Kaian
Mireya was ten minutes late to the breakfast we were meant to have and as I waited in the office building's cafe, I looked over the menu.
When she arrived, still in workout clothes; lilac leggings and a loose sweater.
With her hair braided tightly to her head and her duffel bag slung on one shoulder, she turned heads because she was the clumsiest woman there was.
What was it with her and tripping over carpets? And why was there even a fucking carpet in the cafe?
"Sorry I'm late," she said, flopping down on the seat in front of me. "I tripped on the way here and I scraped my hand." She said, and I wasn't anywhere near surprised. She held up her hand as proof of the incident and I frowned at her.
"I was gonna go home but then there was a pharmacy on the way here so I just got some stuff from there and bandaged my hand," she explained. "And then, I saw that I was already late so I started running and then I bumped into this little girl and her papers went everywhere, so I helped her out because she looked like she was gonna cry-"
"Mireya, enough," I said, interrupting her.
"Ok, sorry," she replied, pressing her lips together.
"Have you eaten?"
"Nope, not a bit," she answered, picking up her menu and opening it. I watched her scan the pages, her eyes roaming over the words way too quickly, then she lifted the menu up, covering her face. "I don't like it when you watch me, it's weird," she said.
I rolled my eyes. "Pick quickly, there's something I need to tell you,"
She peeked over the menu, only her eyes showing. "Is it super important?"
"If it wasn't, I wouldn't be here,"
She set the menu down, intertwined her hands together, and laid it on top. "Tell me,"
"Your first test is in three days," I began.
"You did all of this to tell me that?" She asked.
"I'm not finished,"
"Oh okay, go on," she said, resting her arm on the table and her head in her hand.
"There's a gala on that day, a birthday party, and everyone on that binder that I gave you might be in attendance,"
That caught her attention, and she sat straight, her eyes widening a little. "Everyone?"
"Yes,"
"And it's a gala? Like ballgowns and stuff?"
"No, there won't be ballgowns. A simple evening gown would suffice,"
"I don't have an evening gown,"
I frowned. "What do you mean you do not have an evening gown? I gave you a list of clothing items you needed to purchase,"
"When did you give me the list?"
"In the email with the digital copy of your contract," I answered.
"Oh, I didn't read that,"
I stared at her in utter shock. This woman was an irresponsible nuisance. Why the fuck did I hire her?
"Hello, may I take your order please?"
"Yes!" She said, excitedly. "I will have the grilled cheese with fruit on the side and the mango tango milkshake," she recited.
"Alright, and will it be the usual for you, Mr. Volkov?"
"Just the coffee, I've lost my appetite,"
Mireya looked at me with a tilt to her head, in silent question.
"How can you lose your appetite? It smells so freaking good in here, even if I was full to the point of throwing up, I'd still want to eat,"
"How much money do you have left in your account,"
"Not a dime," she answered. "I paid for my mom's medical bills, so it cleared my balance,"
I sighed, took my wallet out, and handed her one of my cards. "Read the fucking email. And buy everything on the list," I said, sliding the card toward her. "And from now on, everything that you receive from me must be read. And every order I give, followed,"
"Um, before I accept this," she said, tapping the card. "Will it be deducted from my salary?"
"No,"
"Ok, thanks," she said, took the card, and slipped it into the duffel bag.
The food arrived right away and she grinned so widely at the food, I was sure her cheeks hurt. Then, she took out her phone and took pictures of her food, rearranging the way it was set up on the table.
After about ten minutes of her little pictorial session, she put her phone away and took one triangle-cut sandwich, and took off the crust.
"So the gala," she said, taking a bite.
I sipped my coffee and waited to hear what she had to say.
"Where is it gonna be at?"
"The celebrant's house,"
"And that house is supposed to fit every single person in that binder?"
"More than the people listed in that binder,"
"Wow," she sighed. "I don't think I've ever been anywhere that huge before,"
"I will have my assistant send you an email regarding all the details of the event. Comply with every single one of them,"
"Is that all?" She asked.
"Yes, unless you have any questions,"
"I don't," she said, poking a pineapple with the little toothpick umbrella that was on her drink. "So are you leaving now?"
"No," I answered. "I have another meeting," I lied. For some reason, I had this unsettling, yet tempting feeling to be around her.
"Here?"
"Yes, here. So hurry up and finish your food,"
"I just got it!"
I ignored her and continued to drink my coffee.
"Grump," she muttered. "Your heart is probably as dark as the coffee you drink,"
"Perhaps," I said. "That's why I like it,"
༻✦༺
"Malachi sit down," Ivan ordered. We were at the main office, having a meeting Ivan called for. So far, the only ones present were Ivan, Malachi, Amir, and me.
"Relax, I just fucking got here," Malachi muttered, loosening his tie and sitting down on his designated seat at our office.
"Where's Lia?" I asked.
"Late as usual," Ivan sighed, looking at his watch.
