31. Mika

31

MIKA

M yknee bounces nervously as I occupy a passenger chair in Alfie’s helicopter. It feels oddly anxiety-inducing to be on my way down to the city. My stomach knots as I think about his invitation to join him for dinner at his estate. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to New York City. I usually prefer the anonymity of the countryside, but if I’m going to be with Alfie, I suppose I’ll have to get comfortable with high society—at least if he wants me to attend events. He was pretty vague on the details about this dinner, and I hope he didn’t expect me to get all dolled up, because I literally don’t own a dress—I’m confident after I dug through my closet to double-check.

It’s just dinner, Mika, I coach myself, but I wonder why he wouldn’t just fly up to meet me at the barn if that’s the case. We could have had dinner in the Carvers’ old house if he wanted something fancy—he kept on their chef after buying the house, so I’ve been eating luxuriously over the last few days. I’m overthinking it, and I take several deep, calming breaths as I try to let my nerves go. I’m just not a people person. Hell, I’d go for a picnic at the barn any day over a dinner party.

My stomach somersaults as the helicopter slowly lowers, and the landing gear lightly settles onto the ground. Vincent—Alfie’s Man in Black who he sent to collect me—gives me a curt nod, signaling that it’s okay to remove my headset. I pull it off, disrupting my messy bun as I do, and set it on the seat next to me. A second later, Vincent is stepping off the chopper, offering his hand to help me down. I ignore the gentlemanly gesture—I know how to dismount a seventeen-hand horse without a problem. A helicopter is a cakewalk compared to that. Still, I give him a smile to ensure there are no hard feelings.

He lets it go without a word, escorting me silently up to the Bonetti house, and as I get a close look at Alfie’s home for the first time, my steps falter, my jaw dropping. It’s massive. A modern-day castle built on the edge of New York City—just outside the bright lights of downtown. Nestled in a quiet neighborhood, it’s by far the most impressive home I’ve ever laid eyes on—even compared to the Carvers’ mansion—and given my line of work, with the wealthy investors that run the racing industry, I’ve seen some pretty grand estates.

“Spectacular, isn’t it?” Vincent observes, the first hint of amusement lacing his tone as he glances my way.

“You could say that again,” I mutter, then I pull myself together and climb the curving marble steps that lead up to Alfie’s towering front door.

It swings open before I reach it, and while I anticipated a perfectly polished butler to be on the other side, I’m taken by surprise as Alfie’s sister, Nina, comes racing across the threshold. She’s grinning from ear to ear before she throws her arms around my shoulders for a hug. My natural instinct is to tense from the unexpected display of affection, but to my surprise, I catch myself smiling from her open-armed welcome. Releasing me after a moment, she steps back and pulls her phone out of the hidden pocket in her adorable emerald-green cocktail dress. I’m definitely underdressed if she’ll be joining us for dinner.

She types something out quickly and turns her phone for me to see. Come upstairs with me. Alfie says I can dress you up for the evening.

A combination of trepidation and giddy nerves pools in my stomach, but before I can object, Nina grasps my hand and pulls me inside the house. I bite my lip, anxious over what she might have in mind because I’m not one of those girls who wears makeup and fancy dresses. But I’m grateful Nina’s not going to let me attend dinner in jeans when she’s wearing such a beautiful dress and matching heels. The tall shoes rap smartly against the white marble floors.

My eyes scan the open space, the sheer, clean whiteness of their impressive home, and even though I did change out of my barn clothes, I still feel anxious that I could get something dirty just by trudging in after a day at the barn. The entry has a wrought-iron banister staircase curving up to the second floor with intricate vines twisted into the metalwork. It’s so open and light that even with the sun setting outside, I feel like I’m surrounded by warm daytime somehow.

It’s nice, refreshing, even if it’s far too immaculate for a barn girl like me. But I don’t have time to overthink about it as Nina leads me up the sweeping staircase to the high-ceilinged second floor. The decor is crisp and modern, with splashes of color on the wall from abstract paintings. We enter her room, and it smells of lavender and eucalyptus—a favorite calming smell combined with one that reminds me of Alfie.

