Vik (Shot Callers Book 2)

by Belle Aurora

  What was he doing?

  Yes, we did want Sasha’s charity. We so did.

  Please help us.

  We’re poor.

  As Sasha leaned back on the sofa, he peered out the window and began to speak. “Charity? You know something I don’t, Viktor?” He turned his head to face his friend, and his brow quirked. “Are you telling me I’d be throwing my money away?”

  “No, it’s not that—” Vik started, and Sasha began to nod, cutting him off partway.

  “Good. Because I’m offering three hundred thousand at ten percent.”

  My own mouth rounded in silent shock as Vik’s expression slackened.

  That was a lot of money. More than we needed.

  Sasha moved to rest his ankle on his knee, seeming disinterested as he stated, “And I expect to see a return on my investment. Maybe not in your first year, but soon after. So, if you’re expecting charity, you can curb that notion right now. With me as partner, you’re going to work harder than you ever have in your life.” Sasha looked at his friend and laid it down. “Listen. Coming from someone with a bit of experience in this area, let me offer you some advice.” His amber eyes held no emotion as he shrugged lightly and spoke bluntly. “You’ve got an idea. That’s all. A good idea. Even stupid people get those once in a while.”

  Oh no.

  This better not be going where I thought it was.

  If my brother was going to shut Vik down, I was going to rush out from my hiding spot and kick him right in the balls. My stomach began to ache as I eavesdropped from the shadows.

  The way Vik’s brow pulled down tugged at my heart strings.

  Sasha went on. “Now, it’s up to you to make sure it doesn’t get skewed. It’s up to you to make sure your idea doesn’t get compromised. This is the idea that sold me. I want what you’re promising. Not some watered-down, budget-conscious version of that idea. Building a business is hard, okay? The first couple of years are the worst. I think you’ll find that good ideas like this cost more than just money. It’s a commitment that has to come first.” I couldn’t help but notice the way my brother’s expression turned faraway. “It is time away from your family. It’s missing out on important events. If you’re reliable to your business, you’re unreliable to everyone else. It is… solitude. Some days, you’re going to feel like a god. Others are going to be so bad that you’re going to want to sell.” He took in a gentle breath. “Do you feel me?”

  I couldn’t be sure, but from where I was standing, I could have sworn Vik looked at Sasha differently. As if he understood him a little better. His response was mild. “I feel you.”

  “Good.” Sasha stepped closer to the poster. “This is really well done.”

  “Yeah,” Vik agreed. “You should ask Mina about doing one for Bleeding Hearts.”

  Sasha’s brow pulled down at hearing Mina’s name and quickly changed the subject. “What do you plan on calling this place?”

  Vik did not stutter. “The Red Square.”

  Sasha chuckled.

  Shit.

  Was that a good chuckle or a bad chuckle? I couldn’t tell from here.

  My heart began to race at the very same time my gut twisted. This was nerve-wracking.

  “Going with a Russian theme?” Sasha’s lip twitched, and I stopped breathing altogether. He remained silent for a moment before he said, “I like it.”

  “I thought…” Vik cleared his throat and spoke again, this time with confidence. “I thought we could collaborate. Being that the bar would be open earlier than Bleeding Hearts and wouldn’t have an admission fee, we could offer half price entry to those who want to go from the bar to burlesque. The ultimate goal would be to have patrons start their night at The Red Square but end it at Bleeding Hearts without it costing either of us a loss.”

  Sasha’s eyes narrowed in thought. After a moment, he nodded in agreement. “We’ll need to hash it out.”

  “We have time,” Vik returned with cool conviction, and from my place in the dark, a slow smile stretched my mouth, and I hugged myself.

  He was a natural. I could already tell he was going to be great.

  And from the way Sasha observed him closely, he could too.

  “Congratulations,” uttered Sasha, holding out his hand to Viktor. “You’ve got yourself an investor.”

  Vik blinked down at that outstretched hand a long moment before he slapped it away and threw his arms around him, hugging him tightly with unspoken gratitude and brotherly affection. And while Sasha did not return it, he did allow it.

  My heart remained a melting pile of goop in my chest. And as I observed the heartwarming scene in front of me, I thought on what my brother had said earlier.

  Sasha was right. Building this business would not be easy.

  It would mean time away from each other. Coming second for a while. Being supportive when all I wanted to do was scream at the top of my lungs.

  But we would make it work.

  This was Viktor’s dream, and nobody was more deserving than him. If that meant sacrificing a small part of what we had to bring it to fruition, I’d eagerly give whatever was needed. No question.

  And while we seemed to do everything out of order, we always got there in the end.

  We simply took our time in getting to where we were going, taking the scenic route.

  Epilogue

  Nastasia

  “My friends say that Uncle Sasha owns a titty bar,” Mila uttered, lightly tapping her spoon against her bowl from her place at the table. And as my brows creased at what the inquisitive little bird said, Vik’s surprised gaze met mine from across the kitchen, his shoulders only barely shaking in restrained laughter.

