by Roxie Rivera
Deep down inside, he knew exactly why this bothered him so much. She wasn't supposed to be the one with secrets. He was supposed to know everything about her. She was supposed to be the one constant source of light and goodness in his life. There were no dark corners or closed doors in her life.
He wanted to have zero reasons to mistrust her. All while he kept secrets and told white lies and did terrible, horrible things right under her nose. The hypocrisy of it turned his stomach.
He turned his attention to Vivian's friend. Bianca sat at the small table in the library where Vivian sometimes sketched while he read in one of the comfortable chairs. She had her back to the door and seemed to be putting an awful lot of thought into copying the Russian phrases on her notepad. "Bianca, it's good to see you."
She twisted in her seat and smiled. "It's nice to see you too." She gathered up her notepad and her oversized purse. The buttery yellow leather seemed impossibly bright against her rich, dark skin. As usual, she was dressed to sheer perfection. The girl had style and a smile that made a man think of sinful things. It was easy enough to see why Sergei loved and adored her.
Making a show of glancing at her watch, she said, "I need to run. Sergei will be home soon. I promised to handle dinner tonight."
Still holding Vivian close, he asked, "What time are you two heading to the airport on Sunday?"
"I think Sergei said eight?" She tucked her notepad into her purse along with the capped pen. "What about you two?"
"Eight. You're staying at the same hotel as Erin and Ivan?"
"Yes."
"And Sergei's mother and brother are joining us on Tuesday evening?"
She nodded. "They'll be with us until Sunday morning when they fly back to Russia."
"I haven't had a chance to talk with Sergei about the immigration situation. It's going well?" He had recommended a better, more expensive lawyer earlier in the month. The attorney had useful connections and could speed up the process.
"He had a meeting with his new lawyer earlier this week. It seems promising so far."
"I'm glad to hear that. It will be good for the entire family to be here together."
"Yes, it will."
Moving his arms to Vivian's shoulders, he guided her to one side of the doorway. "Ten?" The man stepped forward but said nothing. "Walk Bianca out to her car.
"Da."
"Oh, I don't need an escort," Bianca hurriedly replied with a slightly nervous laugh. "I'm a big girl."
"It's no trouble." Just to ensure that she understood this wasn't up for debate, he added, "I insist."
Vivian stepped away from him and walked Bianca out of the house with Ten a few steps behind them. He moved to the window overlooking the front yard and watched Ten escort Bianca to her car. When Ten boxed her in with his larger body, Nikolai curled his hands at his sides. Ten had never been violent or inappropriate with a woman, but prison had a way of changing a man and never for the better.
Ready to intervene, he closely watched the pair and relaxed when Ten behaved himself. He was trying to flirt with her, that much was clear even from this distance, but he didn't cross any lines. Bianca was a strong woman and more than capable of putting even a man as intimidating and huge as Ten in his place.
He watched Ten take Bianca's hand and hold it up to the light from the antique-style street lamps. It was easy enough to deduce the topic of their conversation.
"If Sergei catches Ten leering at Bianca like that, he'll shatter Ten's jaw." Vivian had returned to the library but didn't come closer to him. She hovered near the doorway. He didn't want to dwell on the reasons why she was distancing herself from him.
Not taking his eyes off Bianca and Ten, Nikolai nodded in agreement with Vivian's statement. "A shattered jaw will be the least of Ten's worries if he tries to seduce Bianca."
"Even if he tries, he won't succeed. Bianca is committed to Sergei, and he to her. They're unbreakable."
"No couple is truly unbreakable," he murmured without thinking. A moment too late, he realized what he had said. He spun to face Vivian, but she was already gone. Her habit of traipsing barefoot around the house allowed her to move so quietly. Kostya would be so proud of her stealth.
Searching her out, he left the library and came face-to-face with Ten in the entryway. He put a hand on the larger man's chest. Ten's eyebrows raised at the rough touch, but he didn't pull away. "Yes?"
