Page 62 of Mountain Mens' Curvy Obsession

I’m talking about Leo Sokolov, of course, but I’m keeping that name to myself for Breonna’s safety.

“My brother Aleks couldn’t stand the guy. Yet, he and Dad had to be nice and amenable to him. I do remember this one time we were all in the tearoom.”

Breonna gives me a curious look. “And?”

“And this guy… he said something, I can’t make out the words, but it pushed my brother’s buttons. Aleks got up, but Dad pulled him back into his seat. I was worried it might lead to a fight. I just don’t… Ugh, I can’t remember what he said.”

“You know, they say the olfactory sense can trigger memories better than anything else,” Breonna offers. “Do you remember what kind of tea was being served? I assume that’s what the tearoom was for.”

“That was my mom’s little passion. Tea. The British style. Five o’clock teatime, with cookies and fancy French pastries or cake or whatever.”

Annoyingly enough, I’d partake in those tea sessions, only for my mother to subtly berate me for having one too many cookies. No wonder I’m so insecure about my figure. The guys were so right about that. Sighing deeply, I put that bitter thought away and focus on the tea, instead.

“Here, smell this,” Breonna says and gives me one of the tea boxes. “Was it like this?”

I inhale deeply. To my surprise, it triggers a different memory: I’m standing in front of a mirror, wearing a pretty blue dress. I’m fifteen, and my brother lovingly ties a corsage around my wrist.

“No, but I think it had a hint of Mandarin in it,” I tell Breonna.

She gives me another box, curiously watching my reaction. She’s right about one thing, though, smell is definitely a good memory trigger.

Finally, we find the tea flavor that hits the right spot. Mandarin and jasmine. The scent hits so hard and deep, I’m practically transported back in time.

I’m sitting in my chair in our tearoom. Aleks is seated next to me. Across the round table from us, our father keeps to Leo’s side.

There is tension. The air feels so heavy and thick. I look down and see that I’ve opted to dress conservatively. I’m wearing a long, dark green dress with a white lace collar and sleeves. My scalp hurts a little, probably because I’m wearing my hair in a tight bun. Too tight. I just want this over with.

“Leo, here’s the thing,” my father tells the man with cold eyes and dark hair. “The original agreement is not something I can honor anymore.”

“Oh?” the man calmly replies, but I can feel his rage simmering beneath the surface.

I look at my brother. He keeps his back straight and his chin up. “We’re willing to offer something else in return, something far more appealing to your objectives regarding the expansion of your operation,” Aleks says.

Leo doesn’t budge. Instead, he lets his gaze do his talking for him. Anger, contempt.

“Thirty percent of my territory,” my father says. “All yours. Entire neighborhoods for you to further develop. I’ll even hand over the property deeds and the related business paperwork. Every transaction will be made in a legal manner, aboveboard. I’ve got my accountants already working on it.”

Leo raises an eyebrow. “What’s the figure? Based on previous years.”

“About $42.5 million,” my father says. “Please. It’s the best I can do under these circumstances, and I’m sure the Bratva council will agree, if we take it to them. I’m hoping it won’t get that far. I trust you’re a reasonable man who understands the love a father has for his children.”

I think I’m going to be sick.

“Or I could just kill you right here, right now, and take what is rightfully mine,” Leo says.

That’s what sets Aleks off and has my father reaching across the table to stop him. Even I intervene, pulling Aleks back into his seat before he gets up.

“I’d love to see you try,” my brother snarls. “In my own home! The audacity alone is grounds for an instant execution, and none of the other families would bat an eye.”

“Aleks,” I plead with him. “No.”

“Forgive my son,” our father interjects. “Leo, listen to me. I’m trying to do right by you here. What we originally agreed upon is no longer an option. Whether any of us likes it or not. I’m offering something even better for you at great cost to me. Surely, you see the value here.”

“Anya,” Breonna’s voice snaps me back. “Honey, you’re getting pale.”

I give her a confused look. I feel way off. Breaking into a cold sweat, I find myself clinging to the countertop for dear life, my legs suddenly weak.

“Oh, crap,” I manage, then bolt toward the bathroom.

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