Alexei shook his head, scowling with confusion. “Why do you ask me this? And why do you have bag?”
“Because tonight my father gave me an ultimatum. He said either I break-up with you or he’ll cut me off entirely. And guess what?”
Alexei rarely smiled, but when he did it softened his entire face. “You choose me.”
She nodded with a chagrinned smile. “I chose you. But if it turns out you’re not in love with me like I’m in love with you, this is going to be really awkward and embarrassing, especially since I’m going to have to move in with you until I can figure out a new non-Daddy-endorsed living situation.”
This was meant to be a joke, but as with most things, Alexei took her seriously. “Of course I love you. You are my kotenok, my heart.” He took her overnight bag from her. “Come, come inside. I will show you. You will not look for new apartment. You save money and live with me. I can give you three drawers and half closet—”
He would have gone on, but Eva cut him off with a kiss that quickly turned passionate. And by the time Alexei lowered her on to his floor mattress, she was more than certain she’d made the exact right decision.
Worst decision she’d ever made, she declared silently to herself on Alexei’s luxurious aircraft eight years later. She closed her laptop with disgust, unable to concentrate on composing an email to her son—the one she was desperately afraid of Alexei finding out about. Instead, she turned her attention to the New York skyline as they descended into LaGuardia Airport. One of those buildings belonged to Alexei in its entirety. Who knew what type of man he was now, and who knew what he’d demand of her, now that he had her and her entire hometown at his mercy.
Chapter Six
ALEXEI had just received a text from Emilio that the plane had landed at LaGuardia and Eva was on her way to their Midtown office building, when Emilio himself got on the line to say his uncle was calling from Russia and wanted to talk with him.
There were few rules from their crime family days that he still adhered to, but one of them was when an older family member calls, the younger family member is obligated to drop everything and pick up.
“Uncle,” he said without preamble and in his native Russian. “What can I do for you?”
“Google Alerts just told me you have bought Drummond Oil. I would like to talk about this with you.”
“There is nothing to talk about Uncle,” he said, wishing Sergei had never gotten the bright idea to start receiving Google Alerts on his on nephew. His uncle wasn’t that great at keeping up with the company’s own business reports, but receiving Google Alerts every time Alexei’s name came up in the news made it easier for him to poke his nose into both Alexei’s personal and formal business. “It is a good investment and I like good investments.”
“When our advisors said we should invest in oil over here, you said no, you didn’t like it, and you chose to focus on other natural resources,” his uncle said. “That is what you declared. Why then are we getting involved with oil now and with such a little company? Does this mean we will no longer be investing in Matsuda Steel and the Sinclair Industries deal is off the table? Will we be expanding into oil in Russia, too? Because I have contacts from the old days who will be able to help us with this.”
Alexei closed his eyes in irritation. This was exactly why he’d refused to deal with oil in Russia. It could be very lucrative, yes, but his uncle would have insisted on doing business with the same people they’d done business with when they were a crime family. No matter how many millions of rubles had flooded into his bank account, because of Alexei’s decision seven years ago to decriminalize their family business, Sergei continued to argue for a return to the old ways.
But Alexei did realize he had no one but himself to blame for this call. Buying Drummond Oil had given his uncle just the excuse he needed to push his agenda again.
“No, the Matsuda deal is still on the table and I fully intend to remain mostly in metals and natural resources outside of oil. Do not concern yourself with this new purchase, Uncle. I will only hold on to the company for a little while before selling it again.”
“You bought a company only to resell it? Why?”
Alexei wasn’t about to tell him the true answer: revenge. Instead he said, “I have my reasons.”
“I will start looking into possible investments over here,” his uncle declared. “Maybe you will extend these reasons to the companies your old uncle would like you to look at as well. I was more than an enforcer, you know. I advised your father, and I kept this family going while you were having your American adventure.”
That’s what his uncle called working like a mule to get his MBA. For a moment, Alexei’s temper flared. He loved his uncle, but sometimes he suspected he resented the profitable direction in which Alexei had taken the company. If it were up to him, they’d still be scrapping in the street like dogs.
But then again, who was he to judge his uncle for living in the past? He had just spent millions of dollars on a small oil company just to get revenge against a woman he should be beyond caring about. There was no reasonable way to explain that, and even he could see this landed on the wrong side of obsession. He comforted himself with the fact that it would be over soon. He’d have his revenge, and Eva would be sorry she ever crossed the “fresh off the boat” Russian who had given her his heart in full.
“Uncle, I must go. I have an important meeting.”
“I will make that list and call you back,” his uncle said. Then he hung up, not waiting for Alexei to agree or disagree.
* * * *
The elevator ride up to Alexei’s offices felt like the longest one she had ever taken. Not just because his offices were situated at the very top of a very tall building, but also because she was standing beside Emilio. She had considered him a friend back when he’d been Alexei’s counterpart at the School of Social Work’s security desk. They’d been friendly acquaintances even before she started dating Alexei. In truth, she’d joke with her friends how career services must have really like the SSW, because they had gotten not one, but two hot security guards. Emilio, who was still tall, lean, and exceedingly handsome, had been much more friendly than Alexei back then, and he’d seemed genuinely happy for her and Alexei when they became a couple.
But eight years later, he had greeted her in the lobby with a cold, “I’ll take you to Mr. Rustanov now.” And that had been it.