Page 33 of Ruins
I expected a wife with no strings—a woman content with luxuries, happy to stay out of my affairs. Not someone Maksim crafted to be a mirror of this life.
Angelo lifts his glass. “Lucky man.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
But I can’t stop watching her.
She’s now dancing with her friend, their bodies swaying in sync with the pulsating beat.
Maksim chuckles at my response. “Don’t be modest Santo,” he retorts.
“My cousin is a good woman. She has a kind temperament and she’s smart, You’ll get along well.”
I scoff at his words, nursing my drink as I watch her. Vasilisa sways, her body moving in perfect sync with the music. There’s nothing rehearsed about the way she carries herself. Confidence. The kind that feels rare. It pulls at me, making it harder to look away.
She stops suddenly, scanning the club. Her gaze locks with mine from across the room.
Everything else fades.
Recognition flickers in her eyes, widening just slightly as realization sets in. Sheknowswho I am. And she doesn’t look away.
Neither do I.
For a fleeting moment, I see something in her expression—curiosity, uncertainty. We hold each other’s gaze for longer than necessary.
Longer than I should allow.
Then she turns, the spell breaking as if it never happened.
I swivel my attention back to Maksim and Angelo and lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “Pietro Ivanov,” I say, not bothering to mask the edge in my voice.
Maksim’s brow lifts. “What about him?”
“Will he be an issue when it comes to Vasilisa?”
Maksim chuckles, “No need to be jealous Santo, he’s a family friend and uninterested in Vasilisa.”
“As far asyouknow.”
The amusement flickers in Maksim’s eyes before fading. His expression hardens slightly. “He knows better. He owes me, and he’s more useful alive than dead. There’s no need to concern yourself.”
I nod, setting the thought aside.
For now.
“Fine, let’s get back to business.”
As the night wears on, we delve into deep discussions about our next strategic moves in acquiring valuable territory. I’m tasked with spearheading the campaign to acquire buildings owned by the wealthy Beaumont brothers. One of them happens to be my biggest competition, but I agree to set up a meeting at their enterprise. Maksim shares his struggles with dealing with the Turkish mob, who have been encroaching on his territory and selling knock-off versions of his highly coveted drugs. Angelo offers his men to aid Maksim’s in locating, capturing, and interrogating one of the interlopers in hopes of obtaining information on their source. But even as the conversation shifts, I feel her presence.
When I rise to leave, Vasilisa’s gaze finds me again. This time, she smiles.
It’s subtle—small and soft—but it unsettles me more than I expect.
I walk out into the night, the image of her lingering longer than I’d like.
Chapter 7
Vasilisa
