Page 76 of Ruthless Rustanovs

“THEY get along,” Nikolai’s cousin, Alexei, observed as they watched Pavel and Alexei’s son, Aaron, take part in a shooting drill game. It involved the Polar’s star left winger, Brian Atwood, who was acting as goalie.

Aaron was a couple years older than Pavel, but anyone who saw them together at the party likely assumed the light brown boys had known each other forever, the way they talked trash and encouraged each other during the drills in equal parts.

“Da,” Nikolai agreed.

At that moment, Pavel got a shot past Brian—most likely because he was the birthday boy and Brian was trying to get back into Nikolai’s good graces, so that he wouldn’t go through with his threat to trade him to the worst team in the league.

But Aaron treated it like a great feat, dropping his own stick and yelling, “Yeah, cuz! That’s how us Russians do! Act like you know!”

Then he began chanting, “Russia! Russia! Russia!”

Pavel’s classmates, who were still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that there were not one but two biracial half-Russians at this birthday party, stared.

And Alexei’s mouth twitched, his eyes glimmering with amusement, as explained, “The boy takes after his mother.”

Nikolai’s own mouth twitched as he looked to the other side of the rink where Eva was standing with Samantha. The two women had started talking shortly after the cake had been served and much like Pavel and Aaron, they’d immediately hit it off. A half an hour later, they were still chatting away.

Nikolai wasn’t surprised. His wife and the Texan who, much to Nikolai’s consternation, insisted on calling him Nikki and his nephew Pavvy, had a lot in common beyond the color of their skin.

Including backgrounds in social work, gregarious spirits, and Russian husbands.

Of course they had decided to become instant best friends.

His wife had a way of immediately connecting with other women, Nikolai noted. That was probably what made her so good at her job. It also didn’t hurt that she seemed to have a warm smile for everyone she met.

At least everyone but him, he thought, his mind darkening.

“So you married the woman in the green dress,” his cousin said beside him. His eyes stayed on the two half-Russian boys on the ice, but his voice took on a certain chill. “Yet you did not invite your favorite cousin to the wedding. Only to this child’s birthday party.”

“Our wedding was small and quick. This party is much more important. It was time for Pavel to meet you and your family.”

“More important than your wedding? Hmmm,” Alexei chewed on that for a moment and Nikolai felt himself tense up. But then Alexei smoothly continued, “Aaron is glad to have another boy on the American side of the Rustanov family, so we appreciate the invitation to Pavel’s birthday.”

Nikolai had always liked and respected his cousin, but his easy acceptance of Pavel as an official Rustanov, despite the fact that he had no official blood ties to their family, made Nikolai admire him that much more.

“Pavel feels the same, I am sure,” Nikolai answered in Russian.

They stood there for a few moments, watching Aaron and Pavel play with matching fondness, but then Alexei opened his mouth again and totally ruined the moment.

“How far along is she?” he asked Nikolai.

Nikolai respected Alexei too much to pretend he didn’t know what he was talking about, even though he’d never told his cousin Samantha was pregnant.

“Twelve weeks,” he answered. “The blood test says it will be a boy.”

Alexei nodded and said, “Pozdravlyayu.”

Congratulations in Russian.

“Spasibo,” Nikolai answered, hoping that would be the end of this line of conversation.

But after a few moments of thoughtful silence, his cousin said, “Did you get this woman pregnant on purpose?”

Nikolai’s chin dipped low in embarrassment and growing anger, but he answered his cousin truthfully. “Of course not on purpose. It was a surprise. You know I did not want children.”

Alexei tilted his head to the side and gave his cousin another thoughtful look. “I told my Eva I did not want children. I told her this from the start.”

“So you understand,” Nikolai said.

“I told her this, but then I made her pregnant. It was also a surprise. A surprise I have never had with another woman.”

Nikolai who was already well acquainted with Alexei and Eva’s dramatic back story, pursed his lips and asked, “What is your point?”

