Twilight Sins (Kulikov Bratva Book 1)

I drop a handful of licorice into a vase in the center of the coffee table and step back to admire my handiwork. A usual girls’ night with my friends involves significantly more alcohol and significantly less gummy candies shaped like animals, but since Mariya can’t drink, I think I did a nice job.

Gregory stretches up on his back legs to sniff at a cheese puff. I bat him away.

“You already had catnip. Don’t be greedy.”

He opens his mouth like he might hiss before he lifts his tail and saunters away. I caught Yakov “accidentally” dropping scrambled eggs on the floor for him this morning. Gregory is getting spoiled in this house.

I hear footsteps behind me, and since Yakov and Nik have been out of the house all day, I know it’s Mariya.

“All of the junk food categories are represented,” I announce without turning around. I point out each quadrant as I go. “We have your gummies, both standard and sour varieties. Then the chocolate spectrum from white to dark—my personal favorite. Finally, savory snacks. We have five different types of chips with three kinds of dips and some popcorn.”

I finish my spiel, ridiculously proud of my planning abilities—right up until I turn around and see Mariya standing in the doorway wearing a bedazzled halter top and matching skirt. She has on a full face of makeup and platform heels.

“Wow. You got dressed up for girls’ night.” I glance down at the gray sweats I stole from Yakov’s drawer. I had to roll them five times before they even remotely fit me. “Should I change?”

“Only if you want to come with me.”

I frown. “But we’re staying in. Movies. Trash TV. Candy.”

Mariya grimaces. “As much as I’d like to stay here and become one with the couch, I thought I might do something that’s actually fun instead.”

“This is fun.”

“No, right. Yeah.” She nods and surveys the room like I’m standing in front of my human hair collection and she’s trying not to scream in horror. “This is totally fun. It’s just not my vibe tonight. I need to dance.”

I look at the snack table again and slouch. I spent an hour making a list this morning. Hope bought all of the supplies at the store on her way into work. I put actual effort into this hangout. But I have way too much self-respect to admit that to Mariya.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I literally have to save you from this Depress Fest you’re throwing. You need to come with me.”

“Movie nights aren’t depressing! Snacks make things fun.”

She gives me a sad smile. “Okay. Then let’s rain check this super fun night you planned. One night, when I have nothing at all going on and I’m desperate for entertainment, we will reconvene.”

“There’s no other way to take that than ‘the wrong way,’” I grumble.

Mariya grabs my arm and pulls me towards the door. “Let’s go have a real girls’ night. There’s a great club I know.”

“A club?”

“Oh, no, Luna.” She winces. “Have you never been to one before? It’s like a bar, but with more dancing.”

“I know what a club is!” I snap.

She laughs. “I know you do. I was kidding.”

“I’m not. How are you going to get into a club? You’re not old enough?”

“When you look this good,” she says with a saucy twirl and a posh accent, “doors open for you.” I arch a brow and she huffs out a breath. “I know the bouncer, okay? I’ve got this all planned out.”

“That means your brother knows about this? You cleared it with him first?”

“Yep. The fun police have been alerted.” She flashes her phone towards me. There’s a text exchange up on the screen, but she locks her phone and somehow slides it into the pocket of her extremely tiny skirt before I get a good look at it. “The boys get to go have some fun. I say it’s our turn.”

“Yakov and Nik aren’t out on the town. They’re working.”

“Which is their version of fun.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s not my fault they’re boring. But we are young and vibrant. Let’s go out.”

If Mariya is trying to appeal to my vanity, she’s doing a good job. Standing here in sweats with my hair in a bun while she’s beaming pure youth and vivaciousness into the world does not feel awesome. I want to go have fun. I want some fresh air.

“I have nothing to wear,” I say, gesturing to her.

Mariya steps back and assesses me. “You and I are probably about the same size. Your hips might be bigger. And your boobs.”

Oh, yeah. This girl knows exactly what she’s doing.

So do I, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to fall for it.

Mariya grabs my arm. “I have the perfect dress for you.”

This time, I let her pull me down the hall to her room.

I check the side mirror as Mariya pulls into the parking garage. “Maybe you should slow down. I don’t know if security can track us in here. I don’t see anyone behind us.”

She hums. “They have their ways. Like ninjas, those guys. Very sneaky.”

She parks and climbs out. There isn’t time for doubt or second-guessing when Mariya is leading the way.

As soon as I agreed to go with her, she stuffed me in a dress, swiped makeup on my face, and had me in her car before I could process what was happening.

Yakov lost Mariya during a lunch the other day. How am I supposed to keep track of her in a packed nightclub? I can’t believe he agreed to let me be her chaperone.

I hurry out of the car and hustle after her. “Hold on. These heels are hard to walk in.”

“They’re not made for walking. They’re made for looking hot.”

