41. Andrey

41

ANDREY

I'm pouring myself a cup of black coffee the following morning when Shura walks into the kitchen, carrying his own mug. He offers me nothing but a small nod.

Things have been strained between us since my chat with Leonty and him in the office. Regardless, when I gesture for him to sit, he takes the chair next to me without a fuss.

"How was dinner?"

Shura takes a long, thoughtful sip of coffee. "Good."

He knows I want more information, and he's withholding. Asshole .

"And here I was, thinking I was special to be invited." I smirk just to make sure Shura knows I don't really care.

Natalia invited everyone in my inner circle to the dinner I refused to attend—why should that bother me? I watched from the darkness of my office as they all returned, laughing and joking. I felt like a voyeur—poised on the outskirts of Natalia's life, observing hungrily but refusing to get any closer. Still, I couldn't look away.

"Natalia would probably say you were special," Shura points out. "But then, she's that way."

He's right; she is.

Somehow, Natalia has created a family amidst the rigid control of my Bratva. Yelena seems to have renewed purpose for the first time in years and Shura has been smiling a lot more freely.

But the biggest change in character has come from Misha.

The boy has gained some weight in recent weeks. There's color on his cheeks and a healthy glow in his skin. Apart from Natalia, Remi has bonded closely with Misha, and I can't help but suspect that's because the dog sees Misha as an extension of Natalia herself.

Everyone who gets close to Natalia gains something from the proximity.

Everyone but me.

I frown like I have no idea what he's talking about. "She's what way?"

"Kind."

If I hadn't seen him ogle Katya a few too many times, I might have suspected him of having feelings for Natalia. As it stands, he just gazes off into the gardens with a bored indifference on his face.

"And Misha behaved?" I ask.

"I misjudged the boy," Shura answers gruffly. "We all did. He's alright, really."

"Did Natalia help you see that, too?"

Shura turns to me slowly, his dark eyes troubled. "She was right. He's just a child, but we treated him like an enemy. Is it such a surprise that he acted the way he did? It's what I would have done. Hell, it is what I did."

His arm moves instinctively to his right leg. I've seen the ugly burn mark only a handful of times, but it's still seared in my memory. That kind of scarring doesn't happen without some serious pain and trauma behind it.

"I think last night was the first time the kid ever tried birthday cake."

I process the words belatedly. "Why were you eating birthday cake?"

Shura takes another long sip of coffee. "Because it was Natalia's birthday."

Oh, fuck.

I feel my pulse in my temples like a drumbeat announcing just how badly I fucked up. "You didn't mention that to me."

"I didn't realize I was supposed to. Would it have changed your mind about joining us?"

An old memory plays out in my mind. A flash of red and black streamers. White cake with ridiculous rainbow candles sticking out of the top. A laughing Maria decked out in a shimmering red dress with a high slit.

" Thirty years around the sun !" she exclaimed, cutting into her thick cake. " And here's to a hundred more! "

She didn't get a hundred more years, though.

She barely got six months.

"No," I rasp, pushing away the memory with difficulty. "It wouldn't have."

Shura nods as though he had expected nothing less. With a disappointed sigh, he gets to his feet and leaves the kitchen, taking his coffee with him.

I'm alone for only a couple minutes before I notice Natalia walking across the lawn, Remi prancing at her heels. She makes straight for the kitchen.

"Good morning, Andrey," she says with a crisp formality when she slips through the French doors. "Mind if I join you?"

I nod towards the chair and she drops into it, touching the gold locket around her neck as though it will give her courage.

Courage for what, I have no idea.

I have nothing to say, so the kitchen is silent.

"I want to go see my aunt," she blurts. "She lives a little outside of the city, but I'll take my whole security squad if that makes you feel better. I just really need to see her."

She says it all quickly, like maybe I won't be able to refuse her if she gets it out fast enough. She's breathing in, preparing her counterarguments, I'm sure, when I nod. "Okay."

Her mouth opens and closes in shock before a cautious smile slips across her face. "Great, ‘cause I was thinking I would head over there today."

I check the time on my Patek Philippe. "Well, I suppose I can push a few things around. Shall we leave in half an hour?"

Her mouth falls right back open again. "Erm… you wanna come with me?"

I don't want to come with her. The same way I don't want to pay for security. The same way I don't want to regularly threaten my enemies into compliance to maintain my control.

This is a business matter, pure and simple. Protecting valuable assets. Allocating resources.

"Extra security never hurts. And besides, I'm sure your aunt must be curious about the man you're living with."

Natalia blinks. "Um, yeah. She is, actually."

"Well, then we might as well get the first meeting over with."

She bounces up to her feet so fast that Remi jumps back in shock. "Come on, Remi!" she cries delightedly. "We're going for a little drive!"

"No!" I call out after her as she and Remi disappear through the back door. "We're not taking the dog!"

Thirty minutes later, a massive German Shepherd is drooling on the shoulder of my shirt and getting hair all over my Aston Martin.

"The dog rides in the back or not at all."

