Bad Russian Boss: A Billionaire Office Romance

by Bella Rose

  ***

  Maxim felt the most amazing sense of joy at the news that he and Landry were going to have another child. It was so perfect. They already had their darling Isabella. Now they would have another bright-eyed imp to run them ragged.

  Taking his wife’s hand, he hurried his way down the hill toward the patio with every intention of telling anyone in sight the marvelous news. Then he saw another guest step out onto the patio from the house. The tall, broad-shouldered man was strangely familiar. It did not take long for Maxim to identify his younger brother. Perhaps it was poetic that Pyotr had finally decided to make an appearance today of all days. That Maxim’s younger brother arrived on this day when Maxim was celebrating the birth of his oldest child and eagerly anticipating the arrival of his younger one.

  Landry tugged on his sleeve. “Is that…?”

  “Pyotr, yes.” He kissed his wife’s forehead. “Go to Isabella. I must speak with Pyotr for a moment alone.”

  “Take your time, my love,” Landry whispered.

  Maxim watched his wife join her friends and their daughter and knew that he was the luckiest man on the planet even if his younger brother refused to reconcile. Pyotr walked toward Maxim with a solemn expression on his face. None of that mattered. When Maxim held out his hand in peace to Pyotr, he was calm and utterly composed.

  “Welcome, brother,” Maxim said warmly. “I’m glad you came. When you didn’t respond I was afraid that you were still hesitant to bury the past between us.”

  Pyotr seemed to think that over for a moment. Then he finally took Maxim’s hand and shook it. The touch was stiff and cold. “I still haven’t forgiven you.”

  “For what?”

  “For being older, I think.” Pyotr sighed. “You were always so good at everything. It made me angry to be constantly compared to you. When Boris approached me with his half-cocked plan to get some extra cash from you, I only supported him because I wanted to see you brought down a few pegs.”

  “Was I that insufferable?” Maxim wondered. He had been arrogant at times, yes, but he had hardly thought he was that bad to be around.

  “No.” Pyotr made a frustrated sound. “I think that was what angered me the most. You were also so fair and so nice. There was nothing to be bitter about.”

  “You realize that you’re describing a time when you were angry because I did not treat you badly. I find it horrible to be punished for not being an asshole. God knows I was an ass plenty of times. I’d rather you hate me for that.”

  “There is no logic in what you’re saying, brother,” Pyotr said with a laugh. “But I find I can’t fault you for that. I want my brother back. I want to be a part of what you’ve built here.”

  “As long as you didn’t come to be a sponge,” Maxim warned. “If that were the case I would have held on to Boris.”

  Pyotr held up his hands. “Ugh! Don’t say that name to me. I’ve had enough of him for a lifetime.”

  ***

  Landry waited until she was sure they weren’t going to come to blows. Then she scooped Isabella off the ground and onto her hip. Sashaying over to her husband and his brother, she offered each a warm smile.

  “Pyotr,” Landry said. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

  “And you,” he said with a nod.

  She swung Isabella around and plopped the smiling baby girl right into her uncle’s arms. “And this is Isabella. Your niece.”

  “Beautiful,” Pyotr breathed. “She is a gorgeous child.” Then Pyotr looked directly at Landry. “Are you certain she belongs to my brother? Because I was certain that any child of his would come out looking half troll.”

  They broke out into a bantering barrage of Russian as the two brothers exchanged ridiculous insults with each other while the baby looked back and forth between them with a mystified expression on her cherubic face.

  “Please don’t teach her such language,” Landry chided the men. “Really. When she starts running around cursing in Russian, I’m going to know exactly who it was who taught her.”

  “The cake!” Dinah crowed. She clapped her hands and started waving everyone in. “The caterer has just arrived with the birthday girl’s fabulous cake!”

  “As ordered by Auntie Dinah,” Landry whispered to Maxim and Pyotr. “So both of you had better be all compliments or Dinah will rip off your balls.”

  Pyotr’s eyes practically bugged out, but Maxim only laughed. “My wife has quite the sense of humor,” he told his brother. “You’ll get used to it before long.”

  Pyotr might have spoken, but at that moment the catering staff brought out an enormous six-tiered cake with delicate lacy pink roses and vanilla frosting. The cake was riding on its own little cart and several additional carts followed with satellite cakes.

  The staff worked their magic and within seconds there was an entire fairyland of cakes all connected with winding elven staircases. There were figures of knights and damsels, unicorns, and fairies all over the confection. It was a tiny dream and the audience oohed and ahhed appropriately.

  “That is a cake,” Maxim whispered. “Do I dare ask how much that cost me?”

  Landry elbowed her husband. “Just enjoy every bite and don’t think about it.”

  They were all still laughing when Dinah plucked baby Isabella from her uncle’s arms and placed her in the ribbon-bedecked high chair that now sat center stage on the patio. Landry glanced around and realized that it was sort of like the same tableau from her wedding. There were the other people in her security division, a few from human resources, some administrative staff, and even the security-force guys. Her friends Thayla and Casey had their cameras poised and ready, and Dinah was just about to hand over the first slice of cake to the eager birthday girl.

