Chapter 13: Chapter 13

Vadik

“Look who it is,” my brother says, rising from the dining table to pull out Charleigh’s chair. “I understand you’ve built quite the fan club.”

Tossing her hair with a laugh, she lets Kir push her chair in. She places her napkin on her lap to cover the fact that her skirt is ridiculously short and pulls her shoulders back like she runs around in strapless tops all the time.

She’s playing like she’s cool with everything happening around her, but she’s not fooling anyone. Well, maybe my smitten younger brothers, but I know there’s no way anyone like this girl adjusts to our world inside of a few days of being exposed to it.

No matter the sumptuous digs and good food we’ve plied her with.

It will take time for her to comprehend all that’s going on around her. And to accept what comes her way.

With the four of us at the table, I holler for Chef, who begins to serve our lunch.

We start with a tasty little amuse-bouche shot glass of some sort of delicious soup, followed by a delicious pan-seared salmon and a tangy frisée salad. It’s the perfect midday meal, like Chef always makes for us, and it will leave me satisfied, but not overly full.

I don’t like to overeat at lunch. It messes up the rest of my day. Actually, I don’t even like fancy meals like ones that include an amuse-bouche, but when Papa arrived from Russia, he fell in love with a famous French restaurant that served them. Thereafter, he required Chef to serve one at every meal, except breakfast, of course.

They’re a lot of work for one bite of food, and personally, I’d be happy with a turkey sandwich for lunch, but that’s just me.

“Who is this Dimitri guy? What’s his deal?” Charleigh asks. Her voice is casual, like she’s asking what time it is.

But her intent is not.

Got to give her credit for persistence. The first time she tried to initiate a conversation about him, none of us responded. I figure she got the message, not to ask too many questions. After all, we invited her to lunch to get to know her better, not the other way around.

But when she brings it up again, I see she either didn’t read between the lines, or she did and doesn’t care. I’m not sure what she’s on about—whether she’s trying to provoke us guys or is just genuinely curious about the asshole.

I decide to give her the benefit of the doubt. If she has questions, she’ll get answers. Although she might not like what she hears.

But that’s on her.

I glance her way and see she’s finished her entire lunch in the time it’s taken my brothers and me to barely eat half of ours. She must have been starving. I make a mental note to talk to Chef about making sure she’s well-fed. If left to Dominika, the girl will be lucky to get prison rations.

Niko notices how fast she cleaned her plate too. “Enjoy your lunch, Charleigh?” he asks.

Her eyes fall closed. “Oh my god. It was amazing. I’ve only ever had salmon one other time before and it wasn’t very good. This was amazing and I was starving.”

As soon as she says that, her hand flies to her mouth, like she didn’t mean to admit to her hunger.

Niko doesn’t like that. “God, Charleigh, sounds like we haven’t been feeding you enough. We won’t let that happen again.”

That’s Niko. Always looking out for the wounded birds.

But hell, I don’t want her hungry, either. She’s worth a lot to us guys—to the entire club—and it won’t do to leave her underfed.

“Anytime you want anything to eat, Charleigh,” Niko continues, “just holler. Chef can fix you something on a moment’s notice. Anything you want. Okay?”

She nods gratefully and takes a pretend sip of her wine.

Interesting.

I am about to correct Niko, point out to him that no one gets free rein of the kitchen, but decide not to shit on his moment of kindness. For the first time since we sat for lunch, Charleigh seems genuinely relaxed. Not worried about what’s around the next corner.

She would do well not to get too relaxed. But it’s not the time to bring that up.

“Charleigh, in answer to your question, Dimitri’s father and ours were business partners. They opened this club together as well as many of the other businesses that we run to this day. Dimitri’s dad, when he died, left the club and everything to our dad rather than his son. You see, Dimitri is somewhat of a bum. Spends his father’s money jetting around the world like a general party boy.”

That’s putting it kindly. The guy is a useless dirtbag of the first degree.

Charleigh looks at me, her eyes wide. “I take it he didn’t like that too much.”

I press my lips together and nod. Understatement of the century. The guy’s resentment is legendary. But it’s of his own doing. There’s no one else to blame.

Kir continues. “You’re right. Not only didn’t he like it one bit, his obsession with being passed over has caused him to… make some bad decisions over the years.”

“Like murdering our parents,” I say.

* * *

Vadik

The room is silent. Not even a fork clangs against a plate.

“He was responsible for your parents’ death?” Charleigh whispers, swallowing hard.

I hesitate, never sure I want to talk about this. It’s been two years, but it still feels like yesterday. I brought it up, though, so I’ll finish the story. “We haven’t proven he was behind it yet. But we’ve always been certain it was him.”

“It’s just a matter of time, though. Someday he’ll trip up, maybe admit to it, maybe not, but he’ll pay,” Kir adds, looking across the room with a blank stare. “The worst of it is that our dad felt sorry for Dimitri and to honor his longtime friend, tried to look after him once his father passed. Papa was so kind to him. Both our parents were. And look at how they were treated in the end…”

Kir stops. There’s really not much more to say.