  He jerked his chin toward his daughter. I narrowed my eyes at him, my mouth turning lax.

  Oh no. No way. He was not doing this to me again.

  I already had to explain why the dogs were trying to play leapfrog in the backyard. It was a little harder to explain why it resulted in a litter of the cutest German Shepherd puppies you ever did see.

  We had a silent conversation.

  My handsome husband shrugged lightly in a way that said, What? It’s better she hears it from you.

  My hip popped with attitude while my brows rose in a way that said, You want to test me, bub? Go right ahead. I hope you enjoy being intimate with your hand for the foreseeable future.

  The silent threat was obviously legible enough, because Vik lifted a hand, cocked his head to the side, and spoke out loud, “Baby….”

  Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Mila looked between us. “Well? Is it true?”

  It took everything I had to not feign a fainting spell and crawl out of the kitchen, far, far away.

  Have kids, they said.

  Best days of your life, they said.

  No one warned you about the thousand and one awkward talks you’d have to have with them and how each time they said something like my daughter just had, a little part of you dies inside.

  Inwardly, I mock-cried.

  My face bunched with the sudden bad taste in my mouth, and my stomach twisted just enough to twinge. From my place behind the kitchen island, I took a deep breath, and a single brow rose as I thought really hard on how to tackle this.

  It was true, of course, but I couldn’t very well tell her that.

  Can’t we?

  No.

  Why not?

  I don’t know. There are rules about this kind of thing. If I tell her, she tells her friends, and then all of a sudden, my child becomes a social pariah, her invitation to birthday parties conveniently lost in the mail.

  “Well…” There was more than enough butter on the toast I was holding, but I just went on buttering, because being a parent was hard, and Mila had little mercy for her dear mom. “I mean… it’s not like…. I’m not really sure how to….”

  Shit. I was panicking.

  Was my throat closing up?

  Why was it hard to breathe?

  “Vik,” I beg
ged quietly. “Would you say something?”

  And this bitch.

  He damn well nearly rolled his eyes at me before taking in a deep breath and running a hand over his neatly trimmed, lightly salted beard, his plain gold wedding band winking in a wandering ray of sunlight that escaped through the kitchen blinds.

  “It’s not a titty bar,” Vik groused.

  Thank God.

  That was fine. It was enough. There was no need to delve further.

  So, would someone tell me why this man—this senseless man—added, “It used to be a titty bar.”

  Great. Why not just tell her that her uncle is a goddamn deviant?

  Our daughter sat looking down at the table, her dark-brown hair pulled up into a high ponytail, those cynical blue eyes identical to her father’s. “Okay. Sooo…” She drew out the word, first looking to Vik, then over to me. “What’s a titty bar?”

  Oh my God. No.

  The butter knife clinked on the counter as I set it down. My eyes closed in silent prayer as I whisper-hissed, “Would everyone please stop saying titty?”

  That was when our son chimed in.

  It wasn’t surprising. He always did stick up for his older sister.

  The problem was, she was too inquisitive. She also didn’t know when to quit. Nikita, on the other hand, was all logic, and he often used that to get her out of trouble.

  Although it irked me to no end, I had to admit it was really damned sweet.

  “It’s not a swear word, Mom,” Kit offered very helpfully. “Titty or tit is just another way to say teat. All mammals have teats. They’re not offensive; they’re functional.”

  My eyes closed as a sigh left me.

  I had to be gifted with smart children, didn’t I?

  Vik chuckled from the table. The asshole.

  And when Kit added, “Besides, studies show that people who cuss are more likely to be trustworthy,” Vik glanced across the table at his son before facing me with raised brows and a proud smile, daring me to tell him he was wrong.

  The dark-haired boy turned to me, sitting up straight, with intelligent amber eyes that saw only a fraction of what was going on around him. “I would rather someone have a foul mouth and be honest than to use charm to lure a person in with pretty lies.”

  Gods above. He was too much sometimes.

  The truth was, Kit was smart in a way that often intimidated. He was polite and eloquent but could sometimes come off blunt. He was funny without meaning to be. He was sweet and kind and cared for his siblings on a level so deep that it often overwhelmed him. He also didn’t have the capacity to lie.

  Yes.

  Although Nikita was my son, born of my body, he was more like his uncle Lev than any of us had expected.

  “Amen to that,” Vik muttered under his breath as he continued to read the paper, and when Kit blinked at him, Vik winked in return.

  Kit’s lip twitched, but as soon as it had come, it went.

  And my chest ached.

  But I had a good man by my side. One who, like me, knew firsthand that Nikita’s life would be difficult for no reason other than the person he was. And so we did what we could to make life easier for him.

