Page 45 of Unwillingly Yours

Chapter Twenty-Two

Aleksey

“Make sure that those documents are combed over,” I said as I stepped into the lobby of the building. “And that no one breathes a word until I’m sure that my uncle didn’t have anything to do with this.”

Boris nodded as he followed me. “Might as well put up a fucking billboard at this point.”

I rubbed a hand over my face, feeling the weariness of the day’s events heavy on my shoulders. I had conducted countless interviews with those involved in an attempt to try and figure out what the hell was going on with the missing payments. But no one seemed to know what had happened.

We weren’t talking about a couple hundred dollars here. We were talking about hundreds of thousands of dollars, enough to be noticed. Either someone was fucking stupid, or they wanted my attention.

Pushing the elevator button, I turned to Boris. “I need more proof.”

“Understood,” he said, nodding to the closed doors. “You going to go anywhere else tonight?”

“No.” I thought about Elia and our ruined day together, shaking my head. “Nowhere else.”

The shit-eating grin on his face made me want to punch him. “Don’t you dare say a word.”

He held his hands up. “By your orders, Aleksey Fyodorovich.”

I leveled a glare at him as the doors opened and he stepped inside. “I will be in touch.”

He gave me a salute before the doors closed, leaving me alone for the first time since I stepped outside the penthouse this morning. What a draining day. I had gotten nothing that would help, nothing that could even give me the means to go after my uncle.

All I had gotten from this day was a headache and more anger than before.

Someone was trying to send me a message. And I couldn’t figure it out for the life of me.

The doors opened and I stepped inside the penthouse; the smells of garlic and tomato hung heavy in the air. Elia was cooking again. My stomach rumbled. “Elia?” I called out, stripping off my coat and draping it over the chair.

I heard her bare feet moving across the hardwood floor before she appeared from the hallway, tucking her hair behind her ears. “You’re home.”

I couldn’t move, much less speak. She looked absolutely stunning.

She had on a slip of a dress, one that showed off her shoulders and a hint of her cleavage as well as most of her legs. Her hair was pinned up, but a single curl dangled tantalizingly near her ear.

But it was her smile that took my breath away. I had worried about sending her with Alya today, only because my sister could be a bit much to deal with.

As it turned out, I should’ve been worried about myself instead.

Finding my voice, I cleared my throat. “How was your day?”

“Great,” she stated, clasping her hands before her. The movement caused her breasts to shift and I groaned inwardly, feeling the all-too-familiar pull on my groin as a result. How quickly could I get that dress off her body? Or did I want her to keep it on, so that I might drink in the hint of her curves hidden underneath it?

Decisions, decisions.

“Your sister is amazing. I think we are going to become good friends.”

My mouth suddenly went dry, and I forced myself to walk over to the bar, hoping that she couldn’t tell the bulge in the front of my pants. My hand actually shook as I picked up the bottle of whiskey and poured a glass, taking a slow sip to calm myself.

“That’s good,” I finally said. “She is nothing like me.”

Elia came to stand next to me, the smell of her perfume teasing my senses. “Did you accomplish everything you set out to do today, Alyosha?”

My name came out like a purr from her lips and I had to fight not to take her against the wall, not to press my weary body against hers and lose myself for a few hours. “No, I didn’t.”

Her hand rested on my arm and she forced me to look at her, concern furrowing her brow. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

---