My jaw twinges, and I realize I’ve been grinding my teeth. Something I never did before my parents were killed.

“Charleigh, stay away from that guy. He’s a predator. He comes near you, tell us,” Niko says.

She nods silently, her eyes wide.

Yeah, she’s in a totally new world now. She might not see what’s ahead, but she sure as hell knows it’s not going to be like anything she’s ever known.

Her eyes get glossy and her nose starts to pink. She sniffles hard and clears her throat, chasing away the threatening tears. Her relaxed demeanor of a few minutes ago has all but faded. “What happened, when your parents died?” she asks quietly. “The ones I was at the funeral for? Something about a fire?”

Again, the room’s silent except for Chef’s assistant, who clears our plates.

“Yes. There was a fire. Whoever set it targeted the room where our parents were sleeping. It spread so fast they didn’t even make it to the bedroom door when they tried to escape,” I say matter-of-factly, forcing myself to breathe.

In, out, in, out.

The fire was no doubt the work of a professional. Dimitri didn’t do it himself. He’s far too stupid to pull off anything like that. I’m certain he hired someone. Someone who knew just what they were doing.

“That’s where I first saw you,” I say, looking straight at Charleigh. “Your father came to pay his respects at the funeral. You were on the other side of the room.”

What a time that was. Visitors, calls, flowers. Meetings with lawyers, sorting out the will. And then there was the food people sent. So much, it was ridiculous. We did not eat a single bite of it. Whoever got rid of our parents might want to get rid of my brothers and me, next.

Looking down at her hands, Charleigh shakes her head. “I’m so sorry.”

She might not specifically recall me from that day, but I do her, in a simple black dress and scuffed shoes. She was out of place, on one hand, not dressed as nicely as the rest of the crowd pouring through the receiving line. But she was also one of the few who wasn’t there with her hand out, so to speak. She wasn’t asking for anything, like so many others were.

Kir rolls his shoulders and his neck cracks loudly. “After Papa died, our incompetent uncle took over the club. And now he’s gone.”

“Gone?” Charleigh asks. “Like deceased, gone?”

If only.

“Oh no,” Niko snickers. “He fled the country on tax evasion charges. We don’t know where he is. But he left us a mess to clean up. He made off with a lot of the club’s cash, so we’re trying to put the place back together, so to speak.”

Charleigh’s lips press together. It’s dawning on her that she’s part of this rebuilding too. So to speak.

Actually, she’s a huge part of it.

I pour a second glass of wine, carefully paired with the meal by Chef—another fancy requirement of Papa’s that’s still in practice for some inane reason. I rarely have more than one drink at lunch, but after our run in earlier with the scumbag Dimitri, I figure I’ve earned a bonus one. My brothers clearly feel the same and gesture for me to top them off. Charleigh is the only one who took no more than a taste of hers. She thinks this goes unnoticed, but it does not, at least not by me. I miss nothing. Knowing what the hell is going on around me at all times is part of what’s made me successful. Kept me alive.

She might think she’s smart by not drinking. Keeping her wits about her, as if that might benefit her in some way. But she’s not smarter than my brothers and me. Few people are.

After learning more about our lives than she probably bargained for in one sitting, she looks small at our table, her shoulders slumped, her arms crossed. A defensive posture if ever there was one.

I want to take her in my arms.

Fuck all. This isn’t like me. Not one bit.

But I’m willing to take a chance. “Charleigh, come over here, please,” I say, patting my thigh.

I’m not sure how she’ll react to this, but I have to say, she’s just so fetching across the table, whether she’s closed off or not.

Watching her has left me with a slight midday hard-on that I need to get under control.

Or not.

She looks around, first at my brothers and me, like she’s not sure whether I’m serious. Then, to my surprise, she shrugs, gets to her feet, and makes her way over to my side of the table, slightly wobbly in the high heels she’s still not particularly graceful in.

I push my chair out and take her onto my lap. While she’s tall, she feels small in my arms, I suppose because she’s on the skinny side. She folds herself into me and presses her head to my chest, eyes closed.

To say I’m surprised is an understatement. But I’m pretty sure she does little that’s not premeditated, and that she thinks she’s pulling one over on me. That’s okay, though. We’re going to have a little fun.

I inhale her scent, which stirs something unfamiliar in me. I’m used to women being perfumed to the ends of their hair, overly made up, and eager to please because they expect something in return.

Charleigh might learn to think like that someday. But for now, in her innocence, she has no idea how her beauty can be used as currency. She still believes in merit. Getting ahead with honest hard work. Without cheating or taking shortcuts. Acting with honor. And integrity.

So naïve.

I push her thick hair aside, baring her skin, and run a finger over the warm crook of her neck. In spite of whatever she might have up her sleeve, she nestles deeper into my arms and emits a sigh. She’s happy to accept a little comfort, even if it is from an insincere bastard like me. My brothers watch from the other side of the table with great curiosity, wondering where this is going.

Just like I know they have the hots for her, they now know I do, too.