Lev: a Shot Callers novel - Belle Aurora Page 0,95
met Philippe Neige.”
Philippe took my free hand, planting a swift kiss to my knuckles. His French accent was delightful. “‘Allo, Mina. Nice to see you again.”
The next man had light brown hair and hazel eyes, and a smile that stunned. It was bright and wide, and when he spoke, his rough tone had me swallowing hard. “Howzit, liefie?” If his accent wasn’t enough to shock the words right out of me, the fact that I hadn’t understood a word of what he said sure would have. He wore dark jeans, a white V-neck tee, and a black blazer. He grinned harder. “That was my native tongue, Afrikaans. I just said ‘how are you doing, lovely?’”
“Oh,” I uttered, flushing. “I’m doing just fine, thank you.”
He shook my hand like a man would another man. “Nicolas Van Eden.”
“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” He seemed fun.
“The pleasure is all mine, bokkie.” He leaned forward and told me, “That means doe. And with eyes like yours, I think I’ll be calling you bokkie, little one.”
It took everything I had not to burst into laughter. He was funny without meaning to be, and super sweet. I very much liked Nicolas Van Eden.
The third man shoved his friend out of the way. “My turn.” He had short dark hair and green smiling eyes, and he took my hand, shaking it lightly. “Mina, we’ve heard so much about you.” He looked gorgeous in his tailored black suit. He only had a slight accent, but it was hard to miss. “Roman Vlasic, at your service.”
“Hello,” I said kindly as I shook his hand.
The fourth man stood patiently, awaiting our arrival. He had skin an olive skin tone, dark hair long enough to curl behind his ears, and green eyes framed with dark lashes. The gunmetal grey suit he wore fit him nicely. He looked as though he’d made an effort to look nice. His smile was secretive. Laredo led me to him, and he held out both hands to take both of mine. “Mina,” was all he said. And he said this softly, almost sweetly.
This man, I felt, could have been my brother.
Laredo made introductions. “Davi Lobo. Mina Harris.”
Davi lifted both my hands and held them to his mouth, pressing the softest of kisses to them. He released my hands, smiled down at me, and motioned to the person standing behind me.
Lev took my hand, entwining our fingers.
Oh, that’s right.
My boyfriend was here, and although this gaggle of men had my mind abuzz, Lev’s touch soothed the tension right out of me in the way only he could.
Alessio stood in the doorway, his eyes searching me in a way that felt intrusive. I don’t think he meant it. I don’t even think he knew he was doing it. Laredo looked to his son and made introductions from afar. “Alessio Scarfo. My son.”
“Hi,” I breathed, trying my hardest not to hide behind Lev.
Alessio jerked his chin at me with indifference.
I turned back to look at Davi, who winked at me. I smiled in return. Oh yeah. I had a strong feeling about Davi. He was the one I felt most familiar with. It was kind of strange.
Laredo clapped his hands together. “Come. Dinner will be served in half an hour. We have some time to talk and get to know each other.”
We followed Laredo into the foyer and two staff members waited for us to approach. The second we were close enough, they opened the double door simultaneously and held them open with straight, emotionless faces. Laredo swept his arm out to allow Lev and me entry first. Lev helped me sit to the left of the head of the table, where Laredo sat, and took a place next to me.
Davi sat across from me and I grinned like a schoolgirl. I was this close to my brother. All I needed was for Laredo to confirm my suspicion. I wanted to ask right this second, but told myself to be patient. All would be revealed in due time.
For twenty-four years, I didn’t know I had a brother. What was another hour’s wait compared to quarter of a lifetime?
The rest of the men seated themselves around the table and Lev spoke first, addressing Alessio, who took a seat at the end of the table, away from the rest of us. “Are we going to have a problem?”
Alessio grinned cruelly at my man, his face distorting as his scars pulled and stretched with the movement. “I don’t know, Leokov. Are we?”