Page 15 of Embrace of the Russian Tiger

“I’ll think about it,” I said, my voice carefully neutral.

“Do that,” Nikolai replied, his tone warm again. “I’d like to see you, Maxim. It’s been too long.”

We exchanged a few more words before I hung up the phone, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the ceiling. The call had dredged up memories I didn’t want to face, but more than that, it had left me with questions.

Nikolai had known Katya. He had been there in the beginning, before everything fell apart. And now, after all these years, he was back. Was it coincidence, or was there something more at play?

And then there was Anna.

I closed my eyes, trying to shove the thoughts of Anna and Nikolai to the back of my mind. I needed clarity, focus. This is difficult with the ghosts of my past resurfacing and with Nikolai back in the picture.

I sat in silence for a few moments after hanging up the phone, the weight of Nikolai’s words still pressing against my mind. The past had a way of creeping up on you, no matter how far you thought you’d buried it. Nikolai’s voice had stirred something I didn’t want to confront—something about Katya, about the boy I used to be, and about the man I’d become.

But I couldn’t dwell on that now. Not when there were far more immediate problems on my plate. Anna, for one. She was unraveling the control I had worked so hard to maintain. Andnow Nikolai, with his easy charm, was trying to bring back memories I’d long since discarded. I needed to stay focused.

Mikhail entered the room just then, his usual brooding presence filling the space. He was quieter these days, more withdrawn, ever since his own family had fallen apart after his sister’s death. It wasn’t just grief weighing him down—it was guilt. Guilt for not protecting her, guilt for not being able to stop his family from splintering after her murder. It was a burden we both carried.

But Mikhail didn’t complain. He never did.

“You’re deep in thought,” he remarked, sitting in the chair opposite me. “What’s going on?”

I exhaled, leaning back in my chair. “Nikolai called.”

Mikhail raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. “Nikolai? From back in the day? I haven’t heard that name in years. Why’s he calling you now?”

“Good question.” I rubbed my temples, feeling the tension building there. “He’s back in New York. Says he wants to ‘reconnect.’”

Mikhail didn’t respond immediately. He was silent, thoughtful, as if processing the news. “And what do you think he really wants?”

“That’s the problem,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Nikolai’s always had an angle, even back then. He’s not the type to just reach out for old times’ sake. He must want something.”

Mikhail nodded. He knew Nikolai too, though not as well as I did. Mikhail had come into the picture a little later, after Nikolai had already started distancing himself from us. But Mikhail had heard enough stories to understand who he was. “You think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t think he’s a direct threat,” I admitted. “But he’s unpredictable. Back in the day, he was the type of guy who could talk his way into or out of anything. And he had this charm thatmade people trust him, even when they shouldn’t. That hasn’t changed, I’m sure.”

Mikhail leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “And what about you? You trust him?”

I thought about it for a moment. Did I trust Nikolai? Trust wasn’t something I gave out easily, not anymore. Nikolai had been a friend once, maybe even a brother, but those days were long gone. Too much had changed since then.

“No,” I said finally. “I don’t trust him. Not completely. But I’m curious about what he wants.”

Mikhail gave a small nod, as if that answer made sense to him. “You think it’s personal? Or business?”

“With Nikolai, it could be either.” I let out a frustrated sigh. “But he mentioned the world changing. He’s not wrong. The dynamics in the city are shifting, and people are positioning themselves for something big.”

Mikhail was quiet for a moment, then he asked, “And what if it’s something more than business?”

I glanced at him, knowing exactly what he was implying. “You think he’s trying to bring up the past on purpose.”

Mikhail shrugged. “Maybe. He was close with Katya, too. Maybe her death hit him harder than we realized. People do strange things when they feel guilty. You and I know that better than anyone.”

The mention of Katya’s name brought that familiar pang of grief, but I pushed it aside. I had learned how to live with that pain long ago. But the idea that Nikolai might be motivated by something emotional—by guilt or regret—was unsettling.

I didn’t like the idea of mixing emotion with business.

“I don’t know what his angle is,” I said finally, my voice low. “But whatever it is, I’ll figure it out. If he thinks he can manipulate me by bringing up the past, he’s in for a rude awakening.”

Mikhail nodded, his face serious. “You think you’ll meet with him?”

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