Chapter 18

Chapter 17

Sophia

TODAY'S THE day.

I scrutinize my reflection.

The woman in the mirror may look like me, but she's a goddamn stranger, an imposter. My outfit is chosen with surgical precision, aiming for inconspicuous yet competent – a simple black dress that grazes my knees, paired with practical flats. Hair yanked back into a no-nonsense bun, makeup barely there. I want to fade into the background, be a fucking ghost, but the sense of exposure, the vulnerability, is too goddamn palpable.

Shit! I'm smack-dab in the middle of a freakin' Russian Bratva war.

My pulse races as I gear up for this godforsaken interview. An interview that might just toss me back into the treacherous world I've been desperately trying to evade. The gig as a nanny at Luka-fucking-Ivankov's mansion – the one man I hoped never to cross paths with again.

Or do I really hope not to?

"Get a move on." Aleks's voice behind me oozes malice, his final warning echoing in my ears. "Don't you dare screw this up, Sophia. You'll get the job, and you'll be my eyes and ears. And remember, if you even think about lying…your precious brother won't see another fucking sunrise."

I shudder at his threat, knowing he means every word. But what he wants from me isn't clear yet. Aleks leans in as if reading my mind, his voice a sinister whisper.

"You're going to get close to Luka Ivankov, little doll. Real close. You'll worm your way into his life, gain his trust, and report every dirty little secret back to me."

"But- how the fuck do I know if Nilo is still alive?"

A malevolent grin spreads across Aleks's face. It's clear he'd anticipated my question. He snaps his fingers, and one of his men dials a number on his phone, connecting us to a video call.

At first, I can't make out the person on the other side of the video, but then I hear a mumble, and my heart lurches. It's Nilo, my brother. He's stick-thin, a shadow of his former self.

"And Wren?" I demand. "What have you done with her?"

"I'll share that information when you have more details on Ivankov for me," he replies snidely.

"You fucking bastard!" I scream at Aleks, my vision blurred with tears.

Nilo's eyes meet mine, but he can't find the strength to speak. I break down, sobbing uncontrollably.

Aleks chuckles, a cold, evil laugh. "Isn't this touching? The love you two have for each other is truly heartwarming."

I feel like a rabbit caught in a snare, my heart pounding, my body trembling, knowing there's no escape from the hunter's lethal grasp. But I can't let my brother die like that, so I steel myself for the inevitable, preparing to be swallowed whole by the darkness that surrounds me.

Aleks's eyes narrow as he issues one last warning. "Oh, and just so we're clear, Sophia, if you even think about breathing a word of this to anyone, everything you love will die. And I'll make sure you watch it all burn to ashes."

I grit my teeth, staring back at him with defiance burning in my eyes. "Fine. I'll do it. I'll be your fucking spy."

The satisfaction in Aleks's eyes is sickening, the smug grin on his face a reminder that I'm now trapped in his twisted game. But as long as my brother is alive, I'll need to make sure I give what Aleks wants.

"Good girl," Aleks sneers. "Remember, I'll be watching your every move."

I take a shaky breath, trying to steady my nerves. "How will I get in touch with you?" I ask, desperate for even the smallest semblance of control.

Aleks chuckles again, his eyes glinting with malicious intent. "Oh, don't you worry, little doll. Someone will reach out to you when the time comes."

The sudden dampness on my cheeks catches me off guard, and I realize that I've been crying like a damn faucet. I swipe the tears away with the back of my hand, taking a deep breath to steady myself. As he leaves my dingy apartment, I sink onto a tattered sofa and struggle to pull myself together.

You can do this, Sophia. There are some blessings to be thankful for.

Nana's condition has finally stabilized, probably because she's too stubborn to let anything keep her down. Damn fighter that she is. Dr. Peguero has moved her to a normal ward – nothing fancy, but at least she's out of the woods for now.

"Your nana's one hell of a fighter, Sophia," Dr. Peguero had said, "Just like you."

I scraped together every last cent of my pitiful savings, which I'd been hoarding for my own education, and used it to pay a portion of her medical bills. I'd been dreaming of studying art, but that ship has apparently sailed off to some distant, unreachable shore. Life just loves to kick you when you're down, doesn't it?

Thud!

Thud!

I'm jolted from the memory by a sudden, hard knock on my apartment door. Hesitantly, I open the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a nasty-looking man.

He's bald, with a face that could only be carved from a lifetime of bad decisions and brutal violence. An acrid stench of sweat and stale cigarette smoke clings to him like a shroud, making my stomach churn. His cold, dead eyes seem to bore right through me as if I'm nothing more than a piece of meat.

