Blood Bonds - Book 1

Chapter 1 - Aleksandra

I stared at the barman as he prepared me a Manhattan, bewitched by his strong forearms, his hands, and the reddish liquid pouring into the glass cup. He slid it toward me with a sinful smile. I wrapped my fingers around the stem, slowly, sensually. I took a sip, my eyes on him. He looked at my damp lips when I moved them from the glass. Reflexively, I stretched my mouth a little more and finished my cocktail all in one breath, leaving him speechless.

"Make me another one for later," I ordered, getting off the barstool and turning my back on him.

I embraced with my gaze the sea of guests occupying the hall, studying them one by one to make sure the most relevant had arrived. It took me weeks to organize this event — and admiring the result of my efforts filled me with satisfaction.

My father should have been proud of me.

When I turned twenty, I had officially become part of the family-run business. I worked with my father on the athletic training of the competition horses and the education of the foals. With my mother, I also dealt with the administration, such as sales, purchases, research of professional riders for international competitions, and so on.

All the major representatives of the equestrian world were gathered here to celebrate the successes the Nikolayev Stables had achieved in the last years. This evening would have made us earn new sponsors and buyers for the new competition foals. Our hard work was about to be rewarded.

Getting closer to the orchestra on the stage, I took out the microphone from the stand and started my speech.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you so much for coming." I waited for all the attention to be focused on me, then I swallowed and smiled at my parents. "Ever since I was little, my father always encouraged me to follow my dreams. It doesn't matter if they will bring you far away from us, he said, just be happy and love with your whole being. And I did. You should have figured it out by the way I constantly followed you around the stable," I went on, talking directly with him — who was getting a little weepy — and fighting back my own tears. "Or by the way I always asked you to explain everything to me and I insisted to help you to clean the horses. You should have figured it out when I nagged you to take riding lessons, or when I won my first dressage competition. This is my life; this is my dream. It's an honor to work with you and I'm looking forward to leading our business on top of the world."

"You already have, sweetheart!" a man shouted from the crowd, creating a general hilarity among the guests.

I smiled, too, biting my lip and pretending to be embarrassed. I was so proud that the audience considered us the most prestigious stable — we had worked so much to be on that level, and we deserved the best instruments to excel.

And I was determined to gain them.

"What I'm trying to say," I carried on, coming across my father's pleased look, "is that I love what I do. What we do together. I love all this," I opened my arms, "and I'm happy. I'm still here, and I thank you from the bottom of my heart because you help me make my dreams come true day by day. This event is for you. I love you, dad." A burst of applause echoed in the hall, and I lowered my head with a smile before adding, "Have a great time everybody!"

I put the micro back on the stand and I walked toward my parents.

My mother Sofiya, enchanting Russian beauty with a long black dress that highlighted the diamonds resting on her chest, kissed me on the cheek.

"Great job, darling."

I smiled at her and turned to hug my father, Roman Nikolayev. He was a strong man, a bit overweight, with deep lines on the forehead and the sides of the mouth, and some grey between his dark hair.