Page 10 of Disgraced (Russian Sinners 3)

Sergei

The moment her small hand landed in mine, my chest swelled with pride. This was a woman who would be my wife soon. Her eyes were focused on me, as if every breath she took was for me. And I fucking loved it. I wanted to be everything she wanted and needed. Maybe there could be one thing in my life that I do right. She didn’t know I was her intended husband, but if she grew to like me before she found out, we could have a good marriage.

As soon as we stepped outside the hotel, my Bugatti waited for me.

“This is me,” I told her as I opened the door of the car for her.

Throwing a side glance at me, she commented, “You like cars, huh?”

“What makes you say that?” She was right, I did like cars.

“This is not exactly a car you just buy at the dealership.” She eyed the car appreciatively as she sat herself into the seat.

I shut the door behind her and went around to the driver seat.

“Do you not like it?” I asked her; although I could see she did.

“I like it,” she replied smiling. “I would never get a car like this but I like it.”

“What kind of car do you drive?” I wanted to hear her talk, her voice smooth and soft. I knew what kind of car she drove; saw her speeding firsthand. But I’d have to pretend for a bit. No big deal; she’d never find out.

“Jeep,” she turned her head, her dark eyes on me. “Drives my dad crazy but I do like my baby.”

“It’s your baby?” I asked in surprise. Women usually weren’t attached to their vehicles. “Why does it drive your dad crazy?”

“Yes, my baby,” she smiled, her eyes shining. “It is the first thing I bought all on my own, with my own money. Not my dad or mom’s. Just mine. And it drives my dad crazy because I usually drive it top down. He objects to the safety of it.”

I could understand that. Nothing quite beats the feeling of something you got all on your own. Dimitry and Nikolai have always ensured they provided for me first, before they took care of themselves. They gave me a cut of profits, even when I didn’t participate in the transaction. It took years of convincing that it wasn’t necessary. The feeling I had when my first business deal went through was priceless. Giving them a cut of my profits was even better because they fought accepting it. They didn't quite understand my objections till that very moment.

I appreciated them both and loved them as if they were my true blood brothers, but they got it ingrained into them to care for me. From that point on, if I participated in the transactions, we shared profits. If I decided not to pursue a deal with them, they finally agreed not to send money my way. God knew we had more than plenty.

“Top down like this?” I teased as I pushed a button and my top lowered.

A wide smile spread across her face and she tilted her head up to the sun, wind blowing through her ponytail.

“Yes, just like that,” she beamed, tilting her face to the sky.

She was really beautiful. She looked younger than her twenty-five years. While I knew life had hardened me, there was nothing harsh about her. Her parents did a good job of protecting her. Although she was the daughter of the Boston head, you would never guess that from looking at Scarlett. Usually, mobsters kept their daughters tucked away from the world, but not Scarlett. She attended a somewhat normal high school, got in trouble quite a bit for partying hard, then went off to college. I was surprised to hear that her father let her live away from home. It seemed so uncharacteristic, but he said he wanted his daughter to enjoy her life. All in all, Scarlett led a somewhat normal life with her friends.

I drove through downtown St. Petersburg, down Nevsky Prospekt street. Scarlett’s eyes darted left and right, soaking it all in. My goal was to park by the Winter Palace and stroll down Neva River with her before we grabbed something to eat at my favorite restaurant.

“Not too much sightseeing?” I teased her and she playfully hit my arm.

“Very funny,” she chided back. “Actually, it is the perfect amount of sightseeing.”

She returned her attention to the surroundings. Her eyes soaked it all in. Every so often, her gaze would return to me and she’d smile. I liked it, her easy and unreserved grin just for me.

“Anastasia is right though,” she muttered as if she was talking to herself. “This place really is beautiful.”

“Who is Anastasia?” I asked her.

“Nobody,” she replied back, never glancing my way. “Is that the Winter Palace?”

“It sure is,” I told her. “We could walk down the river and then grab something to eat. How does that sound?”

“Perfect,” she admitted. Her eyes shone and I had to tear my gaze away from her or risk crashing my Bugatti.

Once I parked my car, the two of us walked down the river like longtime lovers, her hand in mine. It was mind blowing how at ease I felt with her. I only met her this morning, although I had known about her for eight years now. As a light breeze swept through, it made her dress cling to her body, displaying all her curves to me. And although I loved her body, it was her personality I enjoyed even more.

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