Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Nope. I trust you.”
The startled smile that Alexei flashed him was worth any heartache that was waiting for him in the near future. The idea that they could make something work after all this was over was almost laughable. Soren was a reckless old man with no direction, no family, and no future. Alexei was a brilliant shooting star. He was young, intelligent, and had an incredible support system in his uncles. He could do anything.
But right now, at this moment, the money didn’t matter. Keeping Alexei safe so he could sail on to that bright future was the only important thing.
They’d lucked into a gorgeous day. The tourists were out in force, but even the crowds couldn’t dampen their spirits. Rather than bother with any museums—they’d already pressed their luck with the Louvre—they opted for a stroll through the Jordaan district. The narrow streets were a touch claustrophobic, but there was no sign they were being followed as they moved through the crowds who were also popping into the busy cafés, shops, and restaurants. They admired the beautiful homes that lined the famous canals and watched the steady flow of boats down the waterways.
After a few hours, they stopped into a restaurant that had grown quiet following the afternoon rush of tourists. They relaxed at a table hidden in the shadows at the back of the place where they heard only hushed conversation and the light tinkle of cutlery on plates.
“I was wondering something,” Soren started a bit haltingly, anxious about asking because he half expected Alexei to deflect or even outright lie. “Since you know so much about me…”
“Do I?” The young man’s smile was playful and maybe a little devilish. Soren wanted to lean across the table and kiss the look right off his face, but it would only lead to behavior that wasn’t quite appropriate while in public.
“Well, you do about my past.”
“True. But then, you know more about my past than most people.”
Soren nodded, conceding him that point. It was highly unlikely most of the world knew he was related to the Krestyanov family, and Alexei probably wanted to keep it that way. “But there is one thing that I don’t know, and I would very much like to understand it.”
“Okay.”
“Why?”
Alexei stared at him, lines of confusion digging into his brow before his eyes widened suddenly. “Why the career choice,” he murmured, and Soren nodded.
To his shock, Alexei didn’t immediately laugh off the question. Instead, he grabbed his glass of wine and took a small sip, his expression seeming to cloud over as if he were giving the question some serious thought.
“Naturally, you don’t have to answer,” Soren found himself saying when he really wanted to bite his tongue.
“I don’t mind.” He shrugged and returned his glass to the table. “It’s one of those things that should be easy to answer because both my uncles questioned my motivations for such a decision so many times.”
“They didn’t want you to follow in their footsteps?”
A sharp bark of laughter escaped Alexei and he shook his head. “Fuck, no. Would you want that for your kid?”
“Probably not.” Actually, definitely not. He would want his child to be safe, but he understood that chasing after what made a person happy wasn’t always a safe path.
Alexei turned quiet, his eyes on the empty table in front of them. They’d placed their order with the server and had only received their drinks so far. Alexei fiddled a little with his napkin-wrapped utensils. “I don’t know how much you know about my grandfather.”
“No personal details. Just the bare bones of his career in the Russian government and his tight control over the KGB.”
He grunted softly. “It wasn’t only the KGB he had tight control over. There isn’t a lot I remember about him. My mom tried to shield me from him, my uncles, and cousins as much as possible. Some things Gabriel told me about later. He had a lot of pride in the Krestyanov name. We were supposedly this prestigious family in Russia. He thought we were like royalty, but also guardians of the people.”
“Royalty in Communist Russia?”
The smile that flashed across Alexei’s lips was weak. “Yeah, Nicolai wasn’t big on logic. He did believe he was better than everyone else because he was a Krestyanov. That meant his kids had to be better as well. Anyone who bore the Krestyanov name. Uncle Gabriel was trained from an early age to be a killer, a fighter, a defender of the Krestyanov family. Naturally, he couldn’t be gay and do those things.”
“Backward bastard,” Soren muttered. He slouched a bit in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. He had a feeling deep in his gut that he wasn’t going to like this story.
“Among other things. Gabriel hid who he was, but Nicolai eventually found out and hurt my uncle. Gabriel escaped, but killing was all he knew, and he’s so good at it.” A slow, dark smile slid across Alexei’s lips. “I’ve never seen anyone work like him. It’s like watching a ballet. He’s an artist.”