DIMA (Filthy Rich Alphas)

When the staff finally brought out the entrées, Mrs. Ivanov raised her gold cup and tapped a fork against it, sending a ringing sound across the table. “To new friends.”

We all lifted our glassed and repeated.

Before sipping her champagne, she winked at me. “And to beautiful, smart grandchildren too.”

I almost choked on my champagne, while the uncles laughed. I checked Dima who scowled at his mom.

The conversation moved on to brighter topics—ones that shocked me to know that they would care about. We discussed the oncoming problems of climate change. We laughed about some of our favorite movies that we all happened to share—high-octane action with spies or assassins.

The discussion turned personal at times. His uncles talked about growing up on the rough streets of Moscow. His mother spoke on the difficulties of raising an American child while barely knowing English.

And the whole time I realized that what I thought about the Diamond Syndicate was far from true. In fact, I’d slowly been learning a lot.

They were more than criminals. They were human beings with needs and wants. Real human emotions. They loved and cried. They struggled and built. They were loyal and they stood fierce by each other’s side.

And I was starting to feel bad to think that I’d ever considered them an enemy.

Due to the champagne and welcoming atmosphere, I shared details about my family and childhood. Dima’s uncles asked about some of my most prominent family members, calling them by name—aunts and uncles that had served for were currently serving in Congress as well as other prominent political positions.

Additionally, Mrs. Ivanov asked me tons of questions over past articles that I’d written which signaled that she’d truly done her research on me in these past days.

Toward the end, a storm came. Rain battered the glass ceiling. The black chandelier trembled above us several times. Thunder boomed. Lightening crackled. And the lights flashed on and off in the mansion.

When the winds whipped against the glass, Mrs. Ivanov looked at us. “You can’t drive back into the city now.”

Dima sighed. “Mom—”

“I don’t want you to die in an accident. All of these deaths are giving me anxiety.”

“We’ll be fine, Mom.”

“Please, Dima. Just give my mind peace for this evening. You both must spend the night. I have extra clothes and tons of vodka. I won’t accept any other answer.”

Dima sighed and glanced at me. “How do you feel?”

Thunder rumbled loud.

I widened my eyes. “I’m fine with that. It sounds like a pretty bad storm outside.”

“Splendid.” She gave me a thumbs up. “I’ll have Sylvester prepare your rooms.”

Dima frowned. “Rooms?”

“Yes.” Mrs. Ivanov crossed her arms over her chest. “Rooms, Dima.”

“Mom, we’ll only need one room.”

“You two are not married yet.”

“These are modern times.”

She held two fingers up. “Modern times or not, two bedrooms will be prepared.”

“What’s the point of two bedrooms, if I’m going to just sneak into Rose’s room late at night and have my way with her?”

Maxim chuckled.

Mrs. Ivanov’s face didn’t look pleased. “Sneak, if you must, Dima, just don’t let me catch you.”

29

And then. . .

Rose

L

ater that evening, we disappeared to our separate bedrooms.

The storm continued to batter the mansion.

As if guarding my virginity, Mrs. Ivanov escorted me to mine. I was happy she didn’t put me in Dima’s childhood room. I wasn’t sure how comfortable I would be with all those paintings of him watching.

“Goodnight, darling.” She gave me a hug.

“Thank you for having me stay.”

“My pleasure.” She left and shut the door behind her.

I took in the space.

The guest room was warm and welcoming. The décor boasted buttery yellow and cream. Here and there, gold accents popped. There was a king size bed, dresser, and lounge chair. On one side, sheer yellow curtains showed glass doors to balcony. A private bathroom stood on the other side.

At the foot of the bed, the staff had laid out canary yellow silk pajamas, honey colored slippers, and lemon towels.

My life just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

Since Dima interrupted the date with Mayor Parks, I had not left his side. I’d been staying with him in his penthouse. Now, I was hanging out at his childhood home. My family would be freaking out if they knew, and I could not care less.

It is what it is.

I picked everything up and entered the bathroom. It took no time to get in the shower and clean up.

After the shower, I put on the pajamas and marveled at the Ivanov family crest embroidered in the top right half of the top. A shield stood in the center with a beautifully designed rose on it. A pair of unicorns flanked the shield. Their horns looked sharp enough to pierce anything. Fangs poked out of their mouths.

“I wonder why they chose a rose in the center.” I ran my fingers around it.

The conversation with his mother returned to me. She was in no way subtle about her desire for Dima and me to be a couple. Part of me loved that she liked me. The other part hated that I might disappoint her and Dima.