Page 32 of Ruins
My patience wearing thin, I finally speak up. “Do you think you could dismiss the girls so we can get down to business?” I ask, my tone flat but sharp enough to cut through the noise.
Maksim smirks, tipping his glass toward me lazily. “Why don’t you lighten Santo up, Ana? He’s about to be a married man. Show him a good time.”
Before I can react, the redhead slides onto my lap, her perfume so thick it clings to the back of my throat.
I stand abruptly, catching her waist to steady her. “No.”
Maksim and Angelo’s laughter follows me as I descend into the crowd, weaving through bodies moving to the pulse of the music. Their sweat and perfume mix in the air, but I filter it out as I approach the bar.
“Santo!” The bartender greets me before I can speak, pouring whiskey without waiting for an order.
“Busy night?” I ask, glancing at the dance floor.
“Busier than usual.” He gestures toward the entrance, and my gaze follows instinctively.
Then, she walks in.
Vasilisa glides into the club, and suddenly, everything around her fades. Golden hair bouncing with each step, framing her delicate features in soft, loose waves. And that dress… midnight blue, clinging to her like it was made for her, dipping low in a sharp, daring V that catches my breath. It hugs her slender frame, tracing every subtle curve, clinging in ways that shouldn’t affect me, but the way it catches the light makes it hard to look away.
It’s the kind of dress that turns heads. The kind that invites attention, lingering stares, and thoughts that men shouldn’t have aboutmyfuture wife. A slow, unfamiliar heat curls in my chest. Possessiveness, sharp and sudden.
She’s supposed to be mine.
No one else should be looking.
She chats animatedly with the brunette she walked in with, her face lights up with a bright smile that is impossible to ignore. Pietro follows closely, a silent shadow at her side. My eyes narrow. I thought he was her sister’s guard now.
I take a slow sip of whiskey, but the taste barely registers.
Without thinking, I head back to the booth, sinking into the seat next to Maksim. My eyes never stray far from her.
She’s found a table to sit at directly in my eye line, she wears a neon blue band on her wrist indicating she’s underage to drink. Despite that, Pietro brings them both drinks as the two women continue to talk. She laughs and the air around me fades away, her beauty triples the brighter her smile is.
My focus solely on her.
I wonder what was said that evoked that laugh and I want it to happen again.
“So, I send the girls away just for you to sit here in silence while you watchyourgirl?” Maksim teases beside me breaking me from my thoughts.
My girl.
I remove my gaze from Vasilisa and shift my attention to Maksim and Angelo. “I didn’t expect her to be here.”
“She’s not supposed to be,” Maksim says passing a sharp look in Vasilisa’s direction, I notice then that Pietro is staring up at Maksim. “She should be at home preparing for her upcoming nuptials, but you know women these days. I’ll allow her to have the night.”
Angelo watches her too, and something about the way his eyes linger makes me tense.
“She’s even more beautiful in person,” Angelo comments, his tone light but observant.
My grip tightens on the glass.
“She’s my favorite cousin,” Maksim says with pride. “She’s built for this life.”
“Built for it?” I murmur, eyes fixed on her.
Maksim leans back, tipping his drink toward the ceiling, finishing it before answering. “She’ll be the perfect wife. Knows how to keep quiet and stand by her man. She respects the business, understands what it means to belong to it. She’ll be whatever you need her to be.”
His words leave a bitter taste behind.