Speaking of which, where the hell is he? I haven’t heard from him since he left for the city to “deal with the Russians,” and I’m anxious to know what happened. I shudder at the wide range of possibilities that have crossed my mind today, everything from a bloody showdown to Alfie leaving a horse head at the foot of Nikolai’s bed as a message has passed through my brain. I’m sure Alfie wouldn’t do the latter—if for no other reason than because he knows I would never forgive him—but I still really want to know how he resolved the threat—if he resolved it.

Nina eyes me up and down speculatively, then turns and vanishes into what looks like a room inside her room. The lights flick on as I follow her, and I gasp at the size of her closet. It literally has a rolling ladder so she can reach the clothes on the higher rack. I could easily get lost in the labyrinth of clothes, but she seems to know right where she’s going, and she grabs a tea-length navy-blue dress before climbing back down and handing it to me.

“You want me to put this on?” I ask skeptically, lifting it to take in the open back and gauzy fabric.

Nina rolls her eyes and twists her wrist to indicate I should get a move on. Laughing, I concede. Clearly, I don’t have a choice in the matter, and even if I’m not a girly girl, the idea of dressing up is kind of fun. I just hope she—and Alfie—don’t expect me to transform into some fairy-tale princess or porcelain doll now that I’m seeing Alfie.

Alfie’s sister gives me a nod of approval as soon as I step out of the bathroom to show her the dress. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, she grabs my shoulders and pushes me into the chair before her vanity. My hair is freshly washed and tied up in its usual messy bun. I did try to tame it a little before giving up and stashing it on top of my head, but Nina seems up for the challenge as she takes it down. Pulling out the drawers at her station, she finds a tube of cream and squeezes a generous portion into her palm. Then, she spreads it evenly between her hands and works it methodically through my curls. To my astonishment, the wild locks slowly transform into soft, coiling ringlets. I need whatever product that is because, even though my curls are still there in full force, each lock is smooth and silky, almost tame yet full of bounce.

“What is that stuff?” I demand in awe.

She must catch my lips in the mirror, because she hands me the bottle, then gestures for me to keep it.

“Are you serious?” My heart squeezes at her easy generosity.

Nina nods with a smile, and as she turns her attention to the box of makeup on the vanity’s surface, my genuine appreciation for Alfie’s sister grows. Unlike my disinterest in most people, I find I actually like her. It feels like we could quickly become friends. I kind of hope we do, which is rare for me. Normally, it takes years of good interactions for me to let down my guard with someone. It would seem both Bonetti siblings have a similar disarming effect on me.

Looking at me intently with hazel eyes that remind me of her brother’s, Nina bends to study closely at my face. She picks up a thin paintbrush and gestures for me to close my eyes. I obey, though I’m not used to wearing makeup of any kind, and cool liquid brushes across my eyelids a moment later, making me twitch. Nina laughs—no doubt over my dramatic reaction—and I join her.

Thankfully, she doesn’t spend long on my cosmetics, applying each detail with a light hand, and when she turns me back toward the mirror, I gasp. With just a bit of dark liner and mascara around my eyes and a red-tinged gloss on my lips, she’s transformed me into a version of myself that I don’t recognize—but that I find I don’t mind, either. I’m not a stunning fashion statement like Alfie’s ex-fiancée, but I actually look beautiful. Color stains my cheeks as they flood with warmth, and I’m unexpectedly touched by Nina’s effort to doll me up. It gives me a new level of confidence I never would have anticipated—even if I’m wearing a dress and showing off more skin than I ever have in public. My tan lines are readily available for the eye, and I worry my lip as I wonder if they won’t be a turnoff. But they’re part of who I am. It comes with the job, and I won’t apologize for that.

As the last touch, Nina passes me a pair of shoes, and relief floods me when they’re flats. I honestly don’t know that I could walk in heels, and I don’t want to make a complete fool of myself now that I’m finally willing to see where things go with Alfie.

“Thank you.” I grasp Nina’s hand, giving it a squeeze.

She pulls me in for another hug, and my chest tightens. Unexpected as it might be, I think Alfie’s sister and I might already be friends, and that fills me with a sense of belonging that brings tears to my eyes. It’s the same kind of deep, unspoken connection I feel with my horses, and it’s nice to have that bond with another woman, someone who I can hold an intelligent conversation with.

