Page 28 of Daddy Brigadier

As I take in the scene, a cameraman strides past, lifting his camera. “Mayor, picture please!”

The man in the mask secures his arm around the stunning blonde beside him, striking a pose just as the flash lights up the room.

I slip away, far from the cameraman, blending into the crowd. My mission is clear. I’m here to watch Valentin without drawing attention.

I smooth the strap of my dress—sleek, form-fitting, and subtly provocative enough to catch the eye of anyone looking.

A man hooks his arm through mine. “Baby, you look beautiful tonight,” he growls, with a gentle caressing motion down my back.

“What the fuck?” I say, shaking him off of me and turning to the man. All of a sudden, I feel as if I swallowed a lead ball and it’s currently swelling inside my stomach.

Dmitri Savin, the powerful and influential Brigadier of the Savin family, stares at me for a long, confused second. “I’m so sorry. I thought you were my wife,” he apologizes.

I raise my hands in the air and smile. “She’s a lucky woman.”

Then, I swiftly turn away and get lost in the crowd before Elise sees me talking to her husband.

I adjust my mask, making sure it fits securely as I approach the gathering crowd. I notice that most of the men aren’t wearing masks. Only the women are. They probably think it’s less masculine to cover their faces, knowing the crowd of organized men that is here.

As the music fades, an announcement captures everyone’s attention. I share their curiosity and turn toward the double doors that slowly swing open.

The crowd explodes into cheers as Valentin Volkov enters the room. He’s a tall and handsome man. His black suit fits perfectly, drawing sharp, dramatic lines against his muscular frame.

My eyes narrow at the beautiful brunette by his side, and I can’t help but crinkle my nose in disgust. I swallow and scan the room, lowering my head, fully aware that I don’t belong here. He’s a Brigadier. Of course, he would have a date, wouldn’t he?

Then a man walks in behind them, impossible to miss. Not only is he taller than Valentin, but his manner of walking also commands attention. With his shoulders back and head held high, he carries an air of entitlement, as if the world owes him something and he is here to collect it.

It’s a powerful image, one that sends shivers down the spines of his enemies and makes others think twice about crossing him.

As the partygoers murmur excitedly, “Andrei Savin,” I rise on my toes to catch a better glimpse.So, this is the infamous Pakhan.

Andrei gently wraps his arms around the woman beside Valentin and whisks her through the crowd. I take a deep breath, realizing she’s his wife.

Maybe Valentin didn’t bring a date after all, and I smile at the thought.

Valentin stands at the front of the room, a younger version of himself whispering in his ear. However, he’s focused on thesurroundings, tuning out the voice as he meticulously takes in every detail of the space.

His eyes. God, those eyes, dark and intense, as if they’re looking through everyone and deciding who is worth the effort. They sweep across the room, lingering on me for half a second before moving on.

Focus, Lexi.I take deep breaths and refocus.

“Champagne,” one of the servers calls out as they glide by.

“No,” I reply without looking at them. “Actually, wait!” Everyone around me has a glass in their hand, and I need to fit in. I nod, and they promptly hand me a sparkling glass.

My fingers tighten around the untouched Champagne flute, giving the façade that I’m enjoying the party. I scan the crowd, pretending to sip my drink while keeping my ears open and trying not to say anything.

Power is currency, and these men are all billionaires.

These men aren’t your average businesspeople in New York City. No, they are the elite of organized crime, capable of ripping my throat out if they even discover I am here. What’s worse is that they would do it in front of everyone and face no consequences for doing so.

And I would deserve it.

“Relax,” I mutter to myself, acutely aware of my body tensing as I stand in the midst of the crowd.

I glance at Valentin, narrowing my eyes as I watch him. In a room full of men like him, I find him the most fascinating. I can’t exactly pinpoint what makes him different from the rest, knowing only that he does, indeed, make me feel different, and I can’t deny it.

Valentin looks happy, but there’s an undeniable hint of pain lurking in his eyes, as if he’d rather be far away from here.