"Leave Bianca Bradshaw alone. She belongs to Sergei, and I will let him break you if you put another hand on her."
Ten's jaw clenched and unclenched. "I didn't hurt her. I was warning her."
"About?"
"You know."
Nikolai replayed the scene he had watched play out in front of his house. "You warned her about Sergei's mother."
"Someone had to."
"She's a good woman. Sergei's family will learn to love her when they see how kind and gentle she is. She'll make him a better man. That's all any mother wants for her son." He flicked Ten's chest. "There are plenty of other big, beautiful girls like Bianca in Houston. Go find one of them—or two or three," he added with a wry smile, thinking of Ten's appetites. "But leave this one alone. She's taken, and she's one of us."
Ten nodded. "I'll stay away from Bianca."
"Now, let's talk about Vivian."
Ten rubbed the back of his neck. "It could have gone better. We had good moments and bad ones." He dropped his hand. "It will get easier." He swallowed and glanced away for a second. "I'll try harder."
Nikolai figured that was the most he could ask for and smacked Ten's arm. "Go home. We'll see you in the morning."
After Ten had lumbered away and out the back door to catch a ride with Ilya, Nikolai made sure the night guard was in place before locking up and setting the alarm. He followed the low thump of music to Vivian's home studio. She never painted late when he was home early. The fact that she had chosen to do so tonight didn't bode well for him.
He lingered outside the closed French doors that led to the sunroom-slash-studio. Even from here, he could smell the oil paints and canvas. He worried about her exposure to the paints, but he trusted that she was being careful. The music thrummed at a level that was just loud enough to drown out the noise of the house.
Nikolai reached out to open the door. He grasped the handle but stopped. The last thing he wanted was to fight with her. He didn't trust himself to get it right tonight. Maybe she needed some space. She had closed the doors for a reason. He decided to respect that and let her come to him when she was ready.
Unable to help himself, he tested the handle. It moved freely. The door was unlocked. Tonight that was enough.
He pivoted on his heel and headed to the kitchen to find something for dinner. After poking through the refrigerator, he settled on a sandwich and a beer. As he opened the drawer to search for the bottle opener, his pocket started to vibrate. He fished out his phone and spotted Kostya's number.
"Yes?" He clamped the phone between his ear and shoulder and popped the cap off his beer.
"Boss, we have a problem."
Tossing the bottle opener into the drawer, he bumped it closed with his hip. "What kind of problem?"
"I had a tip about a guest checking into a hotel downtown. A maid who dates one of your soldiers recognized the face. I decided to check it out."
"And? Is it Mando or his stripper girlfriend?" He took a long pull from the ice cold bottle.
"No, boss." Kostya hesitated. "It's Tatiana. She's back in Houston."
Nikolai choked on his mouthful of beer and barely managed to get it down his throat. Tatiana? Back in Houston? Was she trying to get both of them killed? "Are you at the hotel?"
"Yes."
"Deal with her. Now."
"It's done." Kostya cleared his throat. "What should I do about Santos?"
Kostya had named the one person Nikolai did not want to deal with tonight or any other. Vivian's cousin, the Houston detective, was a perennial pain in his fucking ass, and if he found out
Tatiana was alive and back in Houston? Fuck.
"Leave it to me."
"Da."
The line went dead. Awash in anger and frustration that Tatiana had dared to come back, he scrolled through his contacts until he found Ilya's name. He needed a diversion to keep Santos and his gang task force buddies busy.
"Boss? What's wrong?" Ilya answered promptly. It was quiet in the background which meant Ilya had gone straight home instead of out to drink or carouse. That was good because he needed a clear head for the task he was about to be assigned. It was going to be a very long night for Ilya and his crew.
"Ilya, I need you to do something for me…"
Chapter Ten
"What's next on the list?" Erin glanced around the busy Starbucks and sipped the last bit of her iced blackberry mojito tea. The noise of the Galleria crowd echoed like a dull roar in the mega-sized mall. Like Bianca, Erin lived for fashion and had practically squealed with delight when I had asked her to come shopping with me after Nikolai had ducked out of the house early to deal with some business.
