Dual Eclipse
4th installment in the Mikhailov Bratva series.
Start Date: February 18th 2024.
End Date: October 28th 2024.
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Victoria
I had nothing to do with these people-those with lifeless eyes, those that held their...
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I glared across the table at the man in a sunrise orange shirt, unbuttoned at the neck, revealing the octopus tattoo on his chest. I’ve never asked what it represents and didn’t want to know him in that sense. I needed to know how to get him away from me. “You could have bought a different shirt and covered your tattoos.” I glared at the girls, giggling and sharing secrets. Something other than anger, red, hot and ugly, settled deep in my chest, and I swallowed, focusing on my irritation.
“You’re still mad at me, Love?” He placed the menu down and lowered his orange-tinted shades. Sasha peers at me over the rims and takes his cigar out of his mouth. He blows the smoke and slides a little off his seat. That bastard! The move was seductive, although it shouldn’t be. He smirked. I glared at the table salt and desperately wanted to put it in his eyes.
“You almost burned my kitchen down!”
“I was baking you cookies for breakfast.”
“No one asked you to.” He continues to smoke that damn cigar that gets a reaction out of me. Every time he pulls, my core clenches. He made smoking and sin look sexy. Those were not! “Get rid of that damn thing. People are trying to have their lunch.” Even the orange glow of his cigarette in the dark in Russia had me hypnotised. He has been doing this long, and I’m foolish for thinking he was going anywhere. That fuelled my anger.
“People are enjoying their lunch just fine. You should pick up your menu, Moya Luna. People are staring.” He licked his lips and rubbed his jaw.
“They’re staring at you! You should have covered up.”
“Are you jealous?” He chuckled. “I’m always yours, Darling.” The endearments and the man didn’t go together. Sweet and Sasha shouldn’t go together.
“Oh, get over yourself.” I picked the damn menu up and called the waiter over. “And after lunch, you go. I have somewhere to be this evening.”
“Hm, do tell.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“You’re my business.” I glared, calling the waiter over. He found everything funny!
“¿Están listos para ordenar?” The man smiles, and I swallow my bile before indulging in the friendly talk.
[Are you ready to order?]
“Sí, señor. ¿Cómo ha estado tu día?” I flip my hair and smile. You’re a puta for that! You know Sasha won’t let anything happen to you.
[Yes, sir. How has your day been?]
“Bien, señorita. Gracias. ¿Qué tendrán tú y tu hermano?” I let my hair fall over my face to hide my grin. My brother, huh? I look up at Sasha, and my smile falters. In a flash, I knew I fucked up.
[Good, Miss. Thank you. What do you and your brother have?]
I react fast when the gun cocks beneath the table. Sasha didn’t smile. His eyes were deadly, his jaw tightened, and his temple vein popped. “Bien. Tendremos Ropa Vieja con Congrí. Quiero los tostones y el agua. El hombre tomará un coñac.” My heart lunged into my throat. I begged the innocent man to leave. When he did, it did nothing to soothe my frantic heartbeat.
