HER RUSSIAN SURRENDER by Theodora Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

And he was even less of a fan now.
    He skated back over to the bleacher side of the rink, where his cousin was standing with a hot coffee.
    “Maybe we trade him before playoffs.”
    Alexei answered with a low laugh. “You don’t think Atwood got your point about not letting his fame interfere with his obligations?” His English words came out so smooth, one might not have known he’d been born and raised in Russia. Thanks to his business background, unlike Nikolai, Alexei had managed to mostly lose the accent of his youth.
    “I don’t like having to make the point,” Nikolai answered in Russian.
    “Be grateful,” Alexei answered, easily flipping back to Russian, too. “He is the reason you own the team now at such a low price.”
    True. Part of the reason Nikolai had been able to buy ownership of the team so easily was because the last owner had blown much of the team’s operating funds to sign Atwood to a seven-figure deal. That had been six months ago, and just four months before he’d been forced to formally declare bankruptcy when the new addition didn’t bring in as many new fans as he’d planned. With a sizeable investment from his billionaire cousin, Nikolai had been able to snatch up the team in a sweetheart deal.
    Now Nikolai was looking forward to leading the Polar into the future with a much firmer hand. But the acquisition of the team had come at great cost to his career.
    “Are you angry at him or angry because he gets to play the game you no longer can?” Alexei asked behind the short rink wall.
    Technically, you couldn’t both play and hold a majority stake in a team, especially if you didn’t want to cede your vote to someone else within your organization. He had a vision for the team, and not being able to speak or vote at NHL meetings wasn’t part of that vision. So sadly, the night before had been his last game with the Indianapolis Polar.
    “I am grateful for your support, cousin. Having control of this team is my dream,” he told Alexei. Then he grumbled, “Not so much the paperwork.”
    Now Alexei really laughed. “The only cure for paperwork is family. When I come home from the office and see my Eva, my Aaron, and my little Layla, all the bad parts of business go away. Think about settling down, Nikolai. It is best thing a business man can do for himself.”
    “We are from the same place, but my family was not like your family,” Nikolai answered. “I do not have a wish for a wife or children.”
    He thought about how Fedya had looked in his study. Wild eyes and obviously strung out. Like the worst stereotype of every junkie he’d ever seen on American television—but with a Russian accent.
    “I see how children can become,” he said.
    Alexei’s good cheer dimmed. “Yes, it was hard to see Fedya like that…”
    Both Nikolai and his older brother, Fedya, had started out as star players for the Indiana Polar after getting drafted as a pair from their Russian team. But whereas Nikolai had flourished, going on to win two Stanley Cups as a defenseman in the golden days of his adopted team, his brother, their original star left winger, had not been immune to the temptations America offered up to a previously cloistered athlete.
    He’d quickly fallen to the vices of drugs and alcohol and within two seasons, his star, which had burned even brighter than Nikolai’s, had been diminished. Eventually he’d been kicked off the Polar for missing too many practices. And in recent years, he’d sunk to a place so low, Nikolai had been forced to cut him off.
    He thought back to Saturday when his formerly large brother had shown up on his doorstep, emaciated and in possession of only half his teeth, claiming to need money. Badly.
    “Some Russians hired me to sell their product because their boss heard a lot about your father back when he was in Russia. I pretended Sergei was my father, too—least the dead fuck could do is give me his name for business purposes,” he told Nikolai in