Fractured Ties by Bethany-Kris Page 0,72
might have made it his first and last mission to wipe the smirk off his brother’s face.
He couldn’t even be bothered today.
“Yeah, I’m done,” Konstantin said.
“Good. Do you know where Vadim is?”
“Avoiding us.”
Yeah, he figured.
Fuck.
“He can only avoid us for so long—tribute is next week, right? You could just let the incident with Maya and the hotel go,” Konstantin suggested. “You know how Vadim is. He’s dominant, aggressive, and has a tendency to piss on anything he considers his territory.”
A lot like them, too, Kolya thought.
He didn’t say it out loud.
“And if he meant to hurt your thing,” Konstantin continued, “he would have.”
“Don’t call her that. She isn’t a thing, Konstantin. It’s bad enough Vadim wants to label her property. Don’t diminish her like he does.”
“She is yours, though, isn’t she?”
Well, that was a whole other story.
“Moving on,” Kolya said gruffly. “Any news on the Albanian front this week?”
Konstantin shook his head. “Nothing. They’ve been quiet.”
And that was seriously concerning.
Why?
The debt wasn’t paid.
They’d made that clear.
“Then, they’re probably just about due for another incident, aren’t they?” Kolya asked.
“Likely.”
But who would the Albanians take this time?
Which Boykov vor would it be?
• • •
Vadim was rarely the first person to show up at tribute. In fact, he was often the last man to grace everyone with his presence. Boss’s right, Kolya supposed. That was exactly why he wasn’t at all surprised to find his father hadn’t even arrived at the meeting of the Boykov men by the time Kolya got there.
Konstantin had arrived first, it seemed. Tucked away in the corner of the room with his back facing the row of bookshelves, his brother was able to see everyone around him, and didn’t put himself at risk in the same breath.
Boykov men were all the same.
Kolya included.
Despite not wanting to chat—and Konstantin was so fucking chatty lately—Konstantin was far easier on Kolya’s head than anyone else in that goddamn room. He headed his brother’s way and didn’t give anyone else a second look. Not that any of them would expect anything different from Kolya.
They were all quite accustomed to his moods.
“Maya find a house yet?” Konstantin asked.
See, chatty.
“She’s very picky,” Kolya admitted.
And she was … Jesus.
She wanted privacy, but not so much so that she felt shut off from the rest of the world. Frankly, Kolya would have liked that just fine. She also wanted grass and maybe a fence. Hardwood floors and natural crown molding. Four bedrooms and an equal number of bathrooms. For visitors’ sake, she explained.
What difference did it make?
He didn’t have the first clue.
All Kolya knew was that Maya had settled in—she quite liked her place with him and whatever it was that they were doing together. He liked having her there, too. He wasn’t about to fuck that up, or make her unhappy, by opening his moody ass mouth and making a comment about the kinds of floors she wanted or the number of bathrooms being ridiculous.
“Could always build,” Konstantin suggested as though he could read his brother’s mind. “You’ve got the money for that.”
More than actually.
“I could,” Kolya agreed. “She still might find something.”
His brother glanced over at him with curious eyes. “Is living with a woman really as difficult as everyone says?”
“What?”
Konstantin shrugged. “Difficult, yeah? Fickle, even. I wouldn’t know. I’m curious.”
No, Kolya supposed Konstantin wouldn’t know much about living with a woman beyond their sister Viktoria, and that had only been as long as he’d been required to live under the same roof. It wasn’t like Konstantin made much time for women beyond busting a nut—not that Kolya had been any different, so he didn’t have much to say there.
“It’s not … she’s good,” Kolya settled on saying. “A ray of fucking sunshine in the morning.”
Quite literally.
The woman woke up smiling.
Konstantin made a face. “I think you just lucked out, no? That doesn’t seem to be the norm.”
Possibly.
Kolya didn’t respond. He couldn’t, when his father just walked into the room, and everyone else went quiet. Konstantin was quick to notice Vadim, too, and reverted back to his previous stillness. Grisha trailed two steps behind Vadim, as usual.
It’d been two weeks since the hotel incident. Two weeks of Vadim ignoring Kolya and refusing to see his son. Two weeks of fucking nonsense.
And yet, his father smiled when he laid eyes on him. Vadim passed a couple of his men who had stood from the long table to greet him without as much as a hello in their direction. He came to the end of the