His Wicked Heart (EDITING)

Chapter Fourteen

zemlyanika
(n.) wild strawberries

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PRESENT

ALEKSANDR

After dropping Genevieve off at her house, I went to Vittoria's to take care of some business, which included threatening Francesca to never, ever try to hire an employee without my or Emiliano's permission.

The club was recently bought. Instead of keeping it as just a local club, I plan to make it one of the renowned clubs of Moscow. To make my plan effective, I'll have to start by reorganizing its rules and policies, which includes informing the authorities before making any decisions, starting from hiring employees to purchasing goods.

Afterwards, when I returned home, I was already tired enough to encounter with my unpleasant guest.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, frowning, as I made my way around Emi. He sat on a chair near my kitchen counter, his gaze playfully meeting mine as he took small sips from the glass of vodka in his hand.

"Kak nespravedlivo," he dramatically sighed. "Razve paren' ne mozhet posetit' dom svoyego brata?"

"Ne bez prichiny." I took the seat in front of him. Emi and I would give up our lives for each other. We were as close as our blood bond made us. But him coming to my house in the middle of the night for no reason? That had never happened.

Emi smiled. "Are you pissed at me, Sandro?" he asked, and I narrowed my eyes at him. "What do you think?" He laughed this time.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He swirled the glass in his hand before continuing with a wicked grin. "I didn't know you were so worked up about that chick-"

"Call her chick again and you'll find out how worked up I am about her." I forced my fist to stay where it was, not finding it very joyous to beat my brother up over a woman.

Goddamn Genevieve.

"So," Emi thoroughly ignored my threat, probably finding enjoyment in my words. He loved to get on my nerves, after all. "How do you feel now?" When I raised an eyebrow at him in confusion, he continued, "Like do you want to walk her down the aisle or what?"

"Get out," I gritted. I had no desire to talk about Genevieve and what I wanted to do with her to Emi. But being the shameless bastard he was, he gave little care to what I had just demanded.

"But you're too young to fall in love right now!" Oh, for God's sake. Patience is a virtue I don't have, especially not with Emi and his shit-talking. "I distinctly remember that I'm thirty-one years old."

He smirked. "That's young." His words only made me sigh as I rubbed my temple. "Emiliano, klyanus', yesli ty, chert voz'mi, ne pokinesh' moy dom pryamo seychas-"

"Ladno, ladno, uspokoysya. Blin, ty segodnya na vzvode." he held his hands up, looking annoyingly amused as he struggled to hold back his laughter. "I'll leave. But before that-"

"Tell me why you're here." He rolled his eyes when I cut him off mid-sentence. "I was just about to do that."

"Really? All I remember is you messing with me for the last five minutes." I wanted to say, but I held myself back.

"You'll have to go to Kazakhstan today," I glared at him as if he had grown two heads when he confirmed, "I'm not joking."

"No, you are."