The secret kind of business, of course.
I tried not to dwell on my confused emotions. After spending the evening painting and trying to give Nikolai some space, I had gone up to our bedroom to find him already asleep. That had never happened. I had showered and slipped quietly into bed. I had expected him to roll toward me or wrap his arms around me in that possessive, comforting way I loved so much, but he hadn't moved at all.
Honestly, I had suspected he was actually awake. His breathing had been too even and too controlled for sleep. The fact that he was pretending to sleep rather than talk to me had cut deeply, but I had decided to let it go. I couldn't bear the thought of fighting with him while we were in our bed. In the end, I had turned on my side, facing away from him, hugged the covers up to my chin and closed my eyes.
Pushing aside that troubling memory, I pulled the small pink notepad from my purse and looked at the list. Erin had helped me choose a few new tops and some bottoms in a slightly larger size than I normally wore. By the time I returned from London, I would have no choice but to hit up the maternity stores and boutiques around town. "I still need a dress for the actual gallery show."
"What kind of dress? Evening? Cocktail? Red? Blue? Gold and glittery? Empire waist? Bandage? Long hem? Short hem?"
From his seat at the table directly behind Erin, Ten smirked and polished off his iced coffee. He seemed to find Erin terribly amusing. Despite her frustrations with the way Ivan had moved him into their home without warning, she appeared to have warmed toward Ten.
"I spoke to Lena this morning, and she told me to wear something black. Apparently it will photograph better. I'm supposed to make sure that Nikolai wears a black suit, too."
"Well, she is the PR guru so I would take that suggestion to heart." Erin glanced around the busy mall. "BCGB is back that way, and bebe is down there, right across from GAP. They both have really sexy and fun little black dresses. I'm sure we can find something for you there."
"Okay. And you? Do you have anything else on your list?"
"I still need to grab a new belt for Ivan. Apparently it has to come from Gucci." Rolling her eyes, she laughed softly and started digging through her purse in search of lipstick and her compact. "I promised Ivan I would take this guy," she gestured behind her with the black tube, "to get some polos and tees. I figured we'd try Express or Kenneth Cole maybe. If they have shirts that will fit my big man-beast, they'll have shirts that fit Ten."
Behind her, Ten snorted with amusement and lifted the lid on his drink to get to the ice cubes inside. He shook some into his mouth and crunched on them. Erin swiveled in her seat at the loud noise and playfully chastised him. "Hey, comrade, were you raised in a barn?"
Ten noisily smashed another cube between his teeth. "Keep that up, and I might accidentally let it slip that you went on a binge in that makeup store. I'm pretty sure I heard Ivan complaining about the counter space in your bathroom."
She stuck out her tongue at him, and Ten made a circling motion with his finger, silently instructing her to turn around. She touched up her lips and dropped her makeup back into her bag. Her gaze landed on my half-full peach green tea. "You didn't finish your tea, and you always finish your tea. Was it mixed wrong? I'll take it back up to the counter for you."
"No, it's fine. I'm not that thirsty." My stomach was swirling with nausea, and I had forgotten to toss the ginger lozenges and gum into my purse before leaving the house.
"It's like a hundred degrees outside, Vivi. You need to drink up."
"I'll take it with me." I wrapped a napkin around the plastic cup to shield my hands from the condensation.
"Okay." Erin continued to eye me with concern as she gathered up her empty cup, napkins and wrapped the leftover half of her brightly iced sugar cookie in the crinkly paper bag. She stowed the cookie in her purse and tossed her trash.
While her back was turned, Ten touched my hand. I glanced down and caught him trying to press an unwrapped ginger lozenge into my hand. He winked at me and dropped it onto my upturned palm. I thanked him with a smile and popped it into my mouth.
Erin looped her arm through mine and guided me into the bustling crowd. She veered toward the left, and I correctly assumed we were going to tackle the men's shopping first. Picking out a belt for Ivan took longer than I had expected. Eventually, she settled on two different belts, one black with a spur buckle and the other a dark brown leather with a square buckle.