  As Isabella dug into the moist yellow-and-white confectioner’s dream with her tiny fingers, every person there let out a collective “aww” and Landry had the feeling that the entire world had just come full circle in the most perfect of ways.

  THE END

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  All Rights Reserved. Copyright 2016-2017 Bella Rose.

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  Chapter One

  Courtney Piers-Cameron felt a little overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of her friend Bella’s wedding. The outdoor venue was packed with guests from the best families in the highest social circles in town. A full orchestra sat beneath a pavilion near the bower where the marriage vows would take place. The entire scene was dripping exotic flowers and reeked of money. Bella’s father had spared no expense for his daughter’s long-awaited marriage to the scion of one of America’s unofficial royal families.

  Courtney’s other friend, Monique, appeared by her side. “This is so gorgeous! I can’t wait to get married!”

  “I think we’re technically not supposed to be out here,” Courtney murmured. “The bridesmaids are supposed to be helping the bride get ready in that little antechamber inside the cathedral.”

  Monique gave a little moan of envy. “Who gets married outside the church? It’s so, so bold! It’s like Bella is a total trendsetter. You know this will become the ultimate new wedding trend.”

  “More like the cathedral couldn’t accommodate the five hundred guests her father demanded be invited to the nuptials,” Courtney said, trying not to be too sarcastic. “That meant they had to settle for having the wedding cover the entire church grounds and not just the building.”

  Cou
rtney attempted to surreptitiously scratch her head. Her long honey-colored hair had been pulled back from her face so tightly she could have sworn she should be unable to blink. The florist had provided little flower wreaths for every attendant’s hair. Courtney was ready to rip the pins out of her hair and give her scalp a rest. But for now, that would only make her situation worse.

  “Oh look! There’s the wedding planner!” Monique was waving to the very official-looking woman with the earpiece on and a severe expression on her face.

  Courtney grabbed her friend’s hand and yanked it down. “Don’t get her attention on purpose! We’ll get sent back to wedding prep hell!”

  “Girls!” The wedding planner’s sharp voice made Courtney wince. “Get your behinds back to the dressing room. The bride needs your help for her big day, and I don’t want to be searching all over the cathedral for naughty bridesmaids later on today!”

  Courtney hated being taken to task like this. Her father did it to her all the time. It made her feel ten years old again. So she gave the wedding planner a deadpan stare. What did it matter to Courtney if the woman hated her? “I hardly think Bella will miss two out of ten attendants. Honestly. The groomsman I’m supposed to be paired up with didn’t even bother to show up for the rehearsal last night. Shouldn’t you be more worried about him screwing everything up?”

  The wedding planner drew herself up so tall that Courtney was surprised she didn’t hear the woman’s spine snap in half. “You’d better listen to me, you spoiled little brat,” the woman snarled. “Your father just contacted me, very adamant that I find a place in my very busy schedule to plan your upcoming nuptials. Either you toe the line here today or I’ll have to tell him that his pretty princess has such a bad attitude that I don’t care to work with her.”

  Courtney froze. No. He wouldn’t dare! They had discussed this. Her father had promised her that there was no pressure to marry his business partner’s spoiled bastard of a son.

  “That’s what I thought!” The wedding planner took Courtney’s silence for acquiescence. “So if you don’t want to disappoint Daddy and be the laughingstock of your snobby little circle of friends, you’d better behave. Remember, you need me far more than I need you.”

  The wedding planner spun on her heel and stalked off like a lioness that had just taken down a gazelle. Courtney could only stare openmouthed after her and wonder if her entire world was about to crumble.

  “Ahem.” Monique cleared her throat. “Is she talking about Creighton Kemper?”

  “I think so,” Courtney whispered.

  Monique still seemed to be waiting for something. Finally she heaved a big sigh. “Is there anything you want to tell me?”

  “No.”

  “Wait.” Monique’s pretty face crinkled into a confused expression. “So nobody proposed. You didn’t accept. And now some wedding planner with a stick stuck up her ass is informing you that she’s been hired by your father to plan your wedding?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  Courtney started heading back toward the cathedral with Monique in tow. “Yeah. I don’t get it either.”

  The two women made it all the way back to the bride’s little prep room just in time for the champagne toast. Bella was in her element. The daughters of the most elite families in the city surrounded her. She was the center of attention. And it was immediately evident that she was also a little bit tipsy.

  “There’s my girls!” Bella shouted, sounding both giddy and tipsy, a truly winning combination for their adorable friend. “Now we can start the party! Where have you guys been?”

  Monique opened her mouth to speak, but Courtney cut her off. Monique had a bad habit of being a little too honest when it came to gossipy news. “We were just admiring the beautiful setup outside!” Courtney gushed. “It’s so pretty, Bells. You’re the luckiest girl ever!”

  “Toby is such a doll!” Bella agreed. She made a gesture and a young woman in a black-and-white uniform hustled over to Monique and Courtney with a tray of champagne glasses. “Now take your drinks and let’s toast to my awesomeness!”

