Russian Mobster's Pregnant Mistress (14 page)

She gave a little sigh. Ivan wasn’t just good looking; he was downright yummy. With those huge brown eyes and crazy long lashes, he looked like more of a dreamer and a thinker than a fighter. Maybe he was a professor. He sort of had the look with that dark hair falling over his forehead and a perpetually thoughtful expression on his handsome face.

Of course, he wasn’t really built like a professor. The guy had a body made to be on a billboard. She almost wished they’d been at the beach so she could have seen him take off his shirt. She was willing to bet that he had a set of abdominal muscles that would look damn good all oiled up with suntan lotion. Yep. A pair of sunglasses and maybe a book would complete his whole image perfectly.

Katrina was still fantasizing about Ivan the possible professor when she used her backside to push open the door to her father’s shop. The bell jingled as she entered. She held the tray of coffees aloft. At least she’d remembered Nika’s blueberry muffin. Katrina was always forgetting mundane details like that. It was a consequence of always having her nose in a book and her head in the clouds imagining some esoteric solution to the world’s problems.

“There you are,” her father said with a smile. “I was wondering if you’d decided to take a trek to the coffee shop across town.”

“No.” Katrina carefully gauged her father’s mood. He seemed jumpy, as if he were having a difficult time holding himself together. “Although I did meet someone new at Mamacita’s.”

“Is that right?” Her father was frantically piling rich brown soil into a pot. “Who did you meet?”

“His name is Ivan.” Katrina set the coffee tray on her father’s worktable and began carefully removing the cups from their little slots. “And I think he knows the man who was in here when I left.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. In fact, I know he does.” She handed her father his latte. “I guess Maksim is his brother.” Katrina frowned. She really wanted to know what business Maksim had with her father, and there was only one way to find out. “Papa, why was that Maksim man here? And why did he look so angry? Did we mess up his flower order? I know their father passed away last year. Were they unsatisfied with a gravesite piece? I don’t understand why he would come in here and act that way.”

“What way?” her father asked sharply.

“I saw him, Papa.” She bit her lower lip, wondering how much she should tell. “When I went out, I looked behind me and saw Maksim in here pointing at you and speaking very loudly. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but he sounded angry.”

“Katrina, you should not pry into business that is not yours,” her father said stiffly.

“Papa, I’m a part of this family. What happens in the shop
is
my business. Especially if we have some customer who is coming in here bullying you because he’s angry that his order got messed up.” Katrina’s temper was starting to build. She was a slow burn sort of person. But when she got riled, she could have a self-righteous tantrum better than anyone else she knew.

“You might be a part of this family, Katrina, but you have been gone far too long to know anything about what’s going on.” Papa set his jaw as though he did not intend to budge on this opinion. “Quite frankly, I want you to focus on your studies while you are here and stay out of the shop business.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe she was being excluded like this!

Her father narrowed his gaze. “And furthermore, you will stay away from Ivan and Maksim Petrov. Do you understand? I do not want you to speak to either of them ever again. And that is final!”

“But, Papa, Ivan is nice.” Katrina thought about her vision of him as a slightly disheveled professor. “I think the two of us could get along well. Maybe we could even find a way to get Maksim to calm down and stop bugging you.”

Her father gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Go back to your books and your computer, foolish child. And stay away from the Petrovs.”

Katrina might have argued some more, but her father left her for the walk-in cooler and let the door slam behind him as though he were absolutely through discussing any of this with her.

***

“The man owes us tens of thousands of dollars, Ivan,” Maksim said with a snort. “I hardly think he would welcome the idea of you dating his daughter.”

Ivan hated to admit it, but Maksim was absolutely right. There was no way Denis Sokolov would welcome any advances by Ivan toward his daughter. It was a shame really, because Katrina Sokolov was the most interesting female Ivan had ever come across.

“This is just one more reason why I detest our father’s methods,” Ivan told his brother darkly. “It leaves such a mess.”