Taking my hand, Nina heads back toward the stairs without a word, and my heart skips a beat as I prepare for the unexpected. She links arms with me as we start to descend, and I catch sight of Alfie for the first time. He looks as dashing as ever in a charcoal gray suit, his hair styled to perfection, his five-o’clock shadow darkening his masculine jaw. My pulse starts to race as I watch him standing at the foot of the stairs, his gaze fixed on something in the distance. His head turns when he hears Nina’s heels on the marble floor. Then his striking hazel eyes find mine, and his lips part as he smiles. How I ever considered that smile anything but pure warmth and genuine charm, I don’t know. But it steals the air from my lungs, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe.

“You look beautiful,” he says with both his voice and hands as he signs to include his sister in the conversation—even though he’s looking at me. His eyes trail appreciatively over my dress before returning to my face.

Warmth floods my cheeks as we come to a stop on the bottom step. “Thanks. It’s all Nina’s doing.”

Nina slips her arm out of mine to step past her brother, but I stand frozen in front of him, my chest tight with nerves. I feel so much more confident when I’m dressed in jeans and covered in a layer of barn dust than I do now, and my stomach quivers with the sense of vulnerability from wearing such a feminine dress.

“She might have dressed you up, but you’re a natural beauty.”

His low voice drips with promise as he runs his fingers along my jaw, making my stomach clench, and my temperature rise. My breath catches, and my heart flutters as electricity crackles between our skin.

“So.” I lick my lips nervously, trying to rein in my emotions. “What is this dinner exactly? Your invitation was rather vague.”

Alfie chuckles. “You don’t like surprises, do you?”

I cock an eyebrow pointedly. “I work with horses. Of course, I don’t.”

He laughs more openly now, the warm sound ringing through the entry. It makes me hopeful that his meeting with the Kapranovs went well today. Alfie takes my hand, and a giddy thrill rushes through me as he interlaces our fingers and ushers Nina and me through the open-concept entryway and past the enormous living room. I’m shocked when we step into an intimate dining room that looks about the size of one that I could find in a normal-sized home. The table is just big enough for six people, but only three places are set.

“It’s just us?” I ask, confusion lacing my tone .

“Were you hoping for a party?” Alfie glances at me from the corner of his eye, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“No, I—this is perfect. I just worked myself up into a sweat, picturing dinner as some big event.”

Again, Alfie chuckles, the sound filling my belly with warm excitement. “Nina’s an important part of my life. I thought it would be nice for you and my sister to get to know each other a bit more personally before—well, since you won’t be going anywhere.”

He winks, and my heart skips a beat, but I’m curious about what he was going to say before he seemed to think better of it and shifted the direction of his sentence. Before I can ask, Nina smiles and gestures quickly to her brother.

Alfie snorts, his eyes shifting back to me after she finishes gesturing. “She says she’s the best way to really get to know me.”

That makes me laugh. “I believe it.”

As we settle into our chairs at the table, several maids enter from the kitchen, placing an opulent plate of food before each of us. My mouth waters at the rich, smokey scent of cranberry-glazed elk served alongside cream-whipped potatoes and roasted vegetables. One of the maids pours each of us a glass of red wine from an expensive-looking bottle. They leave without a word, and Alfie raises his glass, waiting until Nina and I do the same.

“To new beginnings and making friends,” he toasts, his eyes dancing playfully.

The delicate crystal glasses clink with ringing clarity, and as I take my first sip of the peppery wine, I feel my muscles unraveling. My initial nerves are fading now that I know it’s just the three of us, and I feel surprisingly comfortable in the unfamiliar environment of Alfie’s home. Everything about this night feels right. Taking my first flavor-filled bite, I can’t help but moan appreciatively when the perfectly cooked meat melts on my tongue. It pairs beautifully with the wine, the rich flavor of the steak balancing out the wine’s acidity as it complements the creamy potatoes.

The conversation and laughter flow effortlessly, and I find I’m enjoying myself despite all the madness of these past few days. It’s almost enough to make me forget about the sword hanging over our heads, as Alfie seems to be intentionally avoiding the subject of his meeting this morning. Finally, after we’ve finished our plates of tiramisu and they’re cleared from the table, I can’t stand the wait any longer. I need to know.

Turning to Alfie, I lean in, fresh tension knotting my stomach. “You still haven’t told me what happened with the Russians.” I hope he’s not steering clear of the subject because it’s a sore one, but the longer he dances around it, the more I’m starting to worry.