“I did not like growing up in the Rustanov family. The constant danger, the bodyguards, all the killing. It colored the way I saw the world, and I would not wish that for my children. That is why I refused to have any. But maybe Eva changed my mind, without me knowing it.”

Alexei continued to watch the children skating, but his eyes were in a faraway place as he said, “I did not like growing up a Rustanov, but at least my parents were kind to me. At least they showed me what it was for two people to love each other. That helped.”

Nikolai didn’t reply this time. It was the first time his cousin had ever alluded to the difficulties of growing up a Russian mafia scion, and though Nikolai respected his cousin for turning the Rustanovs into a legitimate business family, he still found it hard to see things from Alexei’s perspective.

Back then, Alexei’s life had seemed perfect, a Russian version of a Norman Rockwell painting.

His parents doted on him, and gave him good memories of them to carry forward even after their untimely deaths.

It was the complete opposite of how Nikolai had grown up, making it difficult for him on the few occasions his father had brought him to the Rustanov’s palatial estate in Rublevka.

Alexei regarded him with a sad smile. “I will make a confession to you now. Your father scared me as a little boy, and also as a young man. I often took solace in the fact that he was only my uncle, and I felt very sorry for you and Fedya, especially after what happened with your mother. Even sorrier now, because Fedya did not make it.”

Nikolai flinched, Alexei words a sharp knife twisting in his gut. He’d always suspected his cousin regarded him as an object of pity, that finally accepting him into the Rustanov family was an act of pity, and now here was his confirmation.

But the flinch was the only thing Alexei got from him. After that small movement, Nikolai blanked his face and said, “Thank you for your thoughts. But I keep the past in the past. My father does not concern me now.”

“So you say,” Alexei continued to regard him, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You know, I made a lot of mistakes with Eva because of my past. Mistakes I deeply regret now that she is the mother of my children.”

Alexei shook his head, wincing as if the memories of his and Eva’s tumultuous relationship still caused him pain.

“I do not know what is wrong between you and this woman, but I see she does not talk to you, does not look at you while we are all here together. Whatever it is that is wrong, you need to fix it. Before the baby comes.”

Alexei and Nikolai were no longer boys. Alexei was no longer a mafia prince, and Nikolai was no longer in line to replace his father as the Rustanov family’s enforcer. Alexei had no right to talk to him this way. No right at all.

Nikolai’s fist clenched at his side.

“Hit me if you want,” Alexei told him calmly. “But it is still the truth. You must fix this. She is a good woman. Funny, like my Eva. And you are full of pride, like me. But trust me, pride has no place in relationships and I promised you this, if you do not get over yours, you will lose her.”

The thought of losing Samantha, of her taking the baby with her as she had threatened before, tore at him worse than a nightmare and it rooted him to the spot in horror. Because Alexei’s words didn’t feel like a warning, but a promise.

A promise of things to come.

“I would like another piece of cake,” Alexei decided out loud. “And then I will take my family and we will go. But think about what I said, Nikolai.”

Alexei left then, heading towards the cake table, and Nikolai was left alone. Still a little boy, still unable to defend himself when confronted with an opponent he couldn’t punch or knock down or kill.

He watched Alexei walk away, his words of answer stuck in his throat. I am trying. I am. But… I am not sure it can be fixed.

“Mr. Rustanov?”

Nikolai turned around to see Isaac standing there.

“Just checking in,” his assistant said. “The party’s scheduled to end in twenty minutes. Is there anything else you want me to do before I give everyone a fifteen warning?”

Nikolai thought about it. Thought about what his cousin had said, and answered, “Da, I have one thing more for you to do.”

“Hello, Mrs. Rustanov!” Isaac’s voice called out behind Sam, just as she was about to take Layla into her arms.

Alexei and Eva’s one-year-old had somehow cuted them into a game of pass-the toddler-back-and-forth, and it was now Sam’s turn to hold the adorable nugget for up to a full minute before she started squirming to be handed back to her mother.

