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“Yes and be discreet.”
“When am I ever not discreet?”
“I’m not going to dignify that with the response. Just get it done.” My brother reaches for the jewelry, but I pick up the bracelet I had my eye on earlier before he can get his hands on it.
“Something caught your eye?” he asks me wryly.
“I’m keeping this. Sell the rest. Make sure the buyer doesn’t rip you off.”
Roman huffs. “You're talking to the Negotiator here. Getting a good deal is what I do.”
“Good, then go do it.”
“You know, you’ve been kind of absent these last few days. Where have you been sneaking off to?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on, man. Since when did you start keeping secrets?”
“I’m not keeping secrets.”
Roman puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, don’t tell me. And definitely don’t tell me about that secret girlfriend you’ve got hidden away.”
I bristle, the muscles in my shoulders tensing. I don’t want him or the rest of my family to know about Nikita. I’ve always believed in having a hard separation between personal life and work life. She’s a little slice of Heaven I plan on keeping all to myself. “There’s no secret girlfriend,” I grumble.
“Then who’s the bracelet for?” Roman urges, too keen for his own good. “I know for a fact you’re not the type to play dress up. Your wrists are too fat.”
“Would you get the hell out of here? I gave you a job. Any updates from the butcher?”
“None. I’m going to pay him a visit very shortly.”
“When you do, I want to come with. I want this whole thing sorted before Andrei comes back from his vacation.”
Roman gives me a mock soldier’s salute. “You’ve got it, One-Eye.”
Once the coast is clear, I run the pads of my thumbs over the bracelet. I can picture Nikita’s face when I give it to her. I hope it will make her happy. Nothing would bring me more joy than to see her face light up with that gorgeous smile of hers. Of course, if she asks where I got it, I’ll just have to spin the truth.
It’s the thought that counts, after all.
Chapter 14
Nikita
Iget home from the Bolshoi well before Mother does. I’m thankful for it. I frankly need a break from her breathing down my neck at all hours of the day. I get no peace when I go to work, and I find no peace when I go home. Silence, at this point, is paradise to me.
Unfortunately, Dad didn’t get the memo.
By the time I get back to the apartment, the lights are all on. It looks like a tornado tore the place apart. Books have been removed from shelves, all the cupboards have been opened, their contents dumped. I find Dad rummaging through the hallway closet, a collection of silverware and a few small crystal decorations gathered in a garbage bag. I have no idea what he’s looking for. All I know is he looks frantic, sweaty, and pale in the face with small trinkets of varying value resting by his feet.
Dammit. Mother just allowed him to move back in, and now he’s doing this again. My heart aches. The taste of disappointment lingers in my mouth.
“What’s going on?” I ask, calm but embittered by an unpleasantly familiar sight .
“Nikita,” he rasps. “Nikita, I’m so sorry. I thought I could handle it. I thought I could pay him back.”
I drop my things on the floor and rush to my father. “What are you talking about? No more secrets, Dad. Tell me what's going on.”
Dad takes a deep breath, his hands shaking with fear. “I made a mistake. The car dealership let me go.”
