Red Alpha: A BWWM Russian Alpha Billionaire Romance (5 page)

Demyan Boykov.

One of Danshov’s close inner circle – resident Russian multi-billionaire, entrepreneur, philanthropist, and all around poster boy for the amazing progress that the country had made over the years. He was the man Osip sent to ensure that everyone thought the best of his country – and from the moment she laid eyes on him, it was very easy to see why.

“Yes,” She finally managed, tearing her gaze away from his. “I’m Cadence Freedman.”

“Demyan Boykov.” Extending the hand that didn’t hold one of her hands to shake, the man offered her a thin smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Pleasure to meet you.” As she took his hand, Cadence felt Boykov’s gaze raking over her as he assessed her. That would be, the young woman reminded herself, what Danshov would have instructed him to do – make sure that she wasn’t a threat.

But surely, for a man with Boykov’s…
colorful
history, it shouldn’t take more than a few seconds? His gaze seemed to linger on her for a minute or more – almost until she felt like squirming in discomfort. However, Cadence had long since trained such nervous habits out of herself; or rather, Myles had forced her to. If she was going to be intelligence, he had constantly drilled into her mind, one of the most important things that she could do was to stay cool under pressure.

Now she just had to hope that Boykov didn’t level a gun at her head. As cool as the young woman could be, she didn’t think she could achieve
that
level of blasé.

“You as well, Mr. Boykov.” She managed to sound pleasant, despite the fact that the firmness of Boykov’s grip was doing all kinds of…strange things to her long repressed libido.

“Prime Minister Danshov sent me to fetch you. He regrets that there’s currently no space in his manor as it’s being renovated and begs that you take a room in mine as sufficient replacement.”

Well…this was unexpected. Cresseda had instructed her to make sure that she was placed as close to Danshov as it was possible to be- under the premise of learning from him. Cadence had planned on staying in the man’s manor and being able to spend a substantial amount of time with him each day.

“I…will still be able to spend time shadowing the minister, will I not?” She inquired, arching a brow as she gazed up at Boykov.

The man’s smile went, if possible, even thinner. “That’s why you’re here, is it not?”

How could the man be so damn beautiful and utterly chilling at the same time? “In that case,” Cadence struggled to make her smile genuine, “I thank you for your hospitality.”

“Of course.” The quirk of his lips became somewhat snide. “Only the best for our American friends.” With that, he released her hand to pick up her other bag, hefting its sixty pound weight onto his shoulder as if it weighted exactly nothing. Cadence told herself that she wasn’t imagining the way the man’s massive shoulders must flex beneath that coat as she followed him out into the cold once more.

Christ
, the frigid air was penetrating. In the five minute walk through the snow to the covered car park, Alessia felt ice pricking the corners of her eyes as her tears froze before they could fall. “I take it,” Boykov mentioned casually as he came to a stop next to an impressive silver Mercedes, “You have not experienced cold like winter in Russia before.”

“No.” Cadence shook her head slowly, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. “I grew up in a very warm place. This is all new to me.”

“Well then, we must be certain to keep you warm.” With that, he dropped her bags in the trunk before rounding the car to open her door for her. The luxurious interior of the car smelled of leather and tobacco – and was still gloriously warm. The moment the door closed behind her, Cadence’s nose began to run as her body re-acclimated to the temperature. In an almost errant motion, Boykov whipped a handkerchief from inside his coat pocket to hand to her before he started the car.

“Thank you,” Cadence managed gratefully, trying to dab her nose as delicately as she could. She tried to think of what Alessia would do in her place. Director Cresseda wouldn’t be happy to hear that she wasn’t staying in the presidential manor – that was for certain. But perhaps being close to Boykov would offer an alternative opportunity?

The man was quiet during the drive into Moscow, which provided Cadence with the time to assess both him and the metropolis around her.
This
was Alessia’s city- the place she had been so enamored of. Cadence had to admit that it had a certain type of frigid, foreign charm – all the buildings frozen and everything covered over by a thick layer of snow. The juxtaposition of old and new architecture – cathedrals next to rising skyscrapers – was certainly impressive – as were the crowds of people willing to be out and about, braving the cold. Atop that, they were about half as covered as she was, leaving her to wonder how half the population of the city avoided frostbite.

