Broken Wings (The Broken Series Book 3) (31 page)

Shae
joined me as she finished shaking everyone’s hand. She was wearing a pretty
white dress with a red and black floral print. Sammi was wearing a black sheath
dress with patent leather heels. Cory had chosen a dark gray suit with a crisp white
shirt and a black and gray paisley tie. Nonna rounded out our group with a
bright green fitted dress, which was cinched at the waist with a thin black
belt. Like Oni, she wore five inch heels.

The
room fell quiet as we entered the main dining area. The center of the restaurant
had been cleared of tables. A round table sat near the center of the far wall
with two rectangular tables flanking either side. The two long tables were
filled with men in a variety of gray and black dress suits. Every one of them
sat facing the center of the room. They rose from their seats as we approached.

Nonna
and Dean Bykov introduced each person by name and title before leading us to
the center table. Every person in attendance appeared to be tied to the
government or the university in some way. Aside from the waitresses, Nonna,
Oni, Shae, Sammi, and I were the only women in the room.

Oni
showed me to my seat. She encouraged Shae to sit next to me as she claimed the
seat to my left. Igor sat next to Oni at the adjoining table. Nonna sat between
Shae and Cory. Sammi sat next to Cory, and Dean Bykov took the chair next to
her. I couldn’t help but notice that the seating arrangement ensured that each
one of us was seated next to someone from Ukraine.

Two
waitresses approached our table and immediately began pouring bottled water,
wine, and champagne. I was a bit surprised by our place settings. We each had a
drinking glass, a wine glass, a champagne flute, and a shot glass sitting at
the top of our plates.

The
dean stood once the drinks were poured. He reached for his champagne glass, and
a number of chairs scraped against the floor as everyone around us stood. Nonna
had already instructed us to remain seated and not to drink to the initial
toasts, which would be honoring us specifically.

The
dean turned to face us. “To our esteemed guests from the United States. We are
honored to have you in our country and hope your stay here will prove so
enjoyable that you will never want to leave.” There was a smattering of
laughter from the far side of the room which drew my attention to a round table
tucked just to the side of the door we had entered through. The dean continued.
“We are pleased to have you working at our universities. We share your
commitment for world peace and look forward to working with you toward this
goal in the coming years.
Za vas
!”

“
Za
vas
” sounded around the room. Everyone raised his glass in our direction
and took a drink before returning to his seat.

Shae
and I fidgeted nervously. Neither of us was comfortable with the attention. I
was thankful we didn’t have to reciprocate with our own toast. Cory was not so
lucky. Nonna had instructed him to offer a toast of thanks, directly following
the dean’s toast.

Cory
rose from his seat. This time, everyone else in the room remained seated. He
reached for his wine glass. “My colleagues and I would like to thank Dean Bykov
and Dr. Nonna Tselikova for inviting us to Ukraine. We are honored to be here,
and we are humbled by your hospitality. Thank you for making us feel so
welcome.
Za vas
.”

Oni
placed her hand on mine as I reached for my water glass. “It is considered
impolite to toast with water. You must toast with wine or champagne.”

Heat
flooded my cheeks as I reached for the champagne glass. I had hoped to avoid
drinking alcohol. I pasted a smile on my face and tapped my champagne flute
against Oni and Igor’s glasses before lightly tapping Shae’s glass. Nonna and
Dean Bykov nodded politely. They weren’t drinking since Cory’s toast had
mentioned them by name. “
Za vas
,” I repeated before taking a small sip
of champagne.

The
waitresses began pouring vodka all along our table. A man dressed entirely in
black stood from the table near the door. I shuddered when his eyes met mine. It
was eerie how much the guy looked like Michael with his dark wavy hair, hooded brown
eyes, and five o’clock shadow.

I
inventoried the differences as I continued studying him. This guy was a lot
bigger than Michael, his entire body appeared harder, and there was a dangerous
edge to his gaze that made me feel like a lamb being taken to slaughter. I turned
my attention to the men seated around him. All six men seated at that table
were dressed in black suits with black shirts and ties.