"Watch your tone, Ivan, you made me cancel a hair appointment," Eliana said as a way of greeting. She walked in, poured herself champagne, and drank the whole thing in one go.
"Your hair looks as plastic as it always does, nothing needs changing," Amir said.
"Who even asked you, Amir? And why are you here? You still have a cast on your leg,"
"Apparently, I was needed,"
"Where's your new recruit?" Ivan asked me.
"I asked her to take care of something," I answered, not sure why I was covering for her. Mireya was fucking late, again.
"Well tell her to hurry up, my wife is waiting for me,"
The door creaked open and Mireya walked in, holding files on top of files. "So, I got a text from your assistant to bring this here? And sorry it took a while, I got lost,"
She put all of the files on the table and looked around with a big smile on her face. Was that smile ever not on her face?
"Hello, everyone, I'm Mireya," she greeted. "I've met them," she said, gesturing to Eliana, Amir, and me. "But you two are new faces,"
"Sit down," Ivan ordered.
Mireya's smile was replaced with a frown and she sat down beside me, looking at Ivan with something I couldn't place. Maybe it was hatred, and for some reason, I was pleased with that.
Coincidentally enough, she was sitting beside Malachi and he leaned in to whisper something to her which made her smile. That bothered me like an itch and I didn't understand why.
"Malachi shut your mouth," I glowered and he scowled at me, leaning back in his seat. Mireya looked at me with a questioning gaze. Both reactions I ignored.
"The reason why I called for this meeting is that the cousins are going to be there,"
"Ugh," Eliana rolled her eyes. "Why are they following us?"
"Something's up," Malachi said. "You know who the cousins are, right?" He asked Mireya.
"No, she doesn't-"
"I do, actually." She corrected, interrupting me. "Nora, Beau, and Matteo Volkov. You've had a lifelong feud with them, and you've been trying to kill their father for the last ten years but you haven't been able to do it because it could cause a potential underground war," she explained, surprising everyone in the room.
"Damn, how did you know all that?" Malachi asked.
"It was in the study binder he gave me," she answered, pointing at me.
"That's really impressive," Eliana grinned. I looked at Amir and he was already smirking at my reaction.
Damn the bastard.
"Do you have any plans after the party, Mireya?" He asked and I knew from the look on his stupid face that he was doing it to piss me off.
"Oh, I don't think so," she answered, oblivious.
"Good, because I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner with me,"
I clenched my fists on my lap, in an attempt to control my sudden frustration. Mireya was at a loss for words.
"Now is not the time or place for that," Ivan said, frowning. "There needs to be a plan for their presence,"
"What plan do you want? They'll just pester us and annoy us, they're not actually gonna do anything," Eliana argued. "They're too chicken to start shit,"
"They could do something, they still belittle us to this day," I said.
"I agree with Kaian," Ivan said.
"When do you not agree with Kaian?" Eliana asked, rhetorically.
"You know something they could do?" Mal asked, standing up to get a drink from the cart next to the door.
We waited for him to say what he needed to, and when he poured himself his drink, he said, "they can kiss my ass,"
Eliana rolled her eyes, Ivan sighed and Amir just shook his head. Mireya snorted and I couldn't help but scowl at her.
"What?" She asked. "All of you were waiting for him to speak as if he was gonna spill some unshared wisdom and then he drops that bomb, it was funny," she explained.
"Mireya, was it?" Ivan asked, seriously acknowledging her for the first time this entire meeting.
"Yup, that's my name," she answered.
"What experience do you have in the mafia?" he asked.
"To be honest? I have none," she told him, confidently. "Except when I stole your brother's car,"
Ivan's jaw clenched and his gaze turned to me. "That's why you hired her?" He asked me and I nodded. He turned his attention back to Mireya and everyone watched this interaction silently. "Do you know how to use a firearm?" he asked.
"Nope,"
"Knives?"
She shook her head.
"Then what do you know?" I could tell Ivan was losing his patience.
"I know how to steal, I know how to act as though I know how to use the stuff you just mentioned. I know that your greatest weakness in this entire world is your wife, Nyah Frey Volkov, and your daughter Avani Volkov. I also know that in your father's game of poker, you are his ace of spades, Kaian is the ace of diamonds, Malachi is the ace of clubs and Eliana is his ace of hearts." She said, not breaking eye contact with my older brother. "Bricrui Volkov's favorite way of winning poker is the four of a kind. Each ace represents his four kids,"
Ivan blinked, sat back in his chair, and looked at her. "Let me ask you this, then, Mireya," he said. "How far are you willing to go to keep your position?"
"How far?" she repeated, considering the question. "If you're asking me this because you're afraid I won't have the guts to kill somebody, you're very wrong about me. I've never killed anyone before, it's true, but I can go very far and I'm willing to go very far."
"Prove it," he said.
"Ivan," I warned.
But he ignored me. "When we get to the party, you are to pick a target," he said. "And within this month, I want you to kill that person,"