“Oh.”
Reagan was staring into Niklaus’ face, or rather his twin brother’s, and there was no question about it. And unlike Niklaus, the twin wore a three-piece suit, and wore his hair longer.
“Oh,” Reagan said a second time, wincing as she turned back to look at Niklaus. “Is it too late to say I’m sorry?”
He was still glaring at her as he made the introductions. “Reagan, meet the Russian. Mishca, this is Reagan. Careful though, she seems to be in a slapping mood today.”
“Strong right hand,” Luka added from his position on the couch.
Reagan was definitely thinking that she didn’t like him. “But he said—”
“I said that he should have told you who Lauren was, and I stick by that. She is the wife of his twin brother, anyone would have been confused.”
“That was unnecessary,” Mishca said, leveling a stern look on Luka. Despite his age, there was a certain air of authority that hung around him.
“Well unlike you lot,” Luka went on. “I don’t appreciate being his dirty little secret.”
Reagan had to wonder, as she looked to the blond man sitting on the other side of the room, whether he was actually serious or whether he was touched in the head—but no matter which, either option made her just want to avoid him further.
“Does someone want to tell me what happened?” Mishca asked as he walked over to his wife, giving her an affectionate kiss on the cheek.
“What the fuck do you think happened? I got shot.”
If Mishca was fazed by Niklaus’ bad attitude, he didn’t show it. “I’m more concerned as to why.”
“Same reason I was tortured for three days—they thought I was you.”
Yeah, there was definitely something she was missing, not to mention the bad blood that seemed to be between them.
“Should I go ahead and assume this is my fault too?” Mishca asked, sarcasm dripping from his tone as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and tossed it on the back on a chair.
“I’m not in the mood for your shit right now, Russian. Fuck off.”
“You do know you’re Russian too, no—or are you still pretending the same blood doesn’t run through our veins?”
“How could I ever forget? I have to see your face staring back at me every time I look in the mirror.”
Reagan didn’t think this was their first disagreement, not with the easy way in which they addressed these things, as though rehashing an old argument. But Reagan could tell there was something different about Niklaus’ last statement, if only from the way Mishca’s head jerked as though he’d been struck.
“And when should I lay blame at your feet? Believe it or not, today wasn’t about me—it was about you. It would make more sense that they mistook you for me. So what if I would have had Sacha with me? Does it only matter if it happens to you and yours, Niklaus?”
Yeah, something was definitely wrong, Reagan could sense it in the way Luka sat a bit straighter, and Lauren touched a hand to her husband’s back, a statement in itself.
“Don’t you take that fucking tone with me,” Niklaus said climbing to his feet, shoving the stool back as he walked forward, but Reagan’s hand on his stomach stopped him.
With the way he was so intently focused on his brother, she was sure he would ignore her touch entirely, shoving past her to get to him, but