The
gentleman who was standing reached for his shot glass. Once again, everyone
stood. Oni rested her hand on my shoulder when I attempted to stand, so I
dropped back into my seat. Shae, Cory, and Sammi also remained seated.

The
man glanced at Shae and Sammi before shifting his attention to Cory. “I too
would like to welcome our guests from America. Despite what the media might
portray, we really are quite fond of your country and your people. We hope this
event marks the beginning of a lifelong friendship.
Za vas
!”

“
Za
vas!
” sounded around the room again. The four of us nodded politely while
everyone drank their shots. The waitresses poured another round of shots while
everyone settled back into his seat.

Once
the drinks were poured, the gentleman who looked like Michael stood again. “I
would like to propose another toast to honor my friend and our most gracious host
Aleksandr Bykov, without whom we would not have had this opportunity to meet.”

I
had no interest in doing vodka shots my first night in Ukraine, especially when
Rafael had warned me not to drink, but Oni shook her head when I attempted to
set my vodka back on the table. She whispered in my ear. “You don’t decline a
drink from the Russian mafia. Ever. You need to drink it now. He’s watching
you.”

I
glanced worriedly at the man who had given the toast. He was watching me with a
mildly amused look on his face. My hand shook as I lifted the shot glass and
raised it in his direction. I vowed it would be my first and last shot in
Ukraine. The vodka slid smoothly down my throat. Warmth flooded every inch of
my body as the liquid hit my empty stomach.

Shae
reached for my hand. “You okay?”

I
giggled nervously, then whispered in her ear. “You do realize we’re doing shots
with the Russian mafia?”

Sammi
scooted to the front of the table with a camera. “I want to get a picture of the
three of you,” she announced a little too loudly.

I
thought it was an odd time for a picture, but I understood the point when Cory
wrapped his arms around Shae and me and pulled our heads close to his. “Drink
your water halfway down, conceal your shot glass with your hand, then pour it
in the water glass before you bring the shot glass to your lips,” he instructed
as we posed for the picture.

Six
more toasts ensued once Sammi and Cory returned to their seats. I couldn’t
drink my water fast enough to avoid the next three shots, but I was able to dump
the vodka into the water glass by the fifth shot. I soon realized the effort was
futile. I was already feeling tipsy from the first four shots.

Oni
gave me a disapproving look when she caught me dumping the sixth shot into my
water glass. “You are going to insult someone.”

I
sighed irritably. “I can’t drink any more alcohol. It will make me sick.”

The
waitress delivered our food while three women dressed as belly dancers walked
to the center of the room. They began dancing with their scarves when the music
began to play. The music sounded Moroccan. I glanced at Oni. “What kind of
restaurant is this?”

She
smiled. “This is a traditional Tatar restaurant. Do you like the dancers?”

I
studied the women who were dancing rather provocatively. “The women are quite beautiful.
Is this costume traditional for Tatar women?”

Oni
shook her head. “No, but this is how men prefer to see them dress.”

My
eyes narrowed as I continued studying the women. “Is this a traditional dance?”

 Oni
shook her head again. “No. This dance is strictly for entertainment purposes.”

An
ominous chill ran down my spine. I smiled politely at the dancers as I picked
at my food. I was purposely avoiding the salad.

One
of the waitresses knelt next to me. “You do not like your wine, Ms. Stone?”

I
stared at her, shocked that a waitress who had never met me would address me by
name. “The wine is lovely,” I replied cautiously.

She
looked confused. “But you are not drinking it. Perhaps I can find another wine that
is more suitable for you.”

Shae
and I exchanged glances. “No, thank you. I’m happy with this wine.”

She
nodded politely before leaving the table. I watched as she crossed the room to
speak to the gentleman who had given the toast with the vodka I had attempted
to decline.