Natalia frowns at me, but lovingly cradles Remi's head. "Oh, come on, he'll behave. He just wants to be close to me."

"Then keep him far from me," I warn. "Or we put him in the Wrangler with the boys. Your choice."

Natalia rolls her eyes, but orders Remi to lie down in the backseat. Showing he was every bit worth the fortune I spent, he obeys.

"I'll have to get the car detailed after this."

"You can afford it." Natalia smirks. "Aunt Annie hasn't met Remi yet. I had to bring him along."

"The dog will survive one outing without you."

She looks innocently at me. "But he's my emotional support animal. What if I have a sudden attack of PTSD?"

"I'll be with you," I remind her.

"No offense, but you're a lot less cuddly than he is."

I give Remi a disgruntled glare in the rearview mirror, and I swear he licks his chops.

Natalia is twisted towards me the entire drive, but only so she can keep one hand on Remi's neck at all times.

Jealous of a fucking dog. Give me a break.

An hour later, we pull up to Aunt Annie's place. It's a narrow house, wedged between two others like an afterthought, though the bright yellow paint makes it stand out like a friendly face in a crowd of strangers. Fairy lights run the length of her fence and glittery baubles dangle from the emaciated tree in her tiny front yard. As the boys follow me up the narrow sidewalk, I can't help but wonder if we're all even going to fit inside this shack.

I almost lose my balance on the crooked front steps that lead to the door. When I look down, I realize what caught my toe: tiny handprints pressed into the concrete. The second step has larger prints. The third step, larger still.

"Mine," Natalia explains when she notices me looking. "Ages two, four, and six. It was Dad's idea."

Natalia was here as a little girl.

I see the place through a child's eyes, and just like that, it's magical. Natalia must have loved it.

Before I can ask her, a woman's voice shrieks through the thin walls of the house. "Nic-Nat!"

The door swings open, and Aunt Annie is much tinier than I expected. A full head shorter than Natalia and skinny as a whip. But her wiry hands clamp down on either side of Natalia's face with force. "Baby girl, I've missed you." She looks down and gasps. "And there's the stomach! Oh, you're glowing."

Natalia waves away the compliment and turns to me. "Aunt Annie, this is Andrey. Andrey, this is the woman who raised me."

"A pleasure," I greet, offering Aunt Annie my hand.

She smacks it away. "Oh, there's no need for stuffy old handshakes. Give me a hug." As her arms clasp around me—as far as they can go, at least—she whistles. "Well, aren't you a big man?"

"Aunt Annie!" Natalia chides, the faintest trace of embarrassment blossoming on her cheeks. She waves to the security team. "This is one half of my own personal boy band—the blonde one is Leonty; the blonder one is Leif. The other two are taking a day off. Oh, and how could I forget my main man?"

I grit my teeth in annoyance as she calls Remi forward, then grit my teeth again when I realize how ridiculous that is.

Natalia notices nothing of the war raging inside me as she presents the beast to Aunt Annie like the damn canine is the star of the show. "May I present Remington Boone? Remi for short."

Aunt Annie pops a squat in front of Remi and offers him her palm, which is shrewdly filled with dog treats. This isn't the woman's first rodeo, apparently. Remi accepts wholeheartedly, devouring the treats and then licking the hell out of the woman's face for good measure as Annie and Natalia both laugh and laugh and laugh.

Then Leif, Leonty, and I squeeze our way down the narrow passageway and into a living room that is somehow narrower. It's packed to the gills with all manner of random objects—crystal balls, assorted coffee mugs, things crocheted into shapes I barely recognize—and looks out into the backyard, where a beautiful cherry tree stands shedding pink petals on the grass.

Natalia veers straight for the windows. "How's my cherry tree doing?" she croons as though she expects the tree to talk back.

Everyone takes off in different directions. Remi races out into the garden through the open screen door and Leif and Leonty join him, eager for a bit more breathing room. Aunt Annie seems to have disappeared, too.

"She'll be in the kitchen getting snacks," Natalia explains when she sees me searching. "She won't be able to have a proper conversation until she's certain everyone is well-fed."

I can't help but smile. This is what it would have been like to have a proper mother. Someone who vandalizes their own home in order to commemorate a child's handprints. Someone who fusses over snacks for their kids' friends, who hugs instead of shaking hands.

Someone who gives love away freely, as though it costs them absolutely nothing. As if the mere act of giving it away makes them that much richer with the stuff.

I never knew what that was like.

Aunt Annie appears moments later with a tray groaning under the weight of enough pastries to feed my whole damn Bratva. She takes it into the garden and leaves it there for Leif and Leonty, then brings a second, equally laden tray into the living room.

"Cherry pie!" Natalia cries out and claps delightedly. "Bless you, Aunt Annie. You're a saint."

But Aunt Annie doesn't reply. Her gaze is fixed firmly on me. She's wearing a little smile that's polite but discerning.

And I understand right away.

She may be welcoming and gracious. She may be sweet and attentive. But she still hasn't made up her mind about me. She still hasn't determined if I'm good enough for her Natalia.

I can't say I blame her.