His expression shutters slightly, his easy smile falling from his face, and my heart plummets as a guarded look enters his eyes. “Nikolai is dead. He was more interested in a power struggle than a compromise, and so I removed him from the equation. Dominik is the Kapranov pakhan now, and he and I came to an agreement.”

Hearing him say so bluntly that he killed Nikolai is a jolt to my system, but rather than the horror I thought I would experience, all I feel is relief. In the recesses of my subconscious, I’ve been terrified he might find a way to come back and finish what he started. The information is such a shock that I don’t fully process what he said, and it takes me a beat to understand exactly what he means, because the words contrast with the expression on his face so completely. “An agreement is good, isn’t it?” I glance toward Nina in confusion.

Amusement plays across her lips as she looks pointedly at her brother.

“ I think so,” Aflie says, and the grip on my chest eases slightly.

“But?” I prompt, sensing his hesitation.

“Part of the agreement was that you and I would get married.”

I’m stunned by his statement, not quite comprehending, like his words got lost in translation. Slowly, they sink in, and I don’t know what to think about the fact that, somehow, I got roped into a marriage arrangement of some kind. Again, I’m struck by the bizarre tradition that seems to still be common in the mafia, though the rest of the modern world has moved on. Under different circumstances, I would probably find it horrifying—being told I have to marry Alfie rather than him asking—and I frown as I wait for the familiar sense of rebellion to take over.

Before I can talk myself into an argument, though, the rest of Alfie’s statement rushes out, as if the explanation will absolve him of any guilt for agreeing to Dominik’s condition. “It’s the best way to ensure your protection, Mika—to make the Russians understand you’re not just some passing interest of mine. The Kapranovs needed to know what you mean to me, or they wouldn’t have taken my warning seriously.”

“What warning?” I ask, my pulse quickening.

“I told them that harming you in any way would be an act of war.” Alfie’s voice is hauntingly serious. No hint of his earlier humor lingers on his face.

A shiver races down my spine as I consider exactly what his words mean. More men fighting, and probably dying, all to protect me. “You would go to war for me?”

Alfie’s expression softens, his shoulders relaxing as his eyes hold mine with dark intensity. “I would do anything for you, Mika. I assumed that was obvious by now.”

It’s as close to saying “I love you” as Alfie could get without using those exact words, and my heart hammers at the frank statement as deep emotion wells up inside me. “Why me?” I’m still baffled by the question—what it is about me that triggered his fixation before I even realized how much Alfie could mean to me. From the beginning, I couldn’t understand what could have captured his interest, and when I pushed him away, that only seemed to make him want me more.

“Because you know exactly who you are,” he says sincerely. “You stand by your convictions and speak your mind—even if it’s not what someone wants to hear. You’re passionate, independent, and smart. You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Mika, and you’re so unapologetically you . In a world where I’m constantly surrounded by wealth, vanity, and PR strategies, I find your blunt honesty incredibly refreshing.” He smiles at that last part and reaches across the table to brush his knuckles across my cheek.

Butterflies erupt in my stomach at the soft touch. That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me, and what means the most is that it makes me realize Alfie actually sees me for who I am. He’s attracted to me, not because of what I look like or what he can take from me, and being myself doesn’t chase him away. That makes the prospect of marrying him far less daunting—not to mention, he’s doing it to protect me, and I find that after getting a glimpse of who he really is, I’m far less opposed to the idea than I would have initially believed. It’s ironic in a way. When I first met him, I made such a strong stand against being his side piece. Now, not only has he ended his engagement to another woman for me—creating massive waves in both our worlds in the process—but now he intends to make me his wife.

“How soon are we supposed to get married?” The question comes out breathy, exposing my quaking nerves and the unexpected flicker of anticipation shivering in my core.

Flashing one of his charming smiles, Alfie leans forward to capture my chin. He softly brushes the pad of his thumb over my lower lip, eliciting an electric spark between us, and I press my knees together as the sensual gesture feels far too intimate for dinner.

“When you’re ready.”

Relief floods my veins as the intense heat of his gaze makes me think he might already be ready. I’m surprised as anticipation pools in my belly at the possibility. I never dreamed I could want to marry Alfie—not after getting off on such a wrong foot when we met. I was so confident I hated Alfie. He was the last man in the world I could ever imagine wanting.

Now, I know for certain, he’s the perfect man for me.