Page 7 of Scarlet Vows

“Doesn’t Demyan have a sister?”

Isaak knows damn well Demyan has a sister.

“Do you have a death wish?” I ask.

He holds up his hands. “I meant for you.”

“We’re friends, and this is you deflecting, Isaak.” I grin as he looks at his expensive watch. “Hot date?”

“I don’t even have time for a shower. Thank fuck it’s a Zoom meeting.”

We head to the locker rooms. I need a shower, so I grab my gear from my locker and nab a fresh towel.

“Drinks soon, man.”

Isaak nods, changing into his suit quickly. “I’ll check my schedule,” he says as he knots his tie. “Work’s crazy at the moment, Ilya. Back-to-back fucking meetings, deals to nail. But we’ll find a time outside the gym.”

“You work too hard, my friend,” I say, shaking my head as I loop the fresh towel around my neck.

Isaak laughs and raises a brow. “Like you can talk. At least I’m reaping my own rewards. Living the dream in my penthouse in Lakeview. I don’t have to live in someone else’s shadow.”

It’s an old argument we always have, and I know at its core, beneath the friendly ribbing, Isaak thinks I do too much for Demyan. But to explain it all involves going too deep, so I laugh it off. We’re in different worlds, and to equate our jobs in the same view is inherently wrong.

He smooths a hand over his hair. “I have to go, bro.”

“See you Friday.” I wave him off.

We don’t meet every single morning, but we have set days to keep us grounded. Me, I need the routine of everyday workouts. But when I’m not hanging in the gym or taking a morning class with Isaak, I’m still working out, either here, the boxing gym, or at Demyan’s.

Speaking of…I also need to get out of here.

I grab a shower, letting the heat ease the burn in my muscles, as the day’s priorities come at me.

With Demyan away, I’ve got more on my plate, but instead of freaking me out, or delegating like some would, I thrive on it.

Less time idle is less time spent stressing, and it adds even more structure to my world. I take the unexpected as treats.

Maybe that’s fucked up. But like the shootout, the interrogation, and subsequent takedown of the bad actors, a part of me thrives on that too. Spilling blood, getting physical. Tangible results are a treat.

A lot of that is my normal job when Demyan’s here, as well as working with him, strategizing, working out the details of plans. I’ve always done admin, looked over books to make sure all is up to scratch. We both agree that two sets of extra eyes help.

But now I’m in his shoes, to a point. I’ve stepped right into the admin he does, and I’m honored my friend, my brother not of blood, accepted my offer of help.

Of course, the admin side, the bigger, deeper job I have now, means spending more time at Demyan’s mansion.

He doesn’t have an office he goes to every day, although there is a Yegorov Foundation office that he will go to on occasion, as well as the more oblique Yegorov Industries one.

But Demyan is head of this bratva. A home office is perfect.

I could, I guess, use either office outside the mansion if I wanted to. But I’m not doing sensitive admin outside of the security of the mansion.

Besides, me being at Demyan’s on a daily basis means seeing Alina. Keeping an eye on her.

I could go back to how pretty she is and not tire of the subject, but I’ve known her forever. She’s not only Demyan’s,a man I consider family, my closest friend’s sister, but she’s also a close friend, too.

I love them both.

And Alina… For someone so young and sheltered in our violent world, losing Max has been hard on her. We’ve become very close following his death.