44. Max

Natalya sits on my lap, refusing to look at me. Her body is relaxed because of the alcohol she's consumed, but there's distance between us and I don't like it. Not at all.

Two large bottles of champagne appear and Natalya watches with amusement as her friend Jane pours us all a glass.

Kolya stands back, checking the room, making sure nobody gets a jump on us. He called in a couple of the guys and they're downstairs.

I'm not worried. There are no immediate threats on my horizon, but we have all stepped up security lately.

I planned to come here, find my girl, and drag her back to my place by any means necessary. But I've had a change of heart. Watching her dance made me realize just how stressed she is. It was the first time in a week I've seen her smile. Genuinely smile.

She smiled when I took her out for dinner after her little tantrum, but even then she was holding back. My gut says she still doesn't trust me. Perhaps because she doesn't believe that the woman she saw with me means nothing.

"Ooh, this is the good stuff!" Natalya's friend Jane laughs as the champagne bubbles out of her glass. All three girls clink glasses in a toast to ‘friendship' and down their drinks before Jane tops up their glasses with more champagne.

Amanda and Jane stand. "Let's drink this and then go dance."

I watch, curiously, as the weird dynamic between Natalya's other friend and Kolya plays out. His eyes are glued to her when he's not scanning the crowd around us.

I'm not used to seeing big, gruff Kolya showing interest in a woman beyond the usual type he goes for. I know my guys have personal lives, but being part of a Bratva doesn't lend itself to warm and cozy domesticity. Especially not for the guys who are close to me and required to follow my orders at a moment's notice.

"You coming, babe?" Jane looks at Natalya and then me, a small smile playing across her lips. Amanda stares down over the balcony as strobe lights pulse and people move to the beat of some fucking awful dance track.

Give me classic rock any day of the week. I fucking hate this shit.

Natalya starts to shift away from me but my arm holds her down. She grumbles irritably but stills when I whisper in her ear.

"We need to talk."

I hear her small huff of annoyance but she stops struggling. "Maybe in a minute," she says.

Jane smirks and then sashays away with Amanda hot on her heels.

Kolya looks at me in askance, and I sigh. "Go with them." He nods. They'll be fine down there but I know he'd rather be keeping an eye on Amanda than me. And I can take care of myself.

Now I have my malyshka all to myself. She may think she's going back downstairs in a few minutes, but she's mistaken. I intend to get to the bottom of why she's being distant with me.

She should have been staying at my apartment this week, not with her friend. I'm far better equipped to take care of her than some petite blond. And she knows it. So why has she refused all of my invitations?

But I decide not to lead with that.

"I've missed you," I say while shifting her so she's half-facing me.

Her arm slips around my neck as she relaxes against my chest. Her eyes are a little unfocused but she's not excessively drunk. Which is good because I don't want her to forget this conversation.

"I'm sure you have way too much going on to miss me," she snorts. "Busy person like yourself, running hotels and… shit."

There's an edge to her voice. Is she suspicious of me? I guess it would make sense given where I came out of when she saw me with that silly woman. She is well aware it's where our esteemed mayor runs the city from. The base of his operations. Civic and otherwise.

"I have been busy, yes. The mayor is finally signing off on a casino development that's been in the planning stages for two years. We break ground next month."

"Oh," she says, surprised I'm telling her this. "I thought you were into hotels?"

"My hotels are established, yes, but I'm an entrepreneur and there's a gap in the market for an upscale casino. People love to gamble while enjoying the best entertainment money can buy. There will also be a luxury hotel and spa on-site."

"Wow… it sounds amazing." She blinks, wide-eyed, and I can tell she means what she says. I like that she approves. The development will create lots of jobs and boost the local economy. As well as provide another business to funnel my ill-gotten gains through.

"Is this why you've been avoiding me for the last few days? Because you think I'm involved with the mayor's underhand deals?"

Her expression switches from surprised to suspicious in a heartbeat. "What do you know about the mayor's shady business dealings?"

"I know you're investigating him."

I dislike the way she stiffens in my arms. Like she's afraid of me. "I'm a journalist, it's what I do," she snaps before trying to pull away, but I tighten my grip on her.

"Investigative journalism is not quite the same as writing lifestyle articles, is it," I point out, making it clear I know she lied about the extent of what she does.

A faint flush creeps up her cheeks and she looks away, pretending to watch a group of older guys nearby as they laugh about something.

"I do both, stupid stories on women's interest topics as well as more news-related stuff when my editor agrees. I want to move away from the fluff stuff and write more serious articles, but it's taking time to persuade anyone to give me a break."

"I see. So how long have you been investigating the mayor?" Sasha will be annoyed I've admitted I know what she's up to. He thinks I'm stupid to draw attention to our many links to that asshole. But I don't think Natalya will uncover anything connected to me. We keep our illegitimate business dealings well hidden.

"A while." There's a pause while she chews her plump lip. "He's not a good person."

That's a fucking understatement. The slimeball is as twisted as they come.

"No, he's not, and I'm worried you're putting yourself in danger by writing about him."

"I can take care of myself." She straightens her back and looks at me. "I don't need you to protect me." We both know she does.

"I protect what's mine."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm not yours."

"Is that so?" There's a soft gasp when my hand slides up between her thighs. She tenses and looks around but nobody's watching us. The lights are low up here, for privacy reasons, and there's a table preventing anyone from seeing what's happening below her waist.

My dick is hard but I ignore it. This is about her. My sexy, untrusting malyshka. I want her to trust me. She'll be safer if she trusts me. The guys I have following her every day managed to lose her the other night. Fucking useless mudaks. It was only because I checked her phone's location to a nearby address, which Sasha reassured me belonged to her aunt, that nobody got shot.

I'd be much happier if she moved in with me and accepted a security detail. Maybe now I've been honest with her, she will. But first, she needs to be punished for being a little brat.