18. Anton

18

ANTON

I forget that I can’t drink like I did when I was in my early twenties. All day, I haven’t been able to shake the pounding headache or the constant feeling of nausea in my stomach. The alcohol was meant to take away my problems, but instead it just gave me new ones.

I’m grateful that Reid forced me to hand over my keys and drove me home himself last night. I was easily double the limit, if not more, and the alcohol mixed with my rage is not a good combination to have behind the wheel of a car.

I barely remember getting to bed, and the way I woke up at nine, still fully dressed in my shirt and slacks, tells me that I was out cold.

Nina was long gone by the time I ventured downstairs after taking a shower, but I’m glad that she didn’t see me looking so rough. It would have only brought up questions that I was in no mood to answer.

After several cups of coffee and a long workout in the gym to sweat out the last of the alcohol, I’m almost back to normal, though the anger is still simmering just below the surface at the knowledge that Nikolai is currently in New York.

I lock myself away in my office and busy myself with mindless tasks to pass the time. I turn my phone off, not that I expect a call from Nikolai, but I don’t want the temptation of leaving him another voicemail. I said all I needed to say. Now it’s up to him to decide if he has the balls to reply or not.

The sound of the front door opening a few hours later, and Nina’s soft voice echoing around the foyer as she thanks Yakov has my chest swelling.

I’ve been counting down the hours until she would be home, eager to see her, to hold her.

Leaving an email half-written, I quickly head downstairs to greet her. “How was your day?”

Nina blinks up at me with tired eyes.

I know she had a long rehearsal this afternoon, but from the dark purple shadows beneath her eyes, it looks as if she didn’t sleep well last night.

I guess that makes two of us.

“Fine,” she sighs, not meeting my eyes.

I frown at the lack of sparkle in her blue eyes.

Even after a long day of dancing, she normally looks tired, but there is still that spark in her eyes from the excitement at getting to spend every day doing what she loves.

But there’s no trace of that excitement today.

“Has something happened?” I reach out to stroke her cheek.

She flinches at my touch, and I pull back.

“Nina?”

“Sorry. I’m just exhausted.” She wraps her arms around her small frame.

“It’s okay, lapochka .”

She offers me a small smile, but it’s forced.

I can tell from the way her eyes don’t light up or crinkle at the edges.

As much as I want to press her for answers, I know she’ll talk to me if she wants to.

“Why don’t you invite Emma over again at the weekend? And maybe the other girls too? It will be good for you to socialize outside of class and have some fun.” I feel guilty for keeping her in the house.

I know seeing Emma last Sunday really cheered her up, and I want to make sure that she makes time to see her friends, even if it’s just at the house.

“Anton, I’m fine.”

“I know, but still. Staying here all the time can’t be easy for you. After all, you came to New York to experience a new life, and I’m aware that you’re missing out on a lot of experiences by being shut away in this house.”

Nina’s gaze lowers to the floor, and her shoulders hunch over slightly.

I ache to reach for her, to pull her against my chest and hold her as she works through whatever is spinning around in her head right now.

But I also want to respect her boundaries, so I shove my hands into my pockets and wait for her to speak.

She nods slightly. “I’ll speak to Emma.”

Something must have happened.

Did she have a falling out with her friends that she doesn’t want to tell me about? Is that why she’s being so vague and quiet?

“I’m going to shower,” she says before I have a chance to ask any more questions.

I step to the side to let her pass, hating how defeated she looks.

I stand at the bottom of the stairs, watching her until she disappears, my heart aching for her.

I hate seeing her so sad, but I don’t know how to cheer her up if she won’t tell me what’s wrong.

Perhaps Yakov overheard something that might give me a clue to Nina’s sudden mood.

I find him in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, his usual scowl plastered on his face.

“Did anything happen at school today? Nina doesn’t seem like herself.”

“No,” Yakov grunts, setting his glass down on the counter.

“You didn’t overhear anything about her classes or friends?”

“She was quiet most of the day.” Yakov shrugs his huge shoulders. “Her friends just talked and talked about nothing of interest.” He looks annoyed by this, but I won’t feel guilty for forcing him to listen to a bunch of twenty-something girls all day, every day. Not when his salary is incredibly generous.

“It might not have been of interest to you, but what of Nina?” I press, growing frustrated.

“They just talked about their night out at Espionage on Friday. Unless you want Emma’s vulgar descriptions of what she did in the toilets, I can assure you, none of it impacted Nina.”

“Something must have happened…” I run my fingers through my hair.

“She went to the bathroom quite a lot,” Yakov grunts. “It’s probably her time of the month.”

I hadn’t thought of that. I’m not used to having a woman around all the time, and I had forgotten such things.

“Yeah, maybe.” I silently curse myself for not stocking the place with the right supplies.

“Do you need me for anything else? Otherwise, Alexei needed me for a job in the city tonight.”

“No, we're all good here.”

Yakov nods before stalking from the kitchen.

Just as he’s walking out, Danika appears carrying a basket of freshly-ironed laundry. She sets the basket down on the table. “Mr. Koslov, can I make you some food?”

“Actually, Danika, would you mind running to the store for me?”

After giving Danika a list of things that Nina might need, including an extortionate amount of chocolate, I start work on dinner. I decide to make chicken parmesan, a recipe that never fails to make me feel better.