Near the center of the city, they passed a vast, red brick building with whirling, multicolored spires atop one – one that everyone who had taken a single geography class would have recognized. “The Kremlin.” Boykov spoke before she could as he glanced at it in passing. “Where you’ll be spending most of your time, I gather. Once I speak to Prime Minister Danshov, he will no doubt be anxious to get you a schedule of his upcoming events.”

“When will I be meeting the Prime Minister?” She asked, even as she wondered if this was what Alessia’s first view of the Kremlin had been like – if she had been filled with the same wonder.

“If you’re not too tired, he invites you to dine with him tonight in the city. You’ll be joined by myself and a number of others who wish to make your acquaintance.”

Somehow, Cadence highly doubted that there were many in Danshov’s inner circle that wanted to meet her. To size her up, perhaps, but not to actually get to know her. They’d be too busy watching her for that.

“Sounds wonderful.” She’d had so much practice perfecting her smile with Cresseda that it came almost effortlessly by this point. It was no trial to paint a picture of herself as happy-go-lucky to Boykov –anything to lessen the tension inside the car. It wasn’t as if she’d expected the man to be overly friendly, but she’d met more outgoing inanimate objects.

They continued the rest of the trip to his manor in silence, and Cadence was proud that she only snuck a few glances at Boykov. She tried to tell herself that she was sizing up potential obstacles, but the fact of the matter was that Demyan Boykov was far too attractive for his own good. He was like no other Russian she’d ever seen; in any case, she’d never found herself with any difficulty breathing while in the presence of a Russian man before.

Luckily, she was spared much more discomfort by their arrival at an immense, glimmering apartment building at the edge of the city. Boykov pulled into an underground parking garage and into a secured space before getting out of the car. Before Cadence could open her own door, he did it for her – and she realized that the man moved with startling agility for one so large. Boykov helped her from the car – his touch once again sending a jolt of awareness through her system – and then he was gone, gathering her bags to carry inside.

The Boykov apartment took up the entire top two floors of the building, and though Cadence had seen some particularly well-decorated locations in her short time working for intelligence, the Boykov penthouse topped them all. Every surface, from the rich carpet to the marble countertops adorning the kitchen, spoke of luxe wealth. The entire affair had to be well over nine or ten thousand square feet – and even in simply following Boykov into the immense space, she felt as if it would be easy to get lost.

At the same time, the mind that had served her well for the duration of her physical exercises was busy making a mental map of all she encountered. From the entryway to the two great rooms, the library, servants quarters, kitchen and Boykov family quarters, she committed it all to memory as quickly as she could. Boykov himself didn’t take the time to show her everything, instead only highlighting the areas they passed through. They were flocked on either side by an amalgamation of maids and servicemen, all of whom seemed to speak exclusively Russian. Cadence caught a couple of whispers about her nationality, but nothing overtly threatening, thankfully – and then, all at once, Boykov came to a halt before a set of grandiose double doors.

“These will be your rooms,” He announced, before opening the doors.

Of course, Cadence heard the word “rooms” and assumed that he merely meant a single room – she was wrong. The area in which she would be staying was, in fact, comprised of four rooms: a sitting area, an immense bedroom with a four-poster, canopied bed, a bathroom that might well be larger than her entire apartment back home, and a small office filled with light. The suite offered an amazing view of the city beyond, and Cadence had to stop a moment and stare out over Moscow. It looked like a snow-covered jewel – just as Alessia said it would.

“I trust you’ll be comfortable here.” She jumped when Boykov’s voice came close to her ear, whirling to see the man standing less than a foot behind her, taking in the view over her shoulder. While Cadence was sure that she looked somewhat in awe as she gazed out over the city, she couldn’t read Boykov’s expression. It was clear that he didn’t want to be read – indeed, everything about the man seemed to be wound tight as a bowstring.

