Page 9 of Cruel Russian King
I smiled. “You trust me that much?”
“I love trying new things,” she said with a playful shrug. “And if I don’t like what’s on my plate, I’ll just eat yours.”
I chuckled. “What if I order us the same thing?”
She placed a hand over her chest, dramatically. “Blasphemy! Everyone knows you’re supposed to order different dishes. Variety is the spice of life.”
I laughed. “Alright, alright. Any allergies I should know about?” I asked, pretending not to already know.
“Seafood. I carry an EpiPen just in case.”
Just then, the waitress arrived with a bright smile. “Good afternoon. I’m Candice, and I’ll be your waitress today. Are you ready to order?”
Without glancing at the menu, I ordered their finest sweet red wine and their top dishes. Once she walked away, I turned back to Ninel.
“So, now that you’ve graduated, do you have any plans?”
“I’m not sure yet. I’ve got a degree in Fine Arts and a minor in Arts Administration,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I decided to take a year off to figure things out. I love painting, but I also want to open an art gallery. Something to honor my mother.” She paused and bit her lower lip.
“What’s holding you back?” I lifted a brow. “I know it’s not the money.”
She shook her head. “I’ve never run a business before. Lev’s busy running the faction with Jaroslav. Avit and Pyotr have the club. Marten just turned the building next door into a casino. And while Mariya and I run the foundation together…that’s really her thing, you know?”
“So you feel like they’re too busy to help?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Or are you afraid of stepping into something unknown?”
She tilted her head, considering what I had just said
“You’re the baby of the family,” I went on. “If you ask, they’ll help. But there’s a chance they’ll take over, maybe not on purpose, but in trying to protect you from it failing, they might end up drowning out your ideas.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that...but you’re right.” She grinned, a spark lighting in her eyes. “I wanted to repaint my room at the mansion once, and it took two months because everyone kept trying to tell me what colors would look best.”
I smirked. “But something tells me you got the color you wanted in the end.”
Her smile widened. “You bet I did.”
Ninel’s room was painted a soft pink with a bold fuchsia accent wall. I already knew some of the artwork scattered around the Safin mansion was hers, and that she’d started scouting properties for a gallery about three months ago. But listening to her now, hearing her perspective on her life, made me see her in a different light. Her voice had a calming quality, soft and serene, like something in it reached inside me and smoothed the jagged edges I had formed over the years.
“What was life like in the Safin mansion, being the youngest sibling?”
Just then, Candice entered with a bottle of wine. I thanked her, uncorked it, and poured us each a glass.
Ninel swirled hers delicately, then took a sip.
“You mean what was it like being spoiled rotten?” she teased, winking. “Life as the youngest has been good.”
I took a sip of my own.
“And your most memorable moment as a child?”
She tilted her head thoughtfully. “I can’t pick just one. There’ve been a lot of good memories.”
I asked a few more personal questions but Ninel didn't answer any outright.
Ninel was being evasive and I didn't blame her. She knew how quickly a friend could become an enemy in our world and sharing too much information about your family could lead to your downfall if you let the wrong thing slip.
