I left his arms. “Nuclear weapons?”
“Yes.”
I held my hands out at my sides. “Okay. You’re right. That’s beyond ballet. Fuck.”
“I have to deal with that.”
“Uh, yes, Misha. You must deal with nuclear weapons. That’s more important than me.”
“But now we have assassins in St Petersburg. Apparently, they’re dressed nicely, so that’s an upside. I might get some fashion tips.”
“This is not a time to joke. You have to go to Paris and deal with the codes and Kazimir, but only if you would be safe.”
“I would go, but I’m not leaving you here with assassins in the city.”
“Then, I’ll go with you. I can stay out of the way or—”
“You’re not going to Paris.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want you involved or close to Kazimir and his crap.”
“Misha, I’m sleeping with you. You’re shooting people because you want to watch me dance. You’re avoiding your cousin because you want to hang out with me. I’m completely involved.”
The smile left his face. “You’re not going.”
“You can’t tell me where I’m going.” I walked around him and went to my dresser. “We can leave in an hour, if necessary. You will not get in any more trouble—”
“You’re not going, Ava.”
“I’m going.” I yanked open the drawer.
He got in front and shut it. “I won’t let you. Don’t push me on this.”
I gave up. “Misha.”
His fun tone left. “I want you out of this.”
“I already told you I was involved—”
“There are too many dangerous people in Paris.”
“And there are dangerous people here.”
“I have this under control—”
“Bullshit, Misha. Let’s just go to Paris—”
“No.”
Someone knocked at the door.
I yelled, “I’m fine, Grandma.”
A dark voice sounded. “It’s not Grandma, but I’m glad you’re fine. Is Misha in there?”
I looked at Misha. “Who is that?”
“My friend.” Misha walked over, grabbed his pants, put them on, and yelled at the door, “Give me a minute, Naveen.”
I hurried his way. “I should just go with you to Paris. I can take my grandmother. I have cousins in the city anyway.”
“No. And that’s final.”
“It’s not final. You can’t tell me where I can go.”
“We’re done talking about this.” He zipped up his pants, left, and shut the door.
I thought he was being stupid, but I didn’t know much about his world. Was he right to think that I would be in more danger in Paris? I would do my best to stay out of the way. I just wanted him safe and out of all this craziness. So far, he was in danger in St Petersburg because of me. And now he was avoiding his cousin due to me too. This had to stop.
As my grandmother always says, it is time to put out all the fires.
I opened the door to follow him.
Yefim stood on the outside, blocking my way. “Sorry. He asked me to make sure you stay here until he leaves.”
“But you’re my guard.”
“He overrides any of your commands.”
“Got it.” Seething, I backed up and shut the door.Chapter 10
Misha
Naveen, Maxwell, and I stood on the balcony. While Maxwell and Naveen curiously eyed each other, I put on a jacket. I’d forgot to grab my shirt.
I wondered what Maxwell thought of my childhood friend. Although from different ethnicities, they shared the same complexion.
Very handsome, Naveen always had his way with women. No one feature made him good-looking. It was the whole package. Six feet. Slim, yet lean muscle. Super stylish. Flamboyant with a gentlemanly flair. Tonight he wore a violet designer suit—black shirt and polka dot tie. Somehow it all worked out.
I often overheard women talking about his eyes. I understood the fascination. When Naveen looked at you, it felt like you were the only person on Earth. There was a sense of honor that came. A feeling of being more special than any other. His gaze radiated an intense gentleness.
Naveen turned to me. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
“I’m thinking about how dreamy your eyes are.”
Naveen snorted and returned to perusing Maxwell.
Walking over to the balcony ledge, Maxwell pulled out a joint and lit it.
Naveen reached his hand into his jacket, took out one of his designer cigarettes, placed the black stick between his lips, and lit. When he blew out a dark cloud of smoke, he gestured to Maxwell. “What are you smoking?”
“A White Russian.” Maxwell looked up. “Apparently, it’s a cross of two legendary strains—”
“White Widow and AK-47.” Naveen bobbed his head. “You’re a Cannabisseur. Like a connoisseur, but only better.”
“I know my strains.”
“Hmmm.” Naveen returned his attention to me and kept his lit cigarette between his two fingers. “I heard your ballerina and you arguing. Is there trouble in paradise?”
“No.”
“Too bad.”
I sneered. “What do you mean too bad?”
“If Ava broke up with you, then everything would get fixed.”
I stalked his way and stopped a foot in front of him. “Mind your business.”
Naveen blew out smoke but made sure to not do it in my direction. “I’ve never seen you so obsessed before. I thought when you slept with her the obsession would go away, but here you are.”