“Balance in brotherhood. To our brother.” Maxim raises his.
“Balance in brotherhood. To our brother.” Each member present takes his turn, lifting his glass and holding my gaze.
“Balance in brotherhood.” I lift mine, and we all drink.
The men thump me on the back, and we file out of Stepan’s second-floor studio.
“Ready to surprise your girl?” Maxim asks.
I nod. “Ready.”
“Sasha says the women are finished prepping.” He looks up from a text on his phone. “You go get Kat, and we’ll join the women.”
I spent the past three and a half weeks moving mountains to put together a clay studio for Kat. It’s on the first floor because the kiln will have to be installed in the basement, and I want her to be able to have easy access. Also, Ravil gave her a street-facing window, so she can display her creations, if she ever feels comfortable.
I’ve been able to keep the entire endeavor a secret, pretending I’ve been busy with work for Ravil and haven’t had a chance to even look into fulfilling my promise to her yet. Sasha–who always loves a party–decided to throw Kat a “surprise studio” party. She, Nadia, Lucy, Story, and Nikolai’s girlfriend, Chelle, spent the last hour decorating it with balloons and flowers and are waiting there now to jump out and yell surprise.
I take the elevator up with the same giddy satisfaction coursing through my veins I get every time I go to our apartment.
Living with Kat is an intense pleasure. If I hadn’t been so determined to honor my offer of building her this studio, I never would have left her side. Despite everything being new and me leaving her alone far too much, Kat remains upbeat. She’s been feeling her way into life here, getting close with Nadia, making friends with many of the women in the building, especially Sasha and Story. She found a pottery class and is thinking about enrolling in community college.
We received word that her father will be extradited to Italy to face murder charges there. If he’s released, he faces proceedings in two other countries, so the chance of him going free are slim. Kat offered the entirety of the ransom her father paid for her to Nadia who refused. Ultimately, we agreed to split it half and half. Ravil and Maxim helped me set it up into investments, so we can all live comfortably off the dividends. While I’m grateful for the ease it brings all of us, part of me hopes Nadia won’t use it as an excuse to stop working. Getting her out of the apartment is crucial for her mental well-being.
I unlock the apartment door and find Kat waiting in–Lord help me–a new school girl outfit. This one has a pleated red plaid skirt and with a matching plaid collar around her throat. The white socks are thigh high and the crisp white blouse is open three buttons.
My dick instantly gets rock hard, and I literally groan out loud at the sight of her.
“Nadia disappeared, so I thought we could–” she cuts off into giggles when I throw her over my shoulder and start marching toward the bedroom.
But wait. I stop in my tracks.
“What?”
Ack.
I can’t.
Everyone’s waiting downstairs.
I pivot then set her back down. “Malyshka, you know I’m dying to take you into that bedroom and turn your pretty ass pink.”
“But?”
“But I have a surprise for you first.” I eye her outfit. I did make the rule that the outfits are only for my eyes, but she looks adorable, and I trust my brothers. Maybe that rule can be modified. I button one of the buttons and pull a piece of cloth out of my pocket. “Turn around and close your eyes.”
“Ooh. Are you going to tie me up, too?”
“Mmm, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, dietka?” I tie the cloth around her head to cover her eyes.
“Yes. As long as it’s not with a zip tie. I don’t ever want to see a zip tie again in my life.”
“I’m not tying you up right now, malysh. But I will later–I promise.”
“Is this about your tattoo? May I see it?”
“Later. Right now is your surprise.” I propel her toward the door.
“Oh! Are we going somewhere?”
“Da.” I lead her to the elevator, and we take it down to the first floor.
“Are we driving somewhere?”
“Nyet.”
“Are we leaving the building?”
“Nyet. No more questions, Kateryna. Just wait.”
I lead her to the studio and open the door. Our friends are packed into the space, waiting with the lights off.
“Where are we?”
I untie the blindfold, and someone flips on the lights.
“Surprise!” everyone yells. Confetti flies at us from all directions. The women made the studio festive with streamers and balloons and flowers. A banner reading “Kremlin Clay” has been strung across the back. Ice buckets with champagne perch on silver stands, and a giant charcuterie board is on the table packed with fancy meat, cheese, berries, honeycomb and crackers.