Picking out shirts with Ten brought back memories of prom dress hunting with Erin and Lena. This shirt was too heavy, but that one was too thin. The fabric on this one was scratchy, but the fabric on that one was too stiff. He didn't like bright colors, but he didn't want all black.
"What about this one?" Erin held up an orange polo, and I thought Ten was going to blow a pupil. She realized her mistake too late. The man had just gotten out of prison, and she was trying to put him back in convict orange.
"Nyet."
"Yeah. Sorry." She hastily stuck it back on the rack. "My bad. How about something more cheerful?" She plucked a purple one off the rack but quickly put it back when Ten's eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "So, um, gray?"
With a grim expression, he stepped forward and selected four different shirts, each in shades of dark blue and gray. "These will do."
I took them from his arms before he could react. "Anything else?"
"No. That's it."
"Okay." I headed for the cashier but Erin lightly smacked my arm to get my attention. "What?"
"Ivan told me to pick up the tab." She tried to take the shirts from me, but I held firm.
"No. I've got this. My treat," I said and smiled at Ten.
"Ladies," he said with a deep laugh. "I'm flattered to have you fighting over me, but let's not throw down in the middle of this store. Getting tossed out of the Galleria because of a cat fight won't go over well with my P.O."
Erin rolled her eyes. "Boy, you really are a charmer."
After paying for Ten's shirts, I handed him the bag. He was already carrying my other shopping bags. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
We started the search for a dress and found three possibilities at the first shop we visited. Erin followed me to the dressing room and plopped down on a flat, round black leather chair to wait for me. She held my cup of tea in her hand and crossed her legs. "Go on. Dazzle me."
Shaking my head and smiling, I closed the door and stripped out of my skirt and top. The first dress was lovely, but it clung to the swell of my belly in a way I hadn't expected.
"Well?"
"No," I answered. "This one is definitely a no."
Standing there in front of the mirrors, I stared at my reflection. My hands glided over my belly and the subtle but noticeable curve to my stomach. With each passing week, it became more and more prominent. For the last five weeks, I had been secretly snapping photos of my ever-changing abdomen. I wasn't sure what I would do with all the pho
tos when I reached the end of my pregnancy. I had almost twenty-eight weeks to think of something.
"Try the one-shoulder drapey-like dress," Erin suggested through the door.
I shrugged out of the curve hugging dress and into the one-shoulder number. It had a nice fit, but I wasn't sold on the asymmetrical top and the bared shoulder. The dress would have looked phenomenal on Lena. I snapped a quick photo and texted it to her.
V: Shopping with Erin. Tried this one on and thought of you. Want?
"Who are you texting?" Erin nosily asked. "I can hear you taking pictures in there. Are you spicing it up with Nikolai?"
"No," I answered with a laugh and shimmied out of the dress. I could just imagine the look on his face if he received a half-naked snapshot of me.
"Why not?" She had moved closer to the door and whispered conspiratorially through it. "Ivan goes crazy when I send him pics during the day. Like—holy shit. You can't even imagine what he's like when he gets home."
"Oh my God," I replied with shocked laughter. "Will you calm down? TMI, much?"
"I'm just saying—"
"No!"
"Fine."
Imagining her pout, I wiggled into the strapless dress. It was the simplest of the three I had taken into the fitting room. The high, contoured waist and the loose, fluttery skirt camouflaged my problem areas. With a smile on my face, I unlocked and opened the door and stepped out for Erin to give her opinion. "Well?"
Her mouth curved in a broad grin. "It's perfect! It's flirty and sexy but simple." She held up her phone. "Let's see how it photographs." She snapped a quick photo. "Turn sideways. Got it."
Uncrossing her legs, she stood up and walked toward me. Standing beside me, she peered at my reflection in the mirror. Her head tilted to the side. "You look different."
"Different? How?" I pretended I didn't know what she meant.