The strappy silver heels do look hot. She isn’t wrong. I’m just not sure these are the right shoes to be wearing when I need to keep up with one of the youths.

We’re a block away when I start hearing the music. It’s a dull thrum that only gets louder the closer we get to the building. The river of people waiting outside the doors hum like cicadas.

It’s been weeks since I’ve been around this many people. Even before being sequestered in Yakov’s mansion, this night out would have been intimidating. It’s the kind of plan I flaked on repeatedly.

“That’s a long line. Maybe we should go somewhere else.”

“We can skip the line.” Mariya reaches into her bra and pulls out an ID. “Make sure you call me Marissa when we’re up there. The guy who made my fake fucked up my name.”

I snatch her arm and spin her to face me. “You said you knew the bouncer! Why do you need a fake ID if you know the bouncer?”

“Backup plan, babe. You always gotta have one.”

“You’re underage. You can’t even drink. We shouldn’t be here!”

Mariya shushes me, smiling at a guy waiting in line close enough to overhear us. Even hearing what I just said, he still winks at her. Maybe these sharp stilettos will end up being a good choice, after all. I might need them if creeps like that are lurking around.

I cannot believe she talked me into this.

“This is a bad idea, Mariya. We shouldn’t be here. There’s no way your brother is okay with this.” I look over my shoulder, but there’s still no sign of any security trailing us. None that I can see, anyway. I pray they’re just very good at blending in.

“Yakov is fine with it. He told me I couldn’t go out unless I had a chaperone.” She claps me on the back. “Hello, chaperone. Plus, he took you out on a date the other night.”

“We went to a nice restaurant, not a club. And Yakov came with me.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Gross! I do not need to know what goes on in the bedroom.”

It takes me a few seconds to put it together. Then I swat her shoulder. “That’s not what I meant! I would never say that to you!”

Mariya bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, Loon. Chill out. It was a joke.”

Kayla is the only person who has ever called me “Loon.” If I wasn’t churning with guilt, I’d be more excited that Mariya has given me a nickname. As it is, I’m starting to spiral.

“This is all feeling very wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. It’s no secret you two have sex. You sleep in the same room.”

I wag a finger at her. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Don’t try to distract me.”

Mariya breezes past me. “I don’t need to distract you. Come with me or don’t. I don’t care. I just thought you’d want to live a little instead of being my brother’s little pet.”

“I’m not his little pet! And it’s a lot easier to ‘live a little’ when we are actually alive. I think we should go home.”

She crosses her arms. “You even sound like him now. All that time indoors is warping your brain.”

I cross my arms back, meeting her stare. We’re in a faceoff for thirty seconds before Mariya spins me around and points to the blacked-out exit door on the side of the building. We’re both reflected in the glass. “Look at yourself.”

“I know what I look like.”

“No. Look at yourself.” She stands behind me, both of us looking at my reflection.

Mariya’s off-the-shoulder, blue sequin dress really was the perfect choice for me. She told me the blue would bring out my eyes, but the cut of the dress brings out my ass much more effectively. I might have to buy this one off of her if it doesn’t cost a small fortune.

“I look good,” I admit.

“You look amazing. You look too good to get covered in chip crumbs and drool over some hot dead guy in an ancient movie.”

“Sabrina is a classic. Just because it’s old doesn’t mean⁠—”

“Come inside with me,” Mariya begs, squeezing both of my hands. “I don’t want to go in without you.”

She’s being nice. We both know she’d plunge head-first into this crowd without a moment’s hesitation and leave me on the curb. Then I’d have to explain to Yakov that I abandoned his little sister in a club.

Plus, I do look good. It feels like a waste to get this dolled up and not even go inside.

“One hour,” I say, lifting a single finger. “One hour. Then we eat chips and drool over Humphry Bogart.”

Mariya squeals. “I don’t know who that is, but let’s go!”

She snatches my finger out of the air and drags me down the sidewalk. We walk right past the long line of annoyed people waiting at the doors. One flash of her ID to the bouncer and the velvet rope is opened for us.

“I told you it wouldn’t be a problem,” Mariya says over her shoulder. “The ID has the wrong first name, but it has the right last name.”

That sneaky little⁠—

Mariya didn’t know that bouncer. She just knew the Kulikov name would get her through the door.

Any chance of yelling at her for lying to me is swallowed in the music thumping through the speakers. The dance floor is wall-to-wall bodies and Mariya beelines straight for it.

One hour. I need to keep Yakov’s little sister accounted for and alive for one hour.

I can do this.

Mariya and I fight our way to the center of the dance floor through a crush of bodies. Before I can even take a breath, she throws up her hands. “This place is crazy. Let’s go upstairs.”

“We just got here.”

“Actually, drinks first.” She cuts through the crowd again towards the bar. I elbow and shove my way after her, already sweating.

It’s about to be the longest hour of my life.