His
eyes locked on mine as she whispered in his ear.

My
heart stalled.

“Don’t
drink the wine. They refill it when you’re not looking. You’ll have no way to
gauge how much you drink,” Shae warned in a hushed tone.

I
broke the man’s gaze as I pressed my lips to Shae’s ear. “Someone has taken
notice of the fact that we’re not drinking. Oni said it’s insulting not to
drink.”

Shae
shook her head. “Just pretend or take the smallest of sips.”

I
sighed as I lifted the wine glass to my lips. I took a small sip. The red
liquid that slid through my lips tasted of honey. My stomach turned at the
sickeningly sweet taste.

Oni
stood and reached for my arm. “Would you come with me, please?”

I
glanced up at her in surprise. “Where are we going?”

She
smiled tightly as she nodded toward Shae. “Mr. Markov has requested the two of
you join him at his table.”

I
stood and all four vodka shots rocketed to my head. I steadied myself against
the table as the room tilted. “Who’s Mr. Markov?”

She
nodded toward the table where the Russian mafia was seated. “He’s the gentleman
whose drink you tried to refuse.”

I
tried not to panic, although I was quite certain that an invitation to join the
Russian mafia warranted a full scale panic attack. The vodka helped.

Oni
linked her arm in mine. Igor reached for Shae’s elbow as they escorted us across
the room.

Mr.
Markov stood as we approached his table. He immediately reached for my hand.
“Ms. Stone, we were hoping you would join us.” He kissed the top of my hand
rather gallantly before turning to greet Shae. “Ms. Garlington, it is a
pleasure to meet you.” His English was every bit as good as the dean’s, but his
accent was more pronounced.

A
waitress brought two additional chairs to the table and placed them next to Mr.
Markov’s seat. He motioned toward the chair he had previously been sitting in.
“Ms. Garlington, please sit.”

Igor
nudged Shae forward as discreetly as he could. The gentleman sitting next to
the empty seat rose as she approached. He reached for her hand. “Ms.
Garlington, I am Konstantin Noskov. Thank you for joining us.” He kissed Shae’s
hand before introducing her to the other men at the table.

Mr.
Markov still hadn’t released my hand. He sat in the chair next to Shae. Then he
gently pulled me into the seat next to him, effectively ensuring that Shae and
I were separated. He waved at Oni and Igor dismissively.

I
turned to address him. “Mr. Markov…”

He
practically purred. “Maxim, please.”

I
stilled as my body responded to the seductive tone. I fought for my composure while
motioning toward the table where Nonna and Dean Bykov were still seated. “Won’t
we offend our sponsors if we sit here instead of our designated seats?”

He
draped his arm over my shoulders. He wound one of the curls in my hair around
his finger before gently releasing it. “You are precisely where you need to be,
kotyonok
.”

I
glanced at him, confused. “
Kotyonok
?”

He
inhaled deeply as he pressed his lips to my ear. His warm breath caressed my
neck as he spoke. “
Da, kotyonok… kitten.
”

My
breath caught. I scrambled for some sort of retort but found I was completely
incapable of thought.

A
waitress approached the table with a dark brown bottle. She handed the bottle
to Maxim while another waitress lined up nine shot glasses.

A
creamy liquid splashed into the shot glasses as Maxim poured the drinks.

Konstantin
handed a shot glass to Shae before distributing drinks to the other men.

Maxim
reached for two shot glasses. He handed one to me before he rose to his feet. He
nodded and smiled at the men who were sitting at the other end of the table
before turning to face me. “To beautiful women, besotted men, and the passions
that bind them.” Boisterous cheers sounded all around the table as the men
clinked their shot glasses together.

My
heart pounded as his eyes captured and held mine. I couldn’t shake the feeling
that I was being seduced by a darker, more dangerous version of Michael. I
raised the shot glass to my lips. I knew there was no way I was getting out of
this one. “
Budmo
,” I responded softly.