“Moira wait,” I yell, but she can really be speedy when she wants to be, and she’s already grabbing her heels and opening the front door. “Please,” I holler, knowing I can’t chase her out into the street since I’m still butt-ass naked.
She turns to look at me, and the pain and anger in her eyes nearly knocks me on my ass. “I should have fucking known you’d be a giant ass about this!”
“Just come back in and we’ll talk about it,” I say, trying to sound as calm as possible.
“I saw the look of disgust on your face. Just leave me the fuck alone, Nik!” She spits the Nik out, and hearing her go from saying Kolya in such a sweet, loving voice to having Nik screamed at me again in that same cold tone she used to use with me has me feeling like I can’t fucking breathe. I watch as she walks out of my house, leaving me more alone than I’ve ever felt and knowing I’d give anything if it meant I could go back in time and change how I handled things.
A fucking virgin! How the hell had I not known that? I know I have no right to feel as cheated as I do, but I can’t help it. I wish I’d known. I would’ve been more gentle. I would’ve made sure she was okay and not in any pain. Instead, I made her so sore she winced the next morning. God, I’m such an asshole. I’m so furious with myself I can barely think. I storm back upstairs, ignoring the bed that I can’t even stomach to look at right now and instead go into the bathroom for a shower.
When I’m out and dressed, I grab my phone and try to call Moira. She doesn’t answer, just like I knew she wouldn’t. I send her a text, begging her to talk to me. I’m just about to grab my keys and go to her club when my phone rings. My heart races at the sound, hoping like hell it’s Moira, but when I see Vadim’s name pop up I let out an angry growl.
“Yeah, what is it?” I ask, not even bothering to hide how pissed I am.
He laughs at my tone and responds in Russian. “I take it you forgot about our meeting. You know, the one you asked me for.”
I let out another groan and look at my watch. I’d completely forgotten about the meeting we’d set up so I could talk to him about Mikhail’s request.
“Fuck,” I say, running a hand through my hair in frustration as I look around for my damn keys. “Can we reschedule?”
“Not unless you want to wait another month.”
“Seriously, Vadim?”
He laughs again, probably just because he knows how much it will piss me off, and says, “Sorry, I’m actually a pretty awesome lawyer that’s in high demand. Unless this is an absolute emergency, like your ass is sitting in a jail cell right this second, then it’ll have to wait a month or more if you can’t get here in about thirty minutes. Lucky for you, I’m on this side of the lake today.”
I desperately want to push the meeting back so I can go to Moira, but I know I can’t put this off. I don’t know how long Mikhail’s generosity is going to last, and I can’t have him changing his mind and involving Dima if he thinks I’m ignoring him.
“Fine, I’m on my way,” I say, hanging up before Vadim can even respond. If he’d been in his other office across the lake, I never would’ve been able to make the appointment. Even with thirty minutes and having him closer, it takes me almost that long to get there because of traffic. By the time I pull into the parking garage, I’m beyond stressed and hanging on by a damn thread.
It must show because the young blonde at the counter when I walk in doesn’t even attempt her usual flirting. She takes one look at me, and picks up the phone to let Vadim know I’m here. I give her a nod and sit down in the waiting room. I alternate between tapping my fingers against the arms of the chair and aimlessly flipping through an old sports magazine that I can’t even manage to read a word of. The morning with Moira keeps replaying in my mind until I feel like I’m going to lose my damn mind. I’m just about to get up and walk out when the receptionist says, “You can go back now, Mr. Sokolov.”
The best I can manage to give her is a curt nod as I walk through the frosted glass doors and down the hall that will lead me to Vadim’s huge office. The man has definitely done well for himself. He’s worked hard to earn a reputation as a trustworthy lawyer who knows every loophole known to man and isn’t afraid to take cases where everyone knows the client is guilty as fuck. He’s gotten a lot of those guilty fuckers off scot-free and been paid very well for his efforts.
Without bothering to knock, I open his office door and roll my eyes at the elaborate cherry-wood desk that takes up the majority of the room. Two plush leather chairs are positioned in front of it, and I take the one closest to me. Vadim looks up from the paper he’s signing and sits back in his office chair. I’m guessing the leather monstrosity cost him several thousand dollars. He’s dressed impeccably in a dark suit as usual, and the grin he shoots me is as white and perfect as any model in a magazine.
“Glad you could make it,” he says, resting his elbows on his chair and steepling his fingers. “What’s this about?”
I’m not surprised he cuts right to the chase. His schedule is always hectic, but he’s never failed to drop everything when we’ve truly needed it. He’s paid well for it, of course, but it’s still nice to know he’s there when we need him.
I don’t know how to ease my way into this, so I don’t even bother trying. I look at him and say, “Mikhail Fedorov paid me a visit.”
Vadim’s eyes narrow, but other than that, he shows no signs of surprise. The man’s a true professional. “What about and does Dmitri know?”
Dima and I are both private about our pasts, but all the guys know it was Ilya Fedorov who ordered the hit on his brother. I sigh and say, “No, of course not.” Leveling my eyes on his, I add, “And it better damn well stay that way.”
Vadim smiles, but it doesn’t even come close to reaching his eyes. “You and I both know I’m a man who knows how to keep secrets; otherwise, I would’ve been killed long ago.”
“True enough.” I get out my phone and find the message Mikhail sent me soon after our visit. I skim through it again and say, “He asked me if you could help out someone he owes a favor to. Apparently, it’s someone you have a bad history with. Seems his daughter is going to need your help in the near future, so he’s asked Mikhail to convince you to set bad blood aside and help her out since he’s heard you’re the best.”
Vadim gives a nod of his head as if to sayDuh.
“Always so humble,” I mutter, looking back at the text.
“Who is he?” Vadim asks, leaning forward and giving me that hungry look that lawyers always seem to get when they smell a shit ton of money headed their way.
“Igor Vasiliev.”
I’ve barely got his name out before Vadim is barking out a harsh laugh and cursing the man in some very creative Russian slang. “That fucker can rot in hell for all I care,” he says when he’s finished insulting the guy’s mother.