The Brother (Whip 5) ✔️

Chapter 4

STEFAN

As soon as the door shuts behind Mr. Vasiliev, I drop back into the chair, my hands shaking as I pull out an old pack of cigarettes, quickly lighting one up.

I can't remember when was the last time I smoked, though it must have been more than a year ago, and I want to feel bad about it, but I can't. I feel so out of sorts, and unless I find someone in the middle of the afternoon to play with, this is the only way I can calm down.

I thank my lucky stars for my immense self-control which helped me keep my horses during the interview, though I'm sure that I've come across a bit weird, especially at the beginning of the meeting, staring like an idiot at the poor man as I had.

But I couldn't help it. As soon as Sasha had walked in, I froze, my control flying out the window as my eyes fell on the pretty redhead.

He reminded me so much of Misha that for a moment, I thought that I had finally done it; I lost my fucking mind.

The two of them had the same shade of red hair, the same dusting of freckles over their noses, similar bone structure, and weirdly enough, they were both Russian.

For just a moment, I felt as if I had accidentally walked into a funhouse, standing in front of the mirrors, but instead of myself, I saw Misha/Sasha, their reflection the same, yet slightly different.

Thankfully, as the meeting continued, I managed to get a grip, and as the time went on and my initial shock ebbed, I started to notice the differences, finally managing to see Sasha as his own person.

Yes, there are similarities between the two young men, but Sasha is slightly shorter, heavily tattooed, and stronger looking than Misha, which isn't so strange seeing as Misha has gone through a very hard period in his life when food was scarce.

Sasha is also more confident, more self-assured. He's aware of his place in the world and of what he wants, while Misha still struggles with his own, despite his false bravado and the tough act he puts on for everyone to see.

One example of that is Sasha's reaction to my question about Hanks. Where Misha would have shut down, refusing to talk about what happened, Sasha pushed through. Yes, he was obviously uncomfortable, which is understandable since just the thought of that creep Hanks trying to come onto him makes me ill, I can only imagine how Sasha must have felt.

And, yet, he had answered, short and without much detail, but I didn't need those, the years of knowing the disgusting man making me able to paint a picture of the situation inside my mind more than perfectly.

I sigh, one of my hands running over my face before I stand up and walk toward the little bar area in the corner of my office to pour myself a cup of coffee.

Out of all of the applicants I met with today, Sasha is the obvious choice for hiring. He's smart and experienced, well-read which is always a plus in the publishing business, and he doesn't mind working long hours since he doesn't have a family and those types of obligations. He's eager to learn and ambitious. Quite honestly, he's perfect.

And yet, as I sit back into my chair, looking through the big window behind my desk without really seeing anything, I can't force myself to make the decision to hire him.

Because where Sasha is perfect for the job, he's also perfect for me, exactly the type of man I go for, and that scares the shit out of me.

∞

SASHA

Big, calloused hands run down my naked chest, the fingernail catching on the pebbled nipples and scratching them for just a second, the short burst of pain mixing with pleasure as the hands go on, lower and lower, the fingers curling inside the edge of my underwear before pulling it down, leaving me completely naked.