  Courtney glanced around at the friends she’d had all through college. There were ten of them, all dressed in pale yellow. They all wore wreaths of flowers in their hair, and they were all looking like they’d been pinched and prodded within an inch of their life to look like an article out of Martha Stewart Weddings. Was this really what she wanted in life? Was she destined to be the next half-drunk bride schlepping down the aisle?

  God save me now.

  * * *

  Mikhail Krachenko shifted from his right foot to his left. He hoped he didn’t look too bored. Or really, what did he care for such things? He and Toby Pinckney were business associates. Toby and his family were one of the first legitimate businesses to recognize Mikhail’s fledgling security firm not long after he’d gone out on a limb and tried to go legal. That was more than five years ago now, and Toby had become one of Mikhail’s closest friends.

  Which apparently meant that Mikhail was required by some male code he’d been heretofore unaware of, to volunteer his services as groomsman. It shouldn’t have been necessary. Toby had plenty of blue-blooded asshole friends who had been hanging around since prep school waiting for the chance to be in Toby Pinckney’s wedding. After all, the Pinckneys were the closest thing Americans had to royalty.

  One of the other groomsmen nudged his right shoulder. “This shit is so damn boring,” the guy murmured. “I just said yes because there are ten freaking bridesmaids who will all be drunk and horny at the reception.”

  Mikhail ruminated on the fact that they—the ten groomsmen and their penguin leader, Toby—were standing at an altar waiting for a freaking bride to walk down the aisle and the guy beside him was only concerned about drunk, horny bridesmaids. It was truly a beautiful illustration of the difference between men and women.

  Mikhail let his eyes glaze over and his thoughts stray. He was more concerned with his latest business deal than this stupid wedding anyway. Mikhail was finally closing in on the one man he had long had a desire to see humbled. Finally, after more than ten years of waiting, Gordon Piers-Cameron was having the sort of financial trouble that made him vulnerable to a man like Mikhail and his much more solvent company.

  A smile stretched across Mikhail’s face. Gordon Piers-Cameron had been in a position to help Mikhail once upon a time. He had not only chosen not to help a young man trying to make his way in the world, he had opted to send Mikhail’s life into a tailspin that had taken years to recover from. But that didn’t matter now. Piers-Cameron was the one who was going to come begging. And Mikhail was going to love every second of that experience.

  There was a swell of music, and Mikhail realized that while he had been ruminating on his upcoming triumph over an old enemy, his friend Toby’s wedding had been going full steam ahead. The bridesmaids were all strung out on the opposite side of the altar from the groomsmen. Toby was waiting. And now the bride was walking down the aisle to meet her future husband with a very definite and eager spring in her step.

  In spite of his personal success, Mikhail felt a moment’s envy for his friend. Despite all of the hype about royalty marrying royalty and keeping money in the family, Toby really loved Bella. If the girl’s expression was anything to go by, she really loved him too.

  The sight brought a memory slamming back into Mikhail’s mind. Sixteen-year-old Mikhail with his arms around a very beautiful fifteen-year-old girl with long silky hair and big brown eyes that always seemed to see right through him. He could remember the sunshine-and-flowers scent of her skin and the cherry flavor of her lip gloss. She had been all that Mikhail wanted. She was light and acceptance in a world that had always seemed so dark and foreboding.

  The memory faded and Mikhail felt himself scowling as he recalled what came next. Her father had caught them together and announced that no amount of success or money would ever make Mikhail Krachenko good enough for that
man’s daughter. Mikhail was nothing but a fatherless delinquent with ties to the Russian mob and a rap sheet that had started before he became a teenager.

  It was strange. Mikhail almost never thought about that time in his life. He pushed memories like that one out of his mind and forgot about them. Women were nothing but a commodity these days. If he ever wound up standing at an altar with some woman who intended to become his wife, it would have to be because there was a huge payoff involved. Mikhail had no time for petty attraction, wooing the fairer sex, or even worrying about whether or not he remembered a woman’s name past two in the morning.

  “I now pronounce you man and wife!” The minister raised his arms and shouted the words as if he was more excited than the couple that had just tied the knot. “It is my honor to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Toby Pinckney.”

  There was a raucous round of applause from the enormous assembled audience. Over five hundred people were clapping, and every eye on the property was glued to the happy couple standing less than a foot away from Mikhail. He at least attempted to slap a neutral expression on his face. There was no need to be glowering in the background of every candid picture that the high-priced photographer attempted to take.

  The newly married couple began their trek up the aisle. As directed, the attendants paired up in the center of the aisle in front of the altar and began their long walk as well. Mikhail fell in line, feeling ready to be done with this whole charade and wishing he could somehow weasel out of the reception.

  “Mikhail?”

  The whisper took him completely by surprise. He found himself staring dumbly into a pair of soft brown eyes that sent him rocketing back to a hot summer night a few months before his seventeenth birthday.

  The air gushed out of his lungs, taking one word with it. “Courtney.”

  Thankfully she had the presence of mind to grab his arm. They began walking and Mikhail couldn’t help but wonder at how right it felt to have this woman on his arm again for the first time in such a long, long time.