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My ears burn and my heart thuds in my chest. I tell my twin everything. I told her about my first kiss with Ivan Toravich in the sixth grade after school. Dad was furious, Mom thought it was sweet. I told Cee about the time I borrowed Mom’s earrings without her permission when I was fifteen and lost them, and Charlotte still hasn’t told a soul. Deep down, I know if I told Charlotte the truth—Andrei not only kissed me, and Ilikedit—she’d take my secret to the grave.
But I can’t go through with it. I can’t tell her I still think about the roughness of his kiss, the demanding nature of his mouth. I think I’ll die of embarrassment if I ever confess that the mere memory of Andrei’s body pressed against mine sends heat pooling between my legs. If I’m being perfectly honest, I feel like I’m slowly going insane. Every waking thought somehow finds its way back to him.
All I could think about while Dad gave me a rundown of our territory, using a large map of Moscow to highlight all our land, was what Andrei took from us. Every single business within the red borders Dad had drawn, every guard post and stronghold… It’s all been painstakingly fought for and won by my father and uncles. There was history on that map, pieces of it carved up and brought into our fold over the last twenty-odd years. It’s my family’s legacy.
And the small, almost imperceptible corner of the map that wasn’t highlighted—the territory Andreistolefrom us—serves as an ever-present reminder that everything can be taken away. If I’m not careful, my father’s empire could slip right through my fingers. I have so much to lose… Which means I can’t let myself be distracted by Andrei, no matter how badly my body betrays me.
“At least tell me what he looks like,” Charlotte says as she finishes her drink. “That way I can keep an eye out for him.”
I laugh softly. “And why would you need to keep an eye out for him?”
“Revenge, sis. Revenge. Nobody kidnaps my sister and lives.”
If anyone else overhead, they’d probably think Charlotte was joking. Judging by the darkness lurking behind her eyes, I can safely assume she’s dead serious.
I wave a hand dismissively. “Let our men take care of that, Cee.”
She shoots me a look. “If you say so. But what about—”
I stop listening.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot something peculiar. No, not something.Someone. The club is dark, and the flashing lights and writhing bodies make it difficult to pinpoint him, but I’d recognize that deliciously dark hair and those broad shoulders anywhere. The way he moves, the way he towers over everyone else, walking with such confidence people part before him like water to avoid being trampled underfoot.
Andrei.
The alarm bells inside my skull go off, ringing louder than the bass-boosted music. What the hell is he doing here? I wouldn’t describe this club as being deep within Antonov territory, but it’s both brazen and stupid for him to show his face here. I need to get to the bottom of this. Is he stalking me? What’s his game?
“I need to go to the bathroom,” I tell my sister.
“Oh, okay. I think they’re downstairs, right behind the big water feature.”
The moment I rise, several of my guards start toward me. I shake my head. “Stay here and look after Charlotte. I’ll only be a moment.”
Vance, the head of my security and loyal Antonov enforcer, frowns. “With all due respect, ma’am, we need to be with you at all times. Your father’s orders.”
My nostrils flare, a lick of irritation crawling up the back of my neck. I stand a little straighter, hold my head up high—just like Dad always does when he gives orders. “Listen, you work formenow. WhatIsay goes. Do you understand?”
Vance shifts his weight slightly from foot to foot, his discomfort nearly palpable. “Of course, Ms. Antonova. My apologies.”
“It’s fine. This is an adjustment period for all of us. I’m just going to the restroom. I’ll be right back. If I need anything, I’ll call for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Behind me, Charlotte giggles. “Being a boss bitch looks good on you.”
I flip her off. “Be good. I’ll be right back.”
Chapter 12
Andrei
The Serpentine isn’t my idea of a sparkling business venture, but it’s certainly the next step in my series of ever-growing plans. I don’t necessarily want to operate a club, but there’s no denying the revenue potential.
I’m not even talking about the ridiculously marked up liquor prices. I’m talking drugs. The clientele here is the perfect demographic to make a little extra on the side—it’s just a matter of making a deal with the club owner. He gets a cut of the profit, and in turn, he looks the other way—and he doesn’t have to report his earnings to the Antonovs since it’d all be under the table.
It’s a win-win situation. He’d be stupid not to take it.
“Let’s make this quick,” Samuil grumbles behind me. It’s not like him to be so jittery. If I had to venture a guess, it’s probably because he’s afraid we’ll get caught by the Antonovs. Wearepushing our luck by being here, after all, but what’s reward without a little risk?