Maksim helped himself to the vodka sitting on the sideboard in Ivan’s study. The penthouse overlooking the Straits of Florida was one of Ivan’s favorite properties. Generally speaking, he tried not to stay in one place for too long. All of his homes, safe houses, and businesses were hidden beneath the facade of a dozen or more dummy corporations. In addition, he had more than a few shipping interests and half a dozen chop shops that also did some legitimate auto mechanic business. Recently, the notion of going legal was beginning to appeal to him. Ivan was tired of running and hiding.

“Yes, but our dearly departed father’s methods left us all of this.” Maksim waved his hand around the room to indicate the opulent surroundings. “He knew that weakness spelled disaster and spent his life proving he was not weak.”

“Not emotionally, but don’t you find it ironic that it was his heart that eventually gave out?” Ivan gave a bitter chuckle and moved toward the bank of windows overlooking the water. In the hazy twilight, he couldn’t make out the details of the waves coming in and out on the beach.

Maksim snorted. “Everyone dies of a heart attack eventually. No matter what kills you, your heart stops and they call it cardiac arrest. Boom. You’re dead.”

“Wow. Great outlook, little brother.” Ivan shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if Maksim was doomed to be alone and lonely in this life.

“Back to your romantic foibles,” Maksim urged. “When I say that Denis owes us tens of thousands of dollars, I’m not kidding.”

“I know. I’ve seen the books.”

“He stopped paying protection money years ago.”

“Did anyone ever go out and ask him what the problem was?” Ivan wondered. “That was where I thought Nicolai always dropped the ball. What’s wrong with
asking
why they aren’t paying?”

“Um, I’m going to go with the whole makes us look like weaklings thing again,” Maksim retorted. He cleared his throat and affected a super feminine tone of voice. “Um excuse me, dear business owner, so…like I was wondering if you’re having just a smidge of financial trouble because you’re totally not paying us the amount of money we told you that you had to pay even though you really didn’t want to…”

Ivan couldn’t suppress his laughter. People never believed him when he told them that Maksim had a terrific sense of humor. His brother always acted the part of heartless badass because that was the role assigned to him by their father. Truthfully, Maksim was about as softhearted as anyone could be, and he found humor in everything.

“Okay, so maybe not like that.” Ivan pursed his lips thoughtfully, trying to put his thoughts together. “I’m talking more about what the original relationship was supposed to be between a
mafiya
organization and the people they agreed to protect. The idea was symbiotic. It kept down crime and also helped increase revenues because people felt safe enough to shop locally. The people who paid protection money weren’t supposed to feel like they were being extorted. And truthfully, if they couldn’t afford to pay, the first question for the
mafiya
should have been to wonder why the customer hadn’t had enough business. Who was stealing it? Why were the locals patronizing other businesses?”

“Always the idealist,” Maksim murmured. “Our father ruled by fear.”

“Yeah, but do you really want to follow in those footsteps?” Ivan asked quietly.

Maksim’s expression turned grim. “I don’t think I can, Ivan. I’m tired of strong arming people for money I’m not sure I even believe they owe.”

“Yet we can’t just run around forgiving everyone’s debts either,” Ivan moaned.

Maksim grunted. “No, because we would look like a couple of pussies.”

“So maybe we start with this Sokolov guy,” Ivan mused. “Let’s give it a week and then go in and try to find out why he’s not paying. Maybe ask a few questions this time instead of just threatening to break his knee caps, or whatever it is that you do.”

“You know, I get a little tired of being your hired thug,” Maksim groused. “I swear you don’t even have a clue what goes on.”

“I’m trying to stay outside the rage fest so I can maybe take things in a new direction.” Ivan had to admit that Maksim had every right to feel angry about the way things had worked out. Ivan got to be the benevolent ruler, and Maksim was the evil villain.

“And what if this Sokolov just flat out refuses to play ball?” Maksim wanted to know. “He’s definitely a stubborn old man. He could easily just decide to blow us off and keep his money, his information, and his daughters.”

“Then I guess we cross that bridge when someone pushes us off of it,” Ivan said with more optimism than he felt. Life could be so incredibly messy at times.

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