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She laughs, freely, easily. It’s a bit surprising, meeting someone in our world, so happy and comfortable in their life. Katerina has a family, a husband, and children. I’ve never considered it a possibility, being able to balance it all. Our line of work is already dangerous enough—adding in more responsibilities just seems like an unnecessary complication.
Families can be a burden at times.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t. Goodbye, Mr. Volkov.” She stretches her hand for a shake.
“Ivan,” I correct, accepting the handshake.
She offers me a warm smile. “Take care of yourself, Ivan.”
The restaurant is all elegance and refinement—soft lighting, polished wood, and whispers of conversation that barely rise above the classical music playing in the background. It’s the kind of place that requires a reservation months in advance, where every detail is meticulously curated to exude luxury. I like it. The privacy, the quiet—it’s just what I need tonight.
Ruslan and the rest of my men opted to stay outside, scanning the perimeter for threats. I’m used to it. Ruslan usually chooses not to have a meal with me unless he absolutely has to. We’re as close as brothers but he’s always made sure to keep a barrier of professionalism between us.
The restaurant’s manager greets with me a warm smile as I appear.
“Good evening, sir. Will it just be you this evening?” she asks, her voice soft, respectful.
“Yes,” I reply, nodding. “My companion couldn’t make it.”
“Of course. Right this way.”
She leads me to a table near the floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a view of the city lights below. The table is set perfectly, a single white rose in a crystal vase at the center. I sit, appreciating the comfort of the high-backed chair, and she hands me a menu.
“Your waiter will be with you shortly.”
I give a brief nod and scan the menu. A young waiter appears, eager and nervous. First day, maybe.
“Will you be the only one this evening, sir?”
My jaw clenches at the repetition. “I’m pretty sure I already answered that question,” I state, my voice sharp.
He swallows, his entire countenance exuding discomfort. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s ineptitude. Especially at such a high-class restaurant. If he can’t do his job confidently, then why is he even here.
“I’m sorry, sir. What can I get you?”
“Let’s start with a whiskey, neat.”
He nods, almost too quickly, and scurries off. I watch him go, noting the way he almost trips over his own feet. I take a breath, trying to relax into the evening and letting the low hum of the restaurant wash over me.
A minute later, I hear a clatter, and my head snaps up just in time to see the waiter coming back with my drink. His grip on the tray is unsteady, and as he nears my table, he slips. The tray tips, the glass tumbles, and the whiskey splashes to the floor, shattering the silence with a loud crash. I react on instinct, standing up and stepping back just in time to avoid the glass shards and liquid.
For a moment, there’s stunned silence. The waiter stands there, frozen, his face pale as he stares at the mess on the floor. My jaw tightens, the frustration bubbling over.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap, my voice low but cold. “Can’t even manage a simple drink?”
The waiter stammers, his eyes wide with fear. He looks like he wants to disappear into the floor. “I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t mean?—”
“Of course you didn’t mean it,” I cut him off, the anger rising. “But here we are, my drink on the floor and you standing there like an idiot.”
Before I can say more, I hear a voice from behind me—a woman’s voice, calm yet firm.
“I think that’s enough.”
I whirl around and the first thing that registers is her scent. Her perfume is floral and delicate, sophisticated as well. It’s aheady scent. And then I take a look at the woman it belongs to. She’s strikingly beautiful. Long, pin-straight brown hair cascades over her shoulder, and she stands with a confident posture that’s impossible to ignore and a sharp look in her light eyes.
I’m not sure how long I stare. Perhaps a couple of seconds, maybe longer. But eventually I snap out of it enough to narrow my eyes.
“And how does this concern you?” I question.
