“This is it?” he asked. “This is all you brought?”
“It’s all I could bring without having to pay for extra baggage.”
His frown increased. “Since when has money been an issue for you? The Bratva pays very well.”
Yes, it did. The problem was that it wasn’tmymoney. It was my dad’s.
For years, I’d gone on and on about having my freedom. A life of my own. This was a step in that direction, but I would never truly be independent if I kept taking my dad’s money, having him pay for everything for me. I needed to start paying my own way. Support myself.
It was going to be hard. So, so hard. I was well aware of the fact that I was spoiled. Anything I’ve ever wanted, my dad provided. Clothes. Cars. Ponies. “No” was not a word in my dad’s vocabulary when it came to material possessions. It made me accustomed to a certain type of lifestyle, one that would be hard to walk away from.
But I was determined to do it, to make it on my own.
“I’m not taking Dad’s money anymore,” I said proudly, squaring my shoulders.
“You’re not-how do you plan to support yourself while you’re here?”
“I’m going to get a job.”
He stared at me in complete befuddlement, not saying a word. Then he burst into a fit of laughter. Anger snapped my spine straight and I glared at him.
That fucking—
I wound my leg back and kicked him right in the shin. His laughter broke off in an instant, shouting out in pain.
“Blyad! Fuck!Tatiana! That hurt!” He was crouched down on one knee, gripping his shin with both hands.
“Good,” I snapped, popping the handles up on my suitcases and storming off, dragging my luggage behind me.
“Tati, wait.” Shuffled footsteps echoed after me. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of turning around, not even to see him limp, which I was ninety-nine percent sure he was doing. “I didn’t mean to insult you.”
I ignored him, my head held high.
“I was just surprised,” he said, finally catching up to my side. “You’ve never had a job before.”
“So? That doesn’t mean the idea of it is fucking laughable.” I smashed the button for the elevator, refusing to look at him. I hated how embarrassed I felt. Yes, I’d never had a job before. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t capable of having one.
“I’m sorry, Tati. I shouldn’t have laughed. I really am proud of you. Most people in your position wouldn’t even bother. They’d be content living off family money. You’re going to do it on your own, and that’s amazing.”
I knew Nikolai well enough to know when he was being fake and when he was being sincere. He meant every word he’d just said.
“Thank you.”
The elevator arrived with ading, the door opening wide. Nikolai helped me bring the suitcases in and then we were off, up to the seventh floor.
“What kind of job are you going to look for?” Nikolai asked, nudging me lightly with his shoulder.
“I have an interview at a small cafe across the road from campus.”
“A cafe?” he asked it plainly, but the twinkle in his eyes told me he wanted to laugh again. “I can’t picture you serving others.”
“Why? You think I’m that superficial?”
“What?” he frowned. “No. What I think is that you’ll punch the first customer who speaks rudely to you.”
“And that would be…bad?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“If you want to keep your job, yes, it would be very bad.”