  Vik set his paper down and reached out to gently poke the deep-set dimple in Kit’s cheek. When the little boy looked to his dad, Vik smiled softly, leaned forward, and explained quietly, “It’s okay to smile, bud. It’s okay to laugh too, even if no one else gets the joke. If you’re happy, you’re allowed to show it. Got it?”

  Kit’s body went tense, and my heart sank.

  This happened sometimes, usually when he thought he messed up.

  Kit hyper-focused on the table, his breathing turned heavy, his eyes darting here and there, seeming to struggle with whatever emotion he was feeling. His lips twitched, and his cheeks ticked. His shoulders jerked, and his head whipped to the side as he gasped quietly. And as he struggled, I saw my husband give him his attention, watching carefully without intervening until absolutely necessary. He waited a moment, and when it was clear Nikita was struggling with his fight, only then did he act. As our son unraveled, Vik straightened, scooted closer, and put a firm hand on Kit’s shoulder.

  “You didn’t do anything wrong, champ,” Vik reassured him, but Kit was too far gone.

  When I made to move out from behind the counter, Vik held his hand up, letting me know he had it under control. He gently took hold of our son, gripping Kit’s upper arms, squeezing tightly, applying pressure until the little boy calmed.

  Oh, sweetheart.

  I watched hopelessly as his rigid movements slowed, then ceased. Vik took a long look at our son’s face and nodded mildly, keeping his expression light. “Hey, we’re okay. You’re doing great. Now, can you do me a favor, bud?” Kit’s face, now a deep shade of red, nodded erratically, unable to look into his father’s eyes. “Breathe for me.”

  The exhale that shot out of him was so harsh, so shaky, that it broke my damn heart.

  Vik held onto Kit and breathed with him, giving him a visual aid, something to concentrate on as the chaos inside him subsided. Once our son seemed to regain control, Vik asked, “You good?”

  Nikita nodded, panting lightly as he stumbled through the aftereffects of his panic, and then, that was that. Vik released his arms, ruffled his hair, and went back to reading the paper. As my son picked one of the eight squares of toast I set out for him, I witnessed him measure it against the others. Once he was satisfied that it was close enough in size not to bother him, he shoved it into his mouth, chewed, and resumed his morning like nothing ever happened.

  People often described Nikita as special.

  I didn’t love that, but I also didn’t hate it. Kit was special, just not in the way they meant it.

  And just because they’d never met another like him, it didn’t make him singular or unique.

  I preferred the term exceptional.

  I caught myself smiling. I couldn’t seem to help it when I watched him. And that smile grew as I caught the way he moved his glass three inches away from his plate.

  No more, no less.

  Three inches.

  I was amazed at my son’s ability to move forward. Yes, he had frequent episodes, but once they were over, they were forgotten. Done and dusted. And, like Lev, he would learn to adapt.

  He would have to, because although things had changed and society was much more understanding of neurodiverse people, the world did not stop for them.

  It broke my heart to know he would struggle. I hated that no matter how much we did, how much we taught, how much he learned, it might not be enough to make life simpler for him.

  Luckily, he had a family who understood the person he was and loved him unconditionally. He also had an older sister who would kick the shit of any little asshole who dared to mess with her beloved brother.

  Every single one of us turned to look at the baby monitor when the gentle coos of our youngest sounded. All at once, Vik, Mila, and I moved to get up, but as usual, Mila was the fastest. Vik and I shared a look before he chuckled under his breath. My smile grew at the way our eldest nurtured her siblings.

  It didn’t take long for Mila to return with our newest addition. With sticky sweetness, I observed as she kissed Yulia’s little head, then quietly giggled to herself, bunching her face as the baby’s hair tickled her nose.

  She spoke softly, in awe, “She’s so fuzzy.” Mila glanced over at me with a look that told me she couldn’t handle the cuteness. “Like a kiwi.”

  Dear Lord.

  Mila brought her sister over to the table, holding her gently but firmly like we’d taught her.

  Vik leaned over to run a soft hand over our youngest’s little head, pressing a tender kiss behind her ear.

  Nikita blinked across the table at his sisters, his lips tipping up at one side. Not quite a smile, but a show of his adoration nonetheless.

  And when I brought the extremely buttered toast over to my husband, his arm slid around my waist, holding m
e to him as I quietly observed our growing brood.

  My smile soft. My heart full. A sudden thought shot through me.

  We hadn’t done too badly after all.

  That smile grew a little, and my heart warmed immeasurably.

  Not bad for the wild, irresponsible, and reckless.

  Sure, the scenic route took longer. But the view was absolutely incredible.

  The End.

  A note from the author:

  Hi there,

  Firstly, thank you so much for taking the time to read Vik. If this was your first book in the Shot Callers series, I would suggest you go back and read Lev too. Sasha will be the next and final book with a plan to release in 2022.

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Goodreads or Amazon. It truly does help us out.

  I hope you’ll check out some of my other books!

  Thanks again for giving Nastasia and Vik a chance.

  All my love,

  Belle Aurora x