He had shed his coat, she noticed, and revealed a formfitting black thermal underneath that did perhaps too much justice to his physique. Where she came from, multi-billionaires probably did more partying than they worked out. Things must be quite different in Russia. “Yes…I will, thank you.”

“Feel free to refresh yourself for a few hours.” The man fixed her, once again, with his penetrating gaze, giving her a quick and very obvious once over. “Someone will come to get you for dinner around five.”

“Thank you.” Cadence had barely whispered the words when the man turned on his heel to leave her, the door snapping shut behind him with resounding finality. The young woman was surprised that she didn’t hear it lock.

Setting down her bag, she struggled out of the thick layers she wore until she was down to her underwear and camisole before making her way into the light-filled bathroom. It felt like she had been travelling for days, and the moment she’d seen the gigantic bathtub, she knew that she intended to lounge in it for a couple of hours. Later, when everyone was asleep, she would find a way to check in with Cresseda – but for now, she wouldn’t stress too much.

There would be plenty of time for that later.

Leaning over the tub, she began to run the water, highly tempted to just drink in the steam for the rest of the afternoon. After her little jaunt through the Moscow cold, she was beginning to wonder if she would ever feel warm again.

Cadence’s behind was directly in the air when a low, feminine voice caught her attention. “Very muscular, aren’t you? For a diplomat, at least.” The young woman straightened immediately, her eyes widening at the sight of a second occupant in her bathroom – one that she’d sworn hadn’t been there a moment ago when she was giving her suite a once over.

No…she would definitely have remembered someone like this.

The blonde was shorter than her, and obviously displeased, her thin lip curling as she stared up at Cadence. She was clad in a pair of leggings that clung tightly to her slender form, along with a black sweater. In contrast, her vibrant hair fell over her shoulder in a single, waist length braid – and eyes the same piercing green as Demyan Boykov’s assessed her.

Another familiar face.

Cadence exhaled slowly, swallowing her alarm as she took in the woman standing at the opposite side of the bathroom.

Elisaveta Boykov – elder sister of Demyan and clearly the one she would have to work to please. It wasn’t flattering, of course, that the woman had already caught her in her underwear, but that, no doubt, had been her exact intention. Luckily enough, Cadence was far from modest – something her parents had often lamented about when they were on better terms. “Um…hello?” She managed, feigning ignorance. “Who are you?” She sank down on the edge of the tub, sizing up the newcomer. While Demyan had at least played cordial, his sister did no such thing.

“Do you make it a habit of staying with strangers?” Her accent was much thicker than her brothers – though her English was just as crisp. “For all you know, I could be an assassin – sent to kill you.”

Cadence allowed herself a humoring smile. “I would hope that Mr. Boykov wouldn’t be so careless. I hate to imagine what would happen to US-Russian relations if I were killed on his watch.”

Elisaveta’s eyes narrowed, almost as if in warning. “Indeed.” She continued to stare at her, and Cadence briefly toyed with making a snide comment about the woman’s sexuality but decided against it. Cresseda had granted her this opportunity because she
wasn’t
a wild card. Getting cute with Boykov’s sister wasn’t going to earn her any points. “Enjoy your stay in our home.”

She was about as talkative as her brother, Cadence assessed, watching the woman stride off with the grace of a leopard stalking its prey. It was obvious that Danshov liked to surround himself with dangerous people. Anyone with eyes could see clearly enough that both Demyan and his sister were no strangers to violence. It was evident in every movement that they made.

Though it might, of course, also have something to do with their history. While the Boykovs were surrounded by a significant amount of speculation, their parents had been famous enough while they were alive. They were one of the few Russian families that had spoken out against the harsh communist regime – and for that little indiscretion, they had met with an unfortunate accident – the details of which had never really come to light.

All that Cadence had learned was that the Boykovs were orphans – wealthy orphans who donated most of their money to the cause of making Russia great.

And living in the lap of luxury apparently.

Turning off her bath water, Cadence undressed as she contemplated how she was going to navigate the precarious situation in which she found herself. One thing was for sure: letting her guard down around either the disarming Demyan or his sister would no doubt be a very unadvisable mistake.