"You go now," he grunts, his gravelly voice thickened by a Russian accent.

He lights a cigarette and leans against the wall, impatiently watching as I take one last look around my apartment. "Fast!" he barks, raising his voice this time.

Prick! I curse under my breath but quickly lock up the door, not daring to defy him.

I step into the room, and my eyes instantly land on Luka. He leans casually against a table, dressed in a tailored black suit that hugs his body like a sinful whisper. His still-damp hair looks like he's just emerged from the depths of the ocean.

What, is he trying to be Aquaman or some shit?

The sight of him is making me feel things I haven't felt since… Well, the last time we were together. Standing among the sea of nanny candidates, I try not to be too obvious. Still, the surprise on his face is evident, his eyes widening in recognition as if he never expected me to be there. The shock is tangible.

What's going through his mind?

Our gazes lock, and the intensity between us builds. It feels like the room has shrunk, leaving only the two of us standing in this electric, charged space. We stand in silence, neither of us moving, as if we're caught in an invisible tug-of-war, neither willing to give in.

Jesus, how does he look so fucking irresistible in broad daylight?

It's as if he's a walking, talking wet dream.

"Ahem!" a voice breaks in.

I wrench my gaze from the potent snare of Luka's eyes and redirect my focus to the head maid.

"What?" I ask, feeling a little disoriented.

"Over there," the woman barks at me, her eyes filled with disdain as she gestures to a spot at the back of the line of girls waiting for their interviews.

Shit. She's been such a colossal bitch since she laid eyes on me.

I do my best to avoid Luka's gaze, but it's like trying to resist the pull of gravity. I can't help but sneak a quick glimpse of him, and every time I do, I'm sucked right back in.

He catches my eye, his mouth curling into a wicked, knowing smirk. His eyes latch onto mine, the magnetic intensity between us undeniable. It's as if he's just stumbled upon a treasure he'd long thought lost. I wonder what twisted game he's playing at now. He's staring right at me, his eyes lock onto mine with a magnetic intensity.

When he breaks the stare, it's not much of a reprieve. His gaze slowly travels over my body, lingering on every curve and hollow with a burning hunger that feels as though it could ignite my skin. It's an unapologetic, visceral eye-fuck, and the room feels like it's shrinking under the weight of his lustful scrutiny. His smile is the kind that promises a world of filthy delights, and I shiver at the thought. It's as if he's telepathically undressing me in front of all these people, and, God help me, I'd probably let him.

I feel like a martini – shaken, not stirred – in the presence of a dangerously sexy James Bond. The way he's staring at me is both amusing and nerve-wracking, as if I've accidentally wandered into a steamy, adult spy thriller where I'm suddenly the main attraction.

I can feel his sexual energy pulsing through the room like a throbbing beat. My body instinctively reacts to him, aching for his touch. I peel my gaze from him, desperately trying to pretend I don't know him, but I can still feel his intense stare burning into me like molten lava. My face is practically on fire, but I force myself to look around the room instead.

It's the same freaking room Luka and I screwed each other senseless in, but somehow, it looks even bigger now. I sneak a glance at the lamp in the corner, silently praying that he hasn't discovered the microchip I hid underneath it.

For now, I have to play it cool, act as if we're complete strangers. But with Luka smirking at me like he knows every filthy thought I've ever had about him.

"Thanks for coming," Luka murmurs, his voice sinfully rich, like a devil's whisper that makes a few of the girls stifle nervous laughter. With a deceptively casual grace, he pushes off the table he'd been nonchalantly leaning against. Towering like a force of nature, he strides to the center of the room. He looks like he's about to deliver a dark sermon, but his eyes are locked on me. I try to project an air of confidence and honesty, but my heart races with anxiety. What if he doesn't choose me? What if I don't get the job?

Oh God… Nilo!

"I'm in need of someone who can handle the responsibility of caring for my Yulia," Luka continues, the possessiveness in his tone sparking an unexpected pang of jealousy within me. My Yulia? I wonder who this Yulia is and why her name elicits a feeling of envy in me. A big bad Bratva lord, loving someone? It seems impossible.

"The person I choose will need to assist Yulia with her homework, manage her daily schedule, ensure her safety, and provide emotional support," Luka says, his eyes locked on mine as if daring me to prove my worth. "You will be required to be available 24/7 and live with her at our residence."

