Page 59 of Scarlet Vows

She takes a step into the study. “Us?”

“Melor and me.”

She takes one look and then goes downstairs, only to return with Svetlana, who carries a tray of food. Alina has a pitcher of water.

Svetlana puts down the tray, and Alina sets down the water.

“Thank you, Svetlana,” she says.

I hold out my hand. I’m not even sure why. There’s something about distance and friends hovering in my head, at war with me wanting to show her off to Melor. I’m vaguely aware I need to put forth something that proves we’re a couple.

Not PDAs or any such nonsense. But a smile, a moment. One of the things our friendship’s built on.

She bites her lip, holding a blue shirt in one hand, and then comes up to me. She accepts the glass that Melor offers, and she takes a sip. He nods at her.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s so beautiful, the lushness of her lips, the soft silk of her hair. Her eyes that are gold-tinged blue.

She bends into me. “You’re drunk. Good night, Ilya.”

She kisses my cheek and leaves.

My whole body sings as my cheek tingles and throbs with the feel of her soft lips, the flowery scent of her tangling around me.

“She is a good choice,” Melor says. “Beautiful, kind, good Russian stock.”

Like a horse. I hold that one to myself, but whenever anyone says “good Russian stock,” I think of a horse. But she is those things—good heart, soul, and all the other things that make her so fucking special.

“Alina is the best,” I say quietly.

We continue to eat and drink and talk. It’s understood that plans and ideas discussed now are just talk, and it’s good, freeing. But finally, we call it a night.

“Thank you for tonight, Melor.”

“Thank you.” He gets up. “Alek chose you for a reason, Ilya. He was not the type of man to choose blood if it wasn’t in the bratva’s best interests.”

He waves good night then leaves, and I clean up, finishing my vodka and taking the tray back downstairs.

This is the start I’ve been looking for. The beginning I needed.

It was a bonding moment. The needle really shifted, and I think I finally found common ground, an ally.

And now…now I’m determined to prove to everyone I can do this.

Most of all, I want to prove it to myself.

I can be a good leader, a new leader, someone my mother would be proud of.

Chapter Thirteen

ALINA

Last nightwhen I got home, Ilya was drunk. I only know that because I’ve seen him drunk before. I’ve been drunk with him, too. But this was me on the outside looking in, and he was merry, delighted to see me, and… My stomach whooshes.

It hits me hard.

I stretch and get up to take a shower. When I’m dressed for the day in jeans and the shelter T-shirt, the scent of bacon reaches me. I pull my hair back into a ponytail, take the stairs quickly down to the ground floor, and weave my way to the kitchen.

Redoing the place would be fun. Isla loves that sort of thing, too. But I’m not sure the Belov Bratva would recover from a total Alina- and Isla-style makeover.