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After taking a shower, I get dressed and run a brush through my wet hair while checking my phone.
There is a text from Kaden. It came in at around half past three last night, which was when I was still dancing and drinking with my friends. I frown, wondering why he would text me in the middle of the night.
Setting down the hairbrush, I unlock the screen and open the app.
Kaden Hunter: I bet you two orgasms that sober you is going to blush at this text that drunk you just sent me.
My heart leaps, and I quickly scroll up to read the text that I sent him two minutes before he wrote that reply. I certainly don’t remember drunk texting him, but I clearly did, because my message is right there.
Heat flushes my cheeks as I read through the sentences where I give him a very kinky and very graphic description of what I’m going to do to him the next time I see him.
Clearing my throat, I press the back of my hand against my cheek in a useless attempt to cool the heat now radiating from my face. God above, drunk me is apparently a lot more creative than sober me.
I drop my hand from my cheek and send a text back.
Me: Sober me did indeed blush. Drunk me and sober me still regret nothing.
His response is immediate.
Kaden Hunter: Good. Never apologize for who you are.
Me: So… does that mean I get the two orgasms you bet me?
Kaden Hunter: Obviously. But I’m going to make you beg me for them. Thoroughly.
A thrill races down my spine and a wide grin spreads across my mouth. After sending a quick reply telling him to give it his best shot, I at last leave my bedroom and head down towards the kitchen. I’m practically skipping down the steps and through the corridor.
But the moment I walk into the kitchen, my happiness dims and I feel like I’ve stepped into a sullen rain cloud.
Mikhail, Anton, and the twins all stand there around the island, watching me the moment I walk across the threshold. There is both concern and worry on Anton’s face, while Maksim and Konstantin only look determined. Mikhail’s face is an unreadable mask, and he has his arms crossed over his chest.
Dread washes through me, and I glance from side to side. “What?”
“We’re going to have a family meeting,” Mikhail announces.
A groan slips out of me before I can stop it. “About what?”
“You know what.”
While blowing out an annoyed sigh, I slip past them and shove two pieces of bread into the toaster with more force than necessary. The machine lets out a terrified ding as I angrily slam down the tiny lever.
Turning back around, I cross my arms over my chest as well and glare at all four of them. “We don’t need to have a family meeting, because there is nothing to discuss. I have made a decision about my life. That’s it. How you feel about it makes no difference.”
Mikhail holds my gaze with hard eyes. “You’re still a Petrov.”
“And—” I begin, but Anton cuts me off.
“Dad is already waiting for us back at the house.” Concern still etches his brows and he gives me a pleading look. “Mom too. Please, Alina. You know how Dad gets. This conversation needs to happen at some point, so isn’t it better to just get it over with?”
I open my mouth, ready to argue. But the problem is that he’s right. Dad is not going to just let this go without a fight, so this confrontation is going to happen whether I want it to or not. So I might as well just get it over with.
“Fine.” I heave a deep sigh. “Just let me eat my toast first.”
My dad is the most imposing person I have ever met. Even though he is actually an inch or two shorter than Kaden, I have always felt as if his presence just fills the whole room the moment he walks into it.
His brown hair lies slicked back in a severe way so that it won’t obstruct his vision. I inherited his gray eyes, but his somehow still seem vastly different from mine. There is a hardness in them that makes most people take a step back when he locks his stare on them.
My mother is the opposite. She’s short and slim, with big blue eyes and flowing blonde hair. I inherited both her hair color and her petite frame. And just like people do when they see me, they immediately write her off as harmless when she walks into a room. To be fair, they’re mostly right. She’s not an assassin. In fact, she and Dad married as part of a business deal much like what they’re trying to set me up with. While I’m pretty sure they have grown to love each other, their marriage was an arranged one for strategic benefits.
