Page 2 of Innocent Bratva Twins
Unless she’s secretly a dominatrix.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing away the horrific image that flashes through my mind.What the fuck, Nico? Those are not things I ever want to imagine.
Damned intrusive thoughts.
Heading into my office at the corner of the building, two massive glass windows stretching over most of the space, I shrug off my trench coat and hang it on the hook by the door.
I set my laptop down on the desk and stretch my neck, rolling it in a slow circle and feeling the flex of muscles before I sit down. Hopefully, I’ll have time to get to the gym today. Thework I did in the warehouse this weekend was pretty strenuous, but nothing beats a good session with the weights.
Sunlight streams in despite the ice-cold winter air outside. If I don’t look down at the snow-covered streets below and only focus on the sky, I can pretend it was a summer’s day.
I can’t believe it has almost been a year since we lost Grigoriy.
Andrei is still missing. I was never close to Andrei Volo. I met him a handful of times and hardly paid him any attention, but he meant a lot to Grigoriy. He was his best friend, and I know he supported my brother through a lot. His disappearance is my responsibility. I owe that to my brother.
Even with our heavy workload, I've sent search parties out, and every now and then tendrils of information filter in about Andrei, but nothing substantial. Nothing that has led to him being found, dead or alive.
My sister’s husband, Radmir Kuznetsov—his entire family, in fact—is allied with the Dubrovs. And that’s why our business has been booming.
We aren’t particularly close with either family, but the marriage opened doorways and partnerships that have been beneficial.
My family scrapes the surface of the bratva world and how dark it can get. We don’t get involved with that shit as much as possible. The stories I’ve heard about how they do business, and what they do to people who piss them off … It’s pretty fucked up.
I prefer a more diplomatic approach.
Of course, one day, when it comes to avenging my brother’s murder, that will be a different story.
The day both drags and flies by in a busy, crazy, chaotic blur of responsibilities.
The electricity failed in the new office building because of weather issues. The computers we ordered didn’t arrive. On top of that, I’ve been managing the existing office and trying to rally everyone to take on a little more work until we can get the new employees up and running.
It’s fucking chaos.
Glancing at my watch, desperate to take a break and eat something to ease my growing hunger before I turn into a savage—skipping meals never looks good on me—I groan when I note it’s already three.
Miss Brown will be here any second.
Lunch will have to wait.
Coffee will have to fill the void for now.
I stick my head out of the office and call out to Nicole. “Coffee, please. And send Miss Brown in as soon as she arrives.”
I duck back into my office. Shit. I forgot to send the email to Luka. My brother has been asking for that breakdown for days now.
Hurrying to my laptop, I sit down and race against time to get it done.
***
I smell the sweet, warm scent of jasmine washing over me, and it makes me look up.
The woman standing there smiles nervously, looking down at me with her big green eyes glittering and bright.
“I’m sorry, the lady outside told me I should just come in—I should have knocked,” she says, shifting from one foot to the other.
I swear my mouth is hanging open as my eyes graze over her from head to toe.
The baby blue dress she’s wearing is professional, but gorgeous and feminine, hugging her body and complementing every curve—curves I should not be noticing, but it’s impossible to deny how perfectly they are.
