Thief (Boston Underworld #5)(29)

“He is in the main room,” she announces.

Nikolai nods and downs the amber liquid in his glass with one long swallow. Nonna leaves with the promise to return with another, and then we are off again. He guides me into the main room where our guest is waiting. And once I set eyes on him, I recognize him.

Alexei.

Like Nikolai, he has an overbearing presence. Tall, lean, and muscular with ice blue eyes. He rises to greet me, and his eyes never leave my face as I say a quiet hello.

“Nakya, you remember Lyoshka.”

I nod.

“Thank you for coming,” Nikolai tells him.

“I can’t stay long.”

Both men are rigid with equally cool features. The civility between them is forced, though I don’t know why. But when Nonna directs us to the dining table, Nikolai offers the head seat to his guest of honor.

Perhaps he is trying to win him over, but more than likely, it’s a matter of respect. There is always a pecking order in the mafia, and in this particular scenario, it would appear Alexei outranks Nikolai.

We take our seats, and for some length of time, they discuss business in Russian while I poke at the first course. Under any other circumstances, I’d love minestrone, but I find it an odd choice to be served this evening. I’m not hungry anyway, and my thoughts are far away when Nikolai barks my name. I look up from my plate.

“Eat,” he demands.

I make a point to disregard him, informing Nonna that I’m finished when she comes for the dishes. She frowns but removes the bowl regardless.

The conversation continues across the table, but it seems to be increasingly one-sided. When I look up from my salad, I find it’s because Alexei’s attention has diverted to me. He seems unaware that Nikolai is still speaking when he interrupts.

“Who are you?”

I have no reason to be rude to him. There is, in truth, a small part of me that basks in the power he holds over my captor. Nikolai is watching our exchange closely, his eyes challenging me to speak out of turn.

“My name is Tanaka Valentini.” I offer Alexei a warm smile. “I’m here as collateral for a debt my father owes.”

If Alexei reacts to my honesty, I don’t see it. My eyes are locked on Nikolai, taking a small victory in the way his fingers stiffen around his glass as he brings it to his lips.

I turn my attention back to Alexei. “And may I ask who you are?”

“I am of little importance,” he answers. “In fact, it puzzles me exceedingly what honor has bestowed a bastard like me the presence of your captor this evening.”

Nikolai’s eyes flash. “I do not trouble myself with the relations you speak of. It seems you have mistaken me for Sergei.”

Alexei shrugs. “It is hard, sometimes, to tell the difference between you two.”

A crimson flush edges up the pulsing ridge of Nikolai’s throat, and my stomach flips in response. I know I probably pushed him too far, but Alexei is unconcerned about his role, even when Nikolai excuses himself from the room.

When he’s gone, and the room is silent, I blurt something that would be better kept to myself. “Are you really his brother?”

Alexei pierces me with his eyes. “How did you know?”

My eyes wander over his features, and while it isn’t blatant, there are some similarities. It’s mostly their mannerisms, though, that I have seemed to connect. “You look alike. And you also hinted at it. Bastard. Relations. I think the only missing ingredient is brotherly affection.”

His eyes study me curiously while he sips from his cognac. “It’s hard to warm to a man like Nikolai.”

I think maybe he’s trying to tell me that Nikolai is not a good man. He doesn’t need to say so. My heart still hurts from the memory of last night.

“Does he treat you well?” Alexei asks.

I find myself nodding on autopilot, though I’m not sure why. It’s probably not wise to say anything else. Their hatred runs deep, but guaranteed, their loyalty runs deeper. It’s the mafia way.

“Why did you come to dinner tonight?” I ask. “If you don’t get along with him?”

Alexei responds with a flippant gesture of his hand. “I’m not sure. We still have business to discuss.”

Nonna returns with another course of roast and vegetables. While Nikolai is absent, I decide to eat a little because it smells good.

“If you stay here long, perhaps you can come visit my wife sometime,” Alexei suggests. “She could use a friend.”

My fork halts, and I look up at him.

A friend.

I’ve never had a friend. I wouldn’t even know what that relationship entails, but the opportunity sounds too good to pass up.

“I would like that very much,” I answer. “What is her name?”

For the first time since his arrival, there is a sign of life in Alexei’s eyes. “Her name is Talia.”

“Talia,” I repeat. “It’s a beautiful name.”

“She’s a beautiful woman.” He smiles. “But she is not yet familiar with this world, and I fear that it makes her an easy target.”

I nod in understanding. Growing up in this life, I’m intimately acquainted with the baggage that comes with it. But for an outsider, it can be disorienting, I’m sure.

Alexei retrieves the phone from his pocket and wakes the screen. “I have a photo of her. Let me show you.”