The Professional (The Game Maker #1)(78)
Author: Kresley Cole

My feet were rooted to the spot. “You told me you didn’t have any family left. And no siblings.”

Maksim tsked, sidling around Sevastyan. “Roman has two brothers. I am Maksim, the more handsome one. And you, Natalie Porter, are even lovelier than I expected. Evidently I need to schedule a trip to Nebraska.” He held out his hand, so I offered mine. He turned my hand to place a startling kiss on the pulse point at my wrist, glancing up with his penetrating blue eyes. “It’s a pleasure.”

Sevastyan didn’t like that at all. So joke him. I smiled back at Maksim. “Very nice to meet you.”

Sevastyan snatched my hand, using it to drag me back. “You will wait for me in our room.”

Dismissing me? He wasn’t even going to act guilty about the fact that he’d lied to me and been busted?

“No, Natalie will remain for drinks,” Maksim said, pouring shots. I supposed he didn’t have the same hang-ups over alcohol as his brother. “We’ll order in.” He was just as domineering as Sevastyan! “I refuse to leave until I get to know my sister-in-law.”

“I am not married to Sevastyan.”

“Details. You will be soon. Roman considers you engaged.”

“You mean plighted?”

“Oh, no, I mean on the cusp of a legal, binding marriage.”

Did Sevastyan just assume I would? The ass**le hadn’t even proposed! I felt my fists balling.

I’d asked him when I would get to know his business. He’d considered us engaged and still hadn’t deemed me worthy of his trust?

How much more twisted could this “relationship” get? “I wouldn’t put money on a wedding.”

Sevastyan ground his teeth until his jaw muscles twitched.

I turned to Maksim. “I heard you say you’ve been helping me. How?”

“I’m a politician in Russia. A powerful one.” He grinned, buffing his nails charmingly. Still, I sensed pain lurking inside him. Did he use his charm as a concealment, his own mask? “At present, a few of us politicians share the same resources as the vory in the mafiya—and even tactics. Roman knew I had men on hand to secure Berezka for you.”

“Then, in that case, spasibo.” Thank you.

Voice deep, he murmured, “Vsegda pozhaluista.” You’re quite welcome. This man’s charisma was off the charts. He gave me another grin that revealed white teeth. I recalled the one time I’d seen Sevastyan truly smile, and realized the two men looked even more similar than I’d thought. “You still call my brother by his surname?”

“That’s what he told me to call him.”

Maksim turned to him. “You’re no longer a mere enforcer. Your fiancée should call you something more personal.”

“I’m not his . . .” Oh, forget it. Neither man was listening to me.

The two stared each other down, Roman seeming on the verge of blows. Before the shit hit the fan, I might as well try to get answers out of one Sevastyan. I asked Maksim, “Why have you been meeting with him all week?”

“He’s been using me to help extricate you from the mafiya—trading syndicate holdings for clean ones of equal value. Like a billion-dollar game of Monopoly. He has power of attorney, and I have the means to get these things done secretly and quickly. So I have—without even a single thanks, I might add.” Maksim cast a pointed look at his brother, but there seemed to be an underlying amusement in him, as if he found this situation humorous.

I whirled around on Sevastyan. “You could have taken me to those meetings, or at the very least told me about them. They concerned my inheritance!”

“You’ve shown no interest in this money—”

“You’re one to talk, brother,” Maksim cut in. To me, he said, “Roman could have made himself a billionaire this week. But for reasons I don’t follow, he refused to rob you, refused to break his word to your father. He’s worked on your behalf to disentangle Kovalev’s legacy from crime. And once that’s complete, Roman will step in as vor in the territory.”

My eyes narrowed on Sevastyan. “I asked you about this! Seems like that might’ve been a decision we made together.” He’d signed on for a new position without even a mention to me. Because I wasn’t a partner; I was a possession.

One didn’t ask one’s favorite toy to discuss potential career paths. Ugh!

Scowling down at me, he bit out the words, “Natalie, upstairs—now.”

“You did not just bark another order at me.” In front of his brother? Blood heated my cheeks. Did he think he could command me like this simply because he did in bed?

Why wouldn’t he believe that? Dear God, I hadn’t made things better by trusting him sexually—I’d made them worse.

Weeks ago, I’d asked myself what I was prepared to do to get more from Sevastyan.

My definitive answer: not this.

I needed to accept that nothing I could do was going to move the needle with this man. He would always be closed off. And I deserved more than a satellite’s orbit and a collection of lies.

I deserved preservation of self. Or I’d rather be alone.

It was as if a neon sign was slowly crackling, clicking, popping to life in my brain. The lights spelled: This relationship is doomed, dumbass!

I had steel in my backbone and fire in my belly. My time was valuable; I didn’t reward shitty behavior with more of it. I can’t fix him, Paxán.

Maksim told me, “Don’t listen to him, dorogaya moya.” My dear. “You need to teach him that orders—outside of some . . . situations—are unwelcome.”

How much did this man know about my sex life? If they went to the same club, did the two brothers share similar interests?

You know what? That is none of my business.

“Roman is a handful, no?” Maksim continued. “A silent, brooding handful. If it’s any consolation, he has always talked this little, sharing nothing of himself. When we were children, quiet was rewarded. The opposite was . . . not.”

I didn’t have time to puzzle at his words before Sevastyan growled, “Zatknis’ na hui!” Shut the f**k up! Clearly about to go ballistic, he told me, “Leave now! Or I will carry you to our room.”

When I told Maksim, “It was a pleasure to meet you,” he flashed me a look of disappointment, as if he’d thought I would fight more. “I’ll be upstairs,” I said. A lie, to put with Sevastyan’s.