Shifting in my seat, I recall Andrei’s warning to keep details of my mission quiet. “Nothing in particular. Andrei thinks I could be an asset at some point in the future.” I shrug. She nods, but intense eyes keep their focus on me.
Memories of the conversation we had yesterday come back to me. She’s new here. Which means she may not be as loyal to the Kozlovs as Natalia, and maybe, just maybe, I can rely on her to help me escape. During my time here it’s become abundantly clear that Andrei runs a tight ship, and that includes the armed guards, cameras and god knows what other security measures that I don’t know about.
Time is slipping and if I am going to escape and find my father, it has to be soon—before Oleg comes out of hiding and Andrei’s plan moves into overdrive.
The next chance I get, even if it means resorting to something out of character, I’ll take it.
I push back my half eaten breakfast and turn to face Piper. “You said you're new here, huh? How did you come to work for the Kozlovs?” I can’t imagine one of the most powerful bratva families hires through the usual household staffing agencies.
“I worked for a royal household in Luxembourg for the last year. Natalia found me through a connection there. Monarch royalty and mafia royalty aren’t so different. They demand the same thing from the people that work for them: complete discretion and absolute loyalty.”
Loyalty—that tricky word.
I take a last sip of coffee and rise from my seat to stretch my sore limbs. The training over the last few days has finally caught up with me. Soreness imbues every step. My thighs burn as I step into yoga pants, my arms so stiff that I abandon a sports bra, and choose to wear a tight fitting tank top instead. With my hair pulled up in a messy bun, I slip my feet into trainers and wish Piper a good day, heading out the door for a punishing day of training.
As usual, Mikhail is my ever present guard shadowing me, accompanying me through my day, but rarely speaking. Today I joke with him it's like I’m enrolled in bad-ass spy school, but his face remains stony as he ushers me through the basement doors of the house to a small clearing in the woods.
“What’s going on?” I ask, but of course get no response. In the distance, I can see some makeshift target practice set up against a tree.
I’m not sure why they think being in the great outdoors might convince me to pick up a gun, but it won’t.
Probably not.
Ok, the thing is, I’ve reconsidered my no-gun stance. I still think they are evil, but I have to be smart. If I find a chance to escape, a gun might come in handy, but only if I know how to use it. I’ve reluctantly come to the realization it’s time for me to suck-it-up buttercup and learn how to use a death ray.
I square my shoulders, ready to surprise Boris with my newfound willingness, but instead I am greeted by the wide shoulders and powerful muscles of a very familiar back.
Shit.
He turns and gives me a slow, seductive smile.
“Good morning, krasotka, I’ll be your firearms instructor today.”
* * *
ANDREI
Georgia stands frozen in place as if she’s just stumbled face first into the villain in a James Bond movie. Not a surprise considering I have more in common with a movie villain than Mr. Bond.
“Come closer. I won’t bite.” I may not make good on that promise, but I offer nonetheless. A Cheshire grin overtakes my face as she shuffles forward like a lamb towards slaughter.
Her gray eyes are chips of ice as she stares at me. “I’m not scared, just wasn’t expecting you this morning, that’s all. What happened to Boris?”
“I gave him the day off.” I flick my gaze up at her from the Glock that I’m polishing. “I thought it would be more effective if you had a more dominant instructor. You don’t seem inclined to follow Boris’s rules, but you’ll follow mine.”
Heat momentarily flares in her eyes, but just as quickly as it appears, it’s gone, replaced by an eye roll. “I’m surprised that a big, important mob boss like yourself has nothing better to do than to teach me how to hold a gun, oh, and to break up dance parties.”
Ah, she’s still sore about last night. I wondered how much she remembered. I guess this is my answer.
She remembers everything.
And so do I. The way she smelled, the way she looked, damn, the way she danced. How she swayed her hips to the rhythm of the music last night—lost to the beat, and looking so happy—it was nearly my undoing. Maybe that’s what crawled under my skin—she lookedhappy, and it wasn’t because of me.
Daniil earned himself a black eye in the boxing ring this morning for the shit he pulled last night. Not only getting Georgia drunk—though I’m pissed about that—but also scheming behind my back. My brothers think my attraction to her clouds my head, and maybe that’s true, but fuck them. They’re not the boss, I am.
My gaze locks with Georgia’s, and something unreadable stirs in her remarkable eyes. The edge of my lips curl up into a smile. “I don’t make a habit of breaking up dance parties, no, but then again, it hasn’t really been an issue until you showed up.” She huffs a small laugh, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “And as for your training, I think my help is more than necessary.”
She purses her lips. “I was doing just fine with Boris.”