Mind your business, no?” Vik’s gaze narrowed into slits when she peered back at her brother. “And that can’t be in here. It’s against the health code.”
“He stays,” Kolya returned. “And don’t call him that again.”
“You—”
“There’s no one else here, and when I go outside, I will take him with me. I am not leaving him in my fucking Hummer, yeah?”
“He’s a health hazard.”
“The same could be said for you, Vik, but here you are.”
Because she was a fucking health hazard to anyone who got too close to her—the woman was toxic in some ways. Cruel and violent. She got that shit from their father, but given that she looked like their mother, it was hard to see the bad parts of Vik when the pretty covered it up well enough.
“Kolya,” Maya admonished, turning blazing eyes on him. “That’s rude. Apologize.”
Vik smiled sly and slow. “Yes, Kolya, apologize to me. As your sister, I’m very offended.”
“Sure you are. Can we do this, yes? I have other things to do today. You know the rules, Vik. Vadim calls for a tattoo, you’re to do it. No questions asked.”
His sister scowled, but turned her gaze on Maya. “You said stars when you called.”
Kolya nodded once. “To match mine.”
“Vadim approved.”
“Would I be here otherwise? He demanded it.”
His sister sighed, but turned her gaze on Maya. “You got a name, or …?”
Maya glanced back at Kolya and he gave her a soft smile. There wasn’t much he could do about Vik or her shitty fucking attitude. And he really needed to get this tattoo done for her, so Vik it was because she trusted Kolya’s word about their father’s order without question. Someone else might call to check.
“Maya Kozlov,” she told his sister. “Nice to meet you, Vik. Kolya hasn’t said too much about you, I’m sorry to say.”
Viktoria laughed, and smiled. “It’s fine. Nothing he has to say about anyone is anything nice.”
Kolya cocked a brow and made sure his sister saw him tip his head in Maya’s direction. “Except her, yeah? Keep that in mind.”
His sister’s amusement was quick to fade, then. He waited to see Maya into the back room, and allowed Vik to get her set up before Sumerki started his sniffing. That only meant one thing. Vik seemed all too pleased to tell him he could take the dog outside and keep him there.
“I’ll be an hour at most,” his sister said, snapping on her gloves and getting her rig set up. “Surely, you can do something with th—the dog—for an hour. Throw a fucking stick, no?”
Kolya decided that before he said something that was really going to hurt his sister, he should probably get the fuck out of there. So, he did just that.
He took his time to walk Sumerki around the quiet city block, and then he grabbed a coffee on the way back after paying a teenager fifty bucks to hold Sumerki in the doorway of the cafe. By the time he got back to the tattoo shop, well over an hour had passed. He stepped back inside the business with Sumerki tucked under his arm—fuck what Vik said—and froze like a statue at the sound of laughter coming from the back room.
He didn’t hear the familiar hum of a tattoo machine. Not silence. Not his sister’s harsh words or bad attitude. No, just … laughter.
He quickly moved to the back rooms and returned to the one he’d left Maya in. The laughter stopped the moment he darkened the doorway, but it didn’t matter. He’d still heard it, and while his sister stopped smiling at the sight of him, Maya did not. She glanced over her shoulder, back bared, and with two new, black-and-white, eight-pointed stars coloring her skin right where he wanted them to be … she still smiled at him.
“How does it look?” she asked.
Fuck.
Why was his throat so tight?
Why did the sight of his stars—ones that had been designed to be unique for just him—on her body make his dick hard and his heart ache?
Why?
“Kolya?”
Maya’s quiet question brought him back to reality with a bang.
“Perfect,” he said. “They look perfect, dushka.”
Vik was quick to pass her brother a look at the endearment he used so casually that was anything but casual. He didn’t miss the way his sister’s eyes said, Ah, I get it now.
He willed her to shut up and stay quiet.
She did.
Mostly.
“Kon called; said you wouldn’t pick up your phone,” Vik said.
“I need quiet every once in a while.”
Vik shrugged. “Whatever—he’s