My mother always used to make this for me whenever I was feeling down and while I’m aware that food isn’t always the answer, I want to show Nina that I’m thinking about her. Sometimes, it’s enough to know that someone cares, to know that you don’t have to suffer alone.

Danika knows it’s one of my favorites and keeps the ingredients on hand most of the time.

I pull out some chicken breasts from the fridge before heading into the walk-in pantry to find the other ingredients. As I’m butterflying the chicken, a thought hits me out of nowhere, and I almost slice the knife right through my hand as I realize my mistake.

“You idiot, Anton,” I mutter under my breath as our conversation last night comes flooding back to me.

All the things I told her about Igor Ivanov, about me …

No wonder she was being so standoffish. She had wanted to talk last night, and I had stupidly taken that call from Rosa that led me to spiral so deep into my own thoughts that I had completely disregarded how Nina might be feeling. I was too wrapped up in my own shit to realize that Nina might require some comforting or just some level of connection from me after what I had shared with her, and I did the complete opposite.

I’m such an asshole.

It’s a miracle she even came back to the house at all.

“You better hope that this is some magic chicken parmesan,” I mutter under my breath as I prepare the chicken.

I always forget what temperature to set the oven on, so I pull my phone out to check the recipe to find it still turned off.

I hold down the side buttons until it springs to life, the screen flooding with notifications from Alexei and Mikhail.

As always, if it’s important enough, they will call, so I set my phone down and get to work prepping the sauce.

It seems my cousins have the ability to read minds as no sooner have I poured in the can of tomatoes does my screen light up with an incoming call from Alexei.

I figure whatever it is must be important, so I slide my thumb across the screen and put the call on speaker.

“What is it, Alexei?”

“Did you turn your phone off? I’ve been trying to reach you for hours.”

“Yeah, I needed some peace and quiet.”

“Don’t we all,” Alexei mutters.

“What do you need?”

“I had a meeting with Frederik today.”

“Your PI?”

“Yeah. He’s been looking into Lev for me, and one of his informants came through with some interesting information.”

I pause stirring the sauce as I glance over my shoulder to check that none of my staff, or Nina for that matter, are around. “Go on.”

“He assures me that he can provide proof that Lev is the one who killed our parents. For a price, of course.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. “What kind of price?”

“If he speaks out against Igor, he wants protection and money.”

“They always do. Why are you telling me this?” While I appreciate that Alexei always keeps me in the loop on family business, I’m curious as to why he’s coming to me with this rather than one of his brothers considering this information concerns his parents, not mine.

“I want you and Mikhail to go and speak with the informant and see if his intel is worth anything to us.”

“I appreciate you trusting me with this.”

“They were practically your parents too,” Alexei says before hanging up the phone.

While I had a great relationship with my own mother and father growing up, my aunt and uncle always felt like bonus parents to me. Our family was incredibly close, which is why my cousins have always felt more like brothers to me.

My phone rings again, and I roll my eyes as I answer without glancing at the name, knowing it’s likely Alexei having forgotten to tell me something.

“Anton?”

The spoon in my hand falls to the ground with a clatter, splattering tomato sauce all over the white tiled floor as my brother's voice comes through the speakers.

“Anton?”

“I’m here.” I reach for my phone, taking it off speaker.

Nikolai is silent, and for a beat, I wonder if he’s hung up, but I hear the sound of traffic in the background that tells me he’s still on the line.

Is he seriously going to make me talk first?

“I take it you got my voicemail.”

Nikolai huffs a laugh. “Yeah, I did.”

“I don’t regret what I said, but I apologize for being drunk while I said it.”

“Never had you down as a drunk dialer, brother. But I deserve a hell of a lot worse than an angry voicemail.”

“You’re right about that.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten in touch sooner.”

It’s strange to hear his voice. It’s been at least a year since we last spoke, but I honestly can’t remember the last time I saw him in the flesh. It can’t have been long after my mother got her diagnosis as that’s what finally pushed Nikolai away.

“Mama’s been asking for you a lot.” I know I shouldn’t guilt trip my brother, but he should know the reality of what’s been happening during his absence.

“I didn’t think she’d remember me.”

“She remembers you fine.”

Nikolai is quiet for a moment, and I silently curse.

Snapping at him won’t make him want to come back, it will only push him away further. “She misses you. We all do.”

“I appreciate that. Do I even want to know how you got my new number?”

“Rosa.”

Nikolai laughs, the sound so nostalgic that I feel a smile tug at my lips. I’ve missed that sound.

“Why am I not surprised.” Nikolai chuckles. “Bet she’s pissed at me too.”

“She’s pissed at everyone.”

Nikolai laughs again, and I rub my hand over my jaw.

“You’ve missed a lot.”

“I know. I never meant to, but every time I thought about coming to see you, to see Mama, I just found a reason not to.”

“I appreciate that it’s not easy to see her like this, but she needs her family more than ever.”

“How bad is she?”

“It varies day to day. She’s deteriorating quickly, Nikolai. But I’m sure seeing you will cheer her up.”

“I promise I will come and visit Mama soon.”

“I’ve heard that before, Nikolai.”

“I know. But I’m trying to be better.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”