Page 45 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

Andrey told me to stay put so I sat on the bottom step in the marble foyer waiting for him to come back. Tasha was still asleep but Andrey had sent a guard to stand outside her room just in case.

When Andrey returned, I raised my eyes to meet his gaze.

“Did you find him?”

“No,” he sounded frustrated. “We checked surveillance but could only catch part of him. Not enough to even capture any features or even how tall was he.”

“Maybe he was Nikolai’s friend?” I asked, hopeful. Although it didn’t make sense. If he was his friend, he would have called him directly; not stalked in front of his home.

He must have thought so too because he asked instead, “Can you describe him?”

“He was older,” I started. “That is pretty much all I can tell you. He had a hat on and sunglasses. It made it hard to see his face at all. First he started speaking in Russian, and when I told him I didn’t understand, he switched to English.”

A series of Russian words left him, and I imagined they were a string of curses as he pulled out his phone, pressed a button and brought it to his ear. He paused his mutterings for a moment, and with the faint sound of another voice coming across the line, he proceeded with more Russian. There was nothing more I could do, so I decided to return to my room. I really needed to learn at least some of this language.

“Olivia,” Andrey called out. “Nikolai is going to call you. Answer the phone, please.”

Ah, so he was talking to Nikolai. With a deep exhale, I gave him thumbs up and continued the trip to my room.

No sooner did I enter my bedroom, my phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Olivia, can you describe anything about the man that approached you?” Nikolai’s voice sent warmth through my body. I didn’t want to react like that to him. It didn’t make sense why my body melted at only hearing his voice. It was the reason I preferred to keep all my conversation through Oliver. I really liked Nikolai. His fierce protectiveness, his deep voice, the way he cared about his family and mine. Shit, I really liked everything about him!

“I really don’t have more information than what I told Andrey,” I answered with a deep sigh. “He spoke in Russian first. I told him I didn’t understand then he switched to English. He asked who lived here, I didn't answer, and then he asked if you were home. After that I hurried to try and locate security and ended up just coming back to the house to get Andrey. All I can tell you for certain is that he was older.”

A string of curses left his mouth, some in Russian and some in English. I sat on the bed, waiting for him to let it all out.

“Feel better now?” I asked him when he ended.

“No,” he retorted dryly, although I could detect a smile in his voice. “But thanks for asking.”

“No problem,” I replied chuckling softly. “You and my brother must be getting along very well, cause I swear he usually reacts the same. Like a few extra curses will make the world turn your way.”

His laugh echoed through the headset.

“You are right; we do get along well.” His confirmation didn’t surprise me at all.

I smiled, not at all surprised to hear him say that. “Did he already call you by your assigned nickname?” I couldn’t resist asking him.

His deep laugh echoed through the phone. “He sure did. I’m not sure how I like it though.”

“I’d stick to your full name,” I suggested smiling. “I like it much better,” I added without thinking.

“You do?” There was a hint of surprise in his voice at my admission, and I couldn’t blame him. I was surprised that those words left my lips without a second thought. The truth was I really loved his name.

“Yes, I do,” I answered in a purr. Damn it, this man was capturing me. “Did he come up with a name for Ilya?” I asked, clearing my throat uncomfortably.

“No, he didn’t. And it is the source of his frustration,” he cackled. “And Ilya’s. He attempted calling him Lya but that didn’t go over well.”

“It only means he likes you guys,” I chortled. “He only does it with people that matter to him.”

“That’s good to know,” he retorted wryly. “Besides, I prefer shorter names too.” A slight pause followed before he continued, “So do you have one?”

“Yes. He’s called me Livie ever since we were kids.”

“Livie,” he murmured. “I think I like it, but I like Olivia better.”

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