Page 23 of Hate to Love You
“Yeah, well, maybe you should offer better treats,” Pasha chuckles, snapping his gum in his mouth. “Perhaps you’d get a better return on your investment.”
Rolling my eyes, and deliberately ignoring him, I head directly into my office.
The furniture is a black and white mix of contemporary Scandinavian furniture, and the walls are made of solid clear glass. However, in the event that I actually do want privacy, with the flick of a switch I can make them go opaque.
It was something I saw once at a BDSM club in Chicago several years ago and found to be extremely unique.
But given that everyone working on this floor of Nikotech Investments knows exactly what I do when I’m not fronting capital for upcoming projects around the city, I don’t feel the need to use it very often.
Silently I point, and Caesar makes his way to his elevated dog bed in the corner and picks up his bone.
Cal, who has posted up temporarily today at the desk just outside my office, joins Pasha and the two of them follow me inside. He takes a position in the corner, standing respectfully off to the side, while my little brother on the other hand, pulls out his phone and crashes down in one of my chairs, resting his foot on my desk.
Cal clears his throat, and Pasha quickly removes it, but not before rolling his eyes.
I’ve just finished unbuttoning my jacket when there is a gentle knock against the glass door.
“Good morning, Sir,” Kristinah, my decently attractive redheaded assistant, says with a smile. A very loaded smile, reminding me that Kristinah wants to fuck me.
But then again, who doesn’t?
She sets my coffee down at my desk, careful not to spill a drop of the perfectly flayed cappuccino design.
I say nothing, and she wisely doesn’t linger, having been the recipient of my pre-coffee wrath in the past. As I take a sip, I pick up the file on my desk, perusing it slowly. A daily report that’s prepared by Cal, and despite rain, sleet, or shine, is always waiting for me before I arrive, giving me the updates on everything I need to know before the entourage arrives.
As head of this family, it’s my job to always be in the know, even if the people in charge of keeping me in the know don’t always do a good job of that…deliberately or otherwise. And while my dear siblings might think I insist on these early Monday morning meetings just to torture them, it’s just to see who’s going to be honest with me about the status of our various enterprises.
…Or rather, be completely honest with me.
Cal’s reports are the ones I can trust, and how I gauge how much bullshit my family tries to feed me. That’s because he’s the one person I know I can rely on. He’s also the one person that I would consider to be more than just my subordinate, or employee. When we were kids, Cal’s father died in service to our family, and instead of dumping the orphan kid into the cracked foster care system, my father made a uniquely compassionate decision and took Cal in.
Perhaps it was because at that time, my closest siblings in age were Anastasia and Polina, my twin brothers Lev and Nikolai were just babies, and cheery ol’ Pasha here wasn’t even a twinkle in my father’s wrinkly ball sack yet. So, it’s likely it was a decision made less out of compassion, and more so because my father decided I could use a male playmate and friend…as well as a good sparring partner.
However, even if that friendship has always been intentionally one-sided, Cal has always had my back.
He’s fearless, smart, reliable…and punctual.
Also unlike my fucking family.
“Pasha,” I say, looking up at him. “You said they’d be here on time. It’s quarter after. Where the hell are they?”
But just as I say the words out loud, I immediately hear the commotion coming down the hallway.
“Sounds to me they’re right on time,” Pasha says, holding his finger up in the air, but refusing to tear himself away from his scroll of the latest bikini-clad social media influencer he’s trolling. “For them anyway.”
“The entire car smelled of pussy Igor!” Polina snarls at him. “Cheap pussy!”
“What do you care, eh?” Igor snaps. “It was my night to be with Leah!”
“I know for a fact that Leah was at her stupid book club meeting!” Polina screeches. “So, want to try that again? The agreement was you could fuck around but only with the bitches I approve!”
“Christ, Pol,” I hear Lev whine. “Can’t you and your little whoreband here have these disgustingly illuminating marital discussions at home?”
“Shut up!” Polina snaps.
“Pretty sure that’s exactly what Lev is suggesting,” Nikolai chimes in, backing up his identical twin. “We don’t care to know this much about your private life, or lack thereof, and it’s getting a little weird at this point.”
“Not to mention just…gross,” Lev finishes.