewhipped. If she had seen me, there was no doubt she’d have recognized what I’d been thinking since I hadn’t cooled off from all the plans I’d been building up in my mind after I worked my charms on her. When I still thought she was a sexy stranger, that was. Not Oleg’s daughter.
“What’s up, Oleg?” I asked, unaccountably still shaken by the strength of my feelings. “You’ll never believe this, but I just clapped eyes on Evelina. Small world, eh?”
Oleg babbled in an incoherent mix of English and Russian, and I realized he was panicking about something. It only got worse when I mentioned Evelina.
“Where are you?” he demanded. “Is she okay?”
“I’m in New York,” I answered. “And yes, she seemed fine. I didn’t say hello to her because I don’t want Kristina to know I’m here until I figure out—”
“Listen, Mikhail, she’s in trouble,” he said. My staid friend seemed to be on the verge of tears. “She’s meddling in something way over her head, and now she’s in too deep. The Novikoffs have put a hit out on her.”
The second he said she was in trouble, I immediately ditched my coffee and stood, leaving the shop. Heading toward Kristina’s apartment at a brisk pace, but one that wouldn’t raise eyebrows, I soon spotted Evelina at a magazine kiosk, picking out some snacks. Despite my worry over what Oleg had just told me, I couldn’t help but smile, remembering how she always needed a steady flow of fuel when she and Kristina pulled all-night study sessions.
“I’m on her, Oleg. Calm down and tell me what’s going on.”
“She refuses to stop poking the hornet’s nest. You’ve got to get her out of New York,” he pleaded. “Take her with you to Miami until I can come to collect her. Leo can’t make her see reason, and she won’t take my calls, so I can’t order her to stop.”
I sighed, keeping my distance when Evelina started walking again but never letting her out of my sight. Still as stubborn as ever, it seemed.
“If she won’t listen to her brother, she’s certainly not going to listen to me.”
“I don’t want you to talk to her,” he said, exasperated.
“I’m only here for a few days. I don’t know what—”
He broke in, his voice rising. “My daughter is in danger, Mikhail! You need to act.” He ended his demand on a shout.
I bristled. I never took orders from a Morozov, friend or no friend. I never took orders from anyone. But Evelina was… well, I wouldn’t say she was like a daughter. Not after the way I’d been thinking about her in the coffee shop. I would be devastated, though, if the unspeakable happened to her. Kristina would be broken if she lost her best friend.
“I’ll see what I can do.” I ended the call on his rush of thanks.
