Page 58 of Stalk Me

“There were these absolutely riveting shots of someone doing yoga at six a.m. I particularly enjoyed the extensive notes about her coffee preferences. ‘Two sugars, splash of cream, but only before noon. Afternoon coffee black.’ Really, brother? And my personal favorite: ‘Sleep position analysis tends to curl toward the right side, suggesting?—’”

“Alexi,” I growl, but he’s already doubled over laughing.

“Oh! And the spreadsheet! Three weeks of documented outfits, color-coded by how much they ‘pleased’ you. I didn’t even know there were that many shades of approval between ‘acceptable’ and ‘immediately remove.’”

Sofia’s eyes are wide as she glances at me quizzically. My obsession indeed took on a life of its own. “Is he being serious?”

I clench my jaw. “You know I took a serious interest in you and your life, but we’re moving past that, right?”

The stubborn set of her jaw tells me that she’s not as willing to move past it as I’d hoped.

Erik coughs to hide his amusement.

“I can show you the file structure later.” Alexi winks at Sofia. “It’s categorized more meticulously than Dmitri’s sock drawer.”

“I will end you,” I state flatly, but Alexi grins wider.

“What was that note about the red dress? Something about it being ‘criminally distracting’ and needing to be ‘confiscated for public safety’?”

I launch across the mahogany table, crashing a crystal glass onto the floor. Alexi, the little shit, jumps back with that insufferable grin still plastered on his face.

“Too slow, old man!” He darts behind a chair, but I’m already moving.

I catch him mid-stride and tackle him onto the leather sofa. We tumble in a mess of limbs, my hands seeking purchase on his shoulders while he tries to squirm away.

“Delete. Those. Files.” I punctuate each word with an attempt to pin him down.

“Never!” He laughs, jabbing an elbow into my ribs. “They’re my new favorite bedtime reading!”

Erik and Dmitri watch with identical expressions of amusement as I get my youngest brother in a headlock. Alexi might be quick, but I didn’t become who I am by being slow.

“Uncle! Uncle!” He taps my arm, still laughing.

I release him and straighten my jacket, trying to regain some dignity. When I glance at Sofia, I expect to see horror or disgust at my loss of control. Instead, her eyes are bright with joy, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

The sight stops me cold. She’s watching us—watching me—with pure delight as if seeing something precious. Not the calculated violence she knows I’m capable of, not the controlled businessman I present to the world, but this... this moment of brotherly chaos.

I settle back into my chair, studying her expression. She reaches for my hand under the table, squeezing gently.

“So,” she says, eyes dancing. “Tell me more about this color-coding system.”

Alexi’s renewed laughter echoes through the room as I groan, but I can’t seem to summon my usual anger. Not with her looking at me like that.

22

SOFIA

My fingers trace along the marble countertop, watching the early morning light filter through the towering windows of Nikolai’s penthouse. My reflection stares back at me—hair tousled from last night’s activities, wearing only his white dress shirt.

“You’re thinking too hard,malishka.” Nikolai’s voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I turn to face him, crossing my arms. “This isn’t normal. You kidnapped me, and now we’re playing house?”

His alluring gray eyes darken as he marches toward me. “Is that what you believe?”

“I don’t know what to think.” I back away, but my body betrays me, heating under his predatory gaze. “Last night at dinner with your brothers, I acted like your girlfriend. Like this is all perfectly fine.”

“Because it is.” His hand catches my wrist, pulling me against his chest. “You belong by my side.”

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