Or maybe more, Sam thought, cuddling the toddler in her arms. Depending on whatever Isaac had to talk with Eva about.

Eva grinned at her, though. “I think he’s talking to you.”

And Sam turned to see that yes indeed,, Isaac was clearly waiting for her attention.

“Oh… hi, Isaac. You can just keep on calling me Sam. Just Sam, seriously,” she said, wondering if she’d ever get used to people calling her by Nikolai’s last name.

Isaac gave her an uncomfortable smile. “Okay… Sam,” he said. “Mr. Rustanov has an all-day event he’d like you attend the Friday after next, and he asked me to make sure you clear your calendar for it.”

Sam remembered what she’d said to Nikolai the last time they’d had a full conversation. We’re more like project partners and I don’t sleep with my project partners. So if you have an event or a work obligation you need me to attend. Fine. That’s what I signed up for. But I’m sleeping on the couch.

Apparently Nikolai had taken her at her word. “What kind of event?” she asked Isaac.

Isaac shook his head with a shrug. “You know, he actually hasn’t told me yet, just asked me to give you a heads up. Also, I’ll need your passport for security clearance purposes. I assume you have one. Can you send it in with Mr. Rustanov in the next day or so?”

“Sure, ” Sam answered. “But I need to know what the event is. Like, what should I wear, because I’ll probably need to shop…”

“Nope, I’ll take care of all that and coordinate with Nyla on childcare,” Isaac answered, already backing away. “Just clear your calendar. Thanks!”

He was gone before Sam could ask any more questions or tell him Nyla was officially an intern, not her assistant.

Again. Isaac was forever insisting on “coordinating” through Nyla, as if it were somehow anathema to him to talk directly to Sam herself.

He was like the walking personification of “have your people call my people.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a hot date,” Eva said with a wink. “Good idea to get them out of the way now, because trust me, hot dates become mighty hard once breastfeeding comes into play.”

Sam shook her head, “Oh, it’s nothing like that. It’s probably just an NHL thing or something. Nikolai doesn’t do hot dates. Or any dates whatsoever.”

Eva lifted a brow. “Wow, really? Now that I’ve finished breastfeeding, Alexei’s always pressuring me to let our nanny take over for the weekend so we can do a hotel getaway.”

Sam really liked Eva, she really did. Not just because they were both black women married to Russians—which had been huge but pleasant surprise—but also because she had a wicked sense of humor that reminded Sam of how she used to be back in Alabama, when she’d only had the running of one Ruth’s House on her plate.

But as much as she liked Eva, it was hard to keep her jealousy at bay when she said things like that.

Before she met Eva and her husband, she blamed Nikolai’s cold behavior on his cultural background.

But his cousin, Alexei, who shared the same culture and was even part of the same family as Nikolai, was incredibly devoted to his wife.

So in love with her that Sam wasn’t surprised when he appeared out of nowhere with another piece of birthday cake.

“Share this with me, kotenok,” he said.

Eva groaned, “C’mon, Lexie, you know I’m still trying to lose all this baby weight.”

“I like your baby weight,” he all but growled at her, pulling her closer with one large arm. “Tonight after the children are asleep, I will show you how much I like it.”

Eva giggled and shook her finger at him. “You are like the anti-Weight Watchers! I’m going to tell on you to my meeting leader.”

“Eat the cake, kotenok. For me.” Then he leaned down and let loose a stream of Russian words that didn’t sound at all cold. No, not cold at all—especially with the way he was looking at Eva as he said them.

Eva groaned again. “You know I can’t think right when you start talkin’ all romantic in Russian. That is so unfair!” she said.

Then she opened her mouth, and Alexei popped a piece of cake inside.

Sam, who still had little Layla in her arms, watched the exchange from the corner of her eyes in self-conscious silence.

They were a totally cute couple, but completely sickening to watch.

Overly sweet, and even worse, they made Sam wish for things.

Things she knew she could never have. Like Nikolai’s heart.