His conditions hang in the air like a challenge, and I steel myself, determined to meet his expectations and secure this job. The atmosphere in the room crackles with tension, a tangible mix of curiosity and trepidation. It's as if everyone is holding their breath, and then, from the back of the room, a timid voice pipes up.

"Um, excuse me, sir? How much would we be paid for this job? You know, considering the…um, risks?"

A grin tugs at the corner of Luka's mouth as he looks at the girl who asked the question. "Ah, getting right to the point, aren't you?" he drawls, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and arrogance. "Well, let me put your mind at ease. The salary for this position is $15,000 a month. Cash only."

My stomach twists in a mixture of envy and disbelief as his words sink in. Fuck. It took me three goddamn years to scrape together a measly five-thousand-dollar stash, and here he's offering three times that amount like it's pocket change.

The room erupts into a cacophony of gasps, whispers, and nervous giggles. The girls exchange wide-eyed glances and furtive looks, all too aware of the dangerous world that comes with the territory of working for Luka Ivankov. But no one dares to mention it out loud.

Some girls visibly weigh the risks against the hefty paycheck, while others' expressions harden with determination, clearly ready to take on the challenge. As for me, there's no choice – I need this job, and I'll do whatever it takes, regardless of the risks.

I take a deep breath, trying to quell the embarrassment threatening to consume me. With my hands trembling ever so slightly, I step forward, ready to make my case.

"Ladies and…um…gentleman," I begin, my voice wavering just a touch, "let me tell you why I am the perfect candidate for this job." Inside, I'm dying. But I know I have to sell myself if I want to get this position. I strike a confident pose, hands on my hips, and continue, "First of all, I've changed so many diapers, I could do it blindfolded, in the dark, during an earthquake." I force a laugh, hoping it sounds more genuine than it feels. "I can whip up a gourmet meal that would make even the pickiest eater beg for seconds. And when it comes to Disney princess songs? Honey, I can belt out ‘Let It Go' like Elsa herself."

My face is burning, but I press on, desperate to prove my worth. "But wait, there's more!" I exclaim, imitating an infomercial host. "I am not only a nanny extraordinaire, but I'm also available 24/7 for Yulia. That's right, no breaks, no vacations, just pure, unadulterated dedication!"

"Who the fuck does she think she is?" I can hear some of the other candidates whispering and snickering behind me. I refuse to let them get to me, though. I've got too much on the line to worry about a few catty comments. I keep my focus on Luka, trying to read his reaction.

The head maid, her jaw practically on the floor, stares at me in disbelief. Clearly, she never expected anyone to be this bold. She looks back and forth between me and Luka, waiting for his response just as eagerly as I am.

Luka's gaze remains steady, his expression enigmatic. The tension in the room is suffocating as we all hold our breath, waiting for him to speak. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he shatters the silence.

"What the hell—?" Luka's lips contort into a grin, and his chuckle begins, low and dangerous. It rapidly transforms into boisterous, diabolical laughter that fills the room. His shoulders shake, and his eyes gleam with wicked amusement as he wipes away the tears forming at the corners.

As if on cue, the others chime in. A woman snorts and exclaims, "Oh, God!" while another one gives a mocking guffaw. "I'll be hiding my head under the ground now!" Some hide their snickers behind their hands, while others barely stifle their giggles, shooting gleeful glances at one another.

"Shit," I hiss under my breath. Feeling the heat rise in my cheeks, I grit my teeth and square my shoulders. This was not the reaction I was hoping for. With my chin raised defiantly and my chest puffed out, I challenge Luka, my eyes a silent dare for him to carry on laughing. Inside, I'm seething, but I refuse to let him see how much his amusement has unsettled me.

The moment Luka's laughter dies, the room descends into an eerie silence, as if every breath had been stolen by the devil himself. His predatory gaze latches onto me, and with slow, deliberate steps, he approaches. The heat of his focus feels like a thousand suns scorching my skin, but I refuse to wilt under his scrutiny. My chin lifts higher, and my chest puffs out, daring him to try to break me.

He stops before me, his towering figure casting a shadow that threatens to devour me whole. Our eyes engage in a ferocious battle of wills, and the air between us becomes electric, a storm brewing at the core of our standoff.

I'd rather fucking die than give in to him. But his laughter pissed me off.

Who the hell does he think he is?

Well, okay, he is the boss, of course. But my pride rages, refusing to back down. I've already made a fool of myself, so I might as well see this through to the bitter end. My ego roars, hell-bent on confronting him, consequences be damned. And then he dips his head.

"I've missed you, krasotka," he growls in my ear, his breath hot and heavy on my skin. "You've been away too long."