Page 32

Chatter and laughter echo around the table, even though Kirill says little to nothing and only when Viktor, who’s sitting at his right, engages him.

Karina is on his left, and I’m beside her, listening to how excited she is and that she couldn’t sleep last night.

The entire time, I steal glances at Kirill. I don’t know if he’s okay with this or just pretending for the sake of Karina and Anna.

The general laughter and clinking of plates stop when Yulia and Konstantin walk into the party. She’s wearing black today as if it’s a funeral and stomps her foot on the floor upon seeing the guards at the dinner table.

“What’s the meaning of this?”

Karina turns and clears her throat. “It’s…uh…you…see…today is…well, Kirill’s…birth…”

“Get it together, you idiot. Don’t you know how to form sentences?”

Tears gather in Karina’s eyes before they stream down her delicate face. Her lips clamp shut, and all her carefree energy disappears.

“Mother, no.” Konstantin shakes his head.

“What? She was talking like an idiot.”

“You’re the one who turned her into what she is.” Kirill rises to his full height and holds Karina by the shoulder. “If you talk to her in that tone again, I’m going to throw you out of the house.”

“What did you just say to me?”

“I have full ownership of this place. If you don’t respect my people in it, you’ll be out in a fucking instant and I’ll make it my mission to burn each and every one of your designer bags.” He stares at his brother. “Take her away from here. I don’t want to see her face.”

Konstantin’s jaw clenches, but he starts to drag a fussy Yulia away. I could tell he was extremely uncomfortable with the way she spoke to Karina, too.

“How dare you kick me out? I’m the one who gave birth to you, you insolent piece of trash—”

The door closes behind them, and Kirill smiles down at Karina. “Don’t believe anything that woman says. Just because she gave birth to us doesn’t make her a mother, okay?”

She nods twice, smiling back, and even hugs him.

Then she pulls back to run to the other side of the room and brings back a huge black box wrapped in white ribbons. The present is a tailored tuxedo with gorgeous matching shoes and a dress shirt.

Did she spend a fortune on this? Definitely.

Anna also gives him her gift, a scarf that she knitted herself. The guys offer him cards with services he might ask of them on their days off—as if he can’t do that already.

Kirill smiles at that, but it disappears when he finds a similar card from me in the pile.

So I kind of had to do the same as the others in order to not stand out. Only Karina and Anna gave him personal gifts, after all.

There’s also a third gift, a luxurious watch that Karina swears isn’t from her, but she’s the only one in this house who’s rich enough to be able to buy it.

While they’re busy arguing about the watch and Maksim calling Karina humble, then Viktor hitting him and Yuri scolding him, I slip out of the dining room and head to the bathroom with a huge smile on my face.

Not to jinx it, but I think this birthday is a success.

After I finish my business, I wash my hands and freeze when I catch Kirill’s reflection in the mirror. He’s leaning against the doorframe, legs crossed, as he toys with the card I slipped him with the ones from the other guards.

“So this is all I get for a huge birthday that you nearly broke your leg to have me attend?”

I let the water drip from my hands into the sink for a minute, then face him while I dry them with the towel. “That card can mean many things. Use it wisely.”

“I have so many cards. What if I lose this special birthday gift?”

I grin. “Stop being an asshole. I actually got you another gift, but I couldn’t show it to you in front of everyone else.”

He raises a brow. “Another gift? Where is it?”

I bite my lower lip, then I unbuckle my pants. The sound of rustling clothes is so heightened in the silence that I nearly chicken out.

In one go, I lower my boxer briefs so that he can see the black ink surrounded by redness right above my pussy.

Kirill straightens, his expression turning into one of bewilderment as he walks up to me, grabs me by the hip, and gently touches his fingers along the Russian word.

Luchik’s.

“Fuck,” he lets out in a voice filled with awe. “When did you get this done?”

“This morning.”

“When you were supposed to be with Karina?”

I nod.

He narrows his eyes, and his grip tightens on my hip, his fingers digging into it. “Did a man ink your skin, Sasha? Did you let a man look at what’s fucking mine?”

“No, you caveman. It was a woman.”

“Name? Credentials? Location?”

“So you can cause her trouble? Absolutely not. But anyway. You didn’t tell me what you think? Do you…like it?”

“I love it. Should’ve engraved my name on you a long time ago, but it would have been done sloppily with a knife.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re such a romantic.”

“I know.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“I know.” His gaze is still lost in the tattoo as he traces it back and forth.

I’m such a wimp. I had to take three strong painkillers before I could let the girl ink me. I’m never getting a tattoo again. I can’t understand how Kirill and the others have managed to have maps inked on their bodies.

“Now, I want to see it up close and personal while I’m fucking your brains out.” He grabs me by the arm. “Let’s go.”

“No.” I try to pull my hand free and fail. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“There’s a party for you, remember?”

“Party is over then.”

“Kirill, no. Everyone will be so sad.”

“Not my problem.”

“Okay, wait. Wait! If you stay for at least two hours, I’ll tell you my real birthday.”

He raises a brow. “One hour.”

“One and a half.”

“Deal.” He pauses. “When is your birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Really?”

I nod.

He reaches into his jacket, then grabs my hand and clasps a stainless steel bracelet on my wrist.

“How…” I trail off.

“I’ve had it since last year and was only going to give it to you when you told me your actual birthday.”

“Have you…been carrying it on you all this time?”

“Maybe.”

Oh, wow. I think my heart is melting at his feet as we speak.

“It has a sniper rifle on it.” I touch the engraved image and then gasp at the writing in Russian. “And Sasha!”

“It’s also unisex.”

I hug him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

His arm wraps around the small of my back. “Happy Birthday, Solnyshko.”

Tears rim my eyes. I thought I would never celebrate my birthday again, but Kirill has proved me utterly wrong.

I want to celebrate all my upcoming birthdays by his side.