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“Whatever. Just know Yel is persistent, and if this friend doesn’t work out, don’t be surprised if you’re meeting all of her acquaintances and their moms in short order.”

I gave a mock shudder. “Please talk her out of it. I can find my own fuck buddies, thanks!”

I didn’t get a chance to speak with Stas alone again because I had no excuse to linger when Zasha threw his arm around my shoulders and led me from the room. I dared a glance over my shoulder. Stas was scowling at our backs like a demon. A part of me wanted to unleash that demon, to flirt with his daughter’s friend to find out what Stas would do.

But the poor man couldn’t walk straight, so I should cut him some slack.

Dinner wasn’t too bad, company included. I never thought I’d appreciate this kind of domesticity. Still, there I was at a real dining table, not a dimly lit bar or some godforsaken warehouse, eating food someone had cooked because they considered me family, not because they feared me.

Yelena was a decent cook, and her friend Claudia had an annoying laugh, but otherwise she seemed intelligent. Nice enough. Polished. Blond hair braided over one shoulder, a soft winter top hugging curves she clearly knew how to use by the way she kept pushing her chest out at me.

We ate in the dining room, tearing into rosemary lamb and vareniki while the empty chair kept needling me with the reminder that Stas was upstairs alone, eating soup and crackers for a fake cold. I tried not to think about the past two days and how this man I once hated was slowly infesting my brain and occupying my thoughts.

Claudia leaned toward me, bracing her elbow on the table. Her top button had mysteriously come undone, displaying the creamy curve of her breasts. I much preferred the hardness of Stas’s pecs.

“So…Yuriy. Yelena tells me you’re from Chicago? I’ve never been.” Her smile was warm. Her eyes lingered. A little too long, a little too curious.

“Yes.” I picked up my water. “Work keeps me busy there, so I don’t travel much.”

“What work is that?” She tilted her head the way women did when they wanted to look fascinated but ended up looking as if something was wrong with their neck.

“Logistics. Really boring stuff.” And if I told you the details, I would have to kill you.

Across the table, Zasha choked on his drink, and Yelena chuckled. He was the lucky one. His woman understood exactly what our families were up to and hadn’t bolted. How many women would do the same? At least with Stas, no explanation was necessary about what I did for a living.

Claudia leaned in a fraction more, her perfume drifting toward me, something floral and sweet. “It must keep you in shape. You look like you could lift a car.”

“Not quite, but I’ve had experience lifting quite a few bodies, though,” I said without thinking.

She giggled, lashes fluttering. “You’re funny. I can tell you must be popular with the ladies.”

“Men too.” I gave her a wink.

And some non-binary people too.

Her mouth flew open, and she blinked, uncertain what to do with the information.

“Claudia’s a dancer,” Yelena piped up. “She teaches classes downtown. You should catch her in action before you leave, Yuriy. She has a recital on Christmas Eve.”

“I just might.”

“Speaking of dancing…” Zasha stood and moved to the speaker in the corner. A low instrumental track filtered into the room—soft piano, a winter melody I vaguely recognized.

Yelena gasped. “Oh! I love this one. Zash, come dance with me.”

He grinned, offered his hand, and helped her to her feet. She stepped into his arms, her baby bump cute against my brother’s belly. They swayed in the dining room like they were secret lovers, stealing a moment with each other instead of a couple who’d been married for the past five years.

Seeing Zasha so happy made my heart ache. Not in a bad way. This was all I ever wanted for him. I’d never anticipated he would walk away from the Bratva, but I could see he’d made the best decision for himself. Because I couldn’t give up the lifestyle didn’t mean my decision should affect his life.

Stas was right.

Shit.

I should have let those men keep his wallet at the bar. With dead bodies trailing us, how long would it be before they found out where we were? How long before Zasha and his very pregnant wife became involved?

“So, Yuriy, how much longer are you in town?” Claudia placed a hand on my arm.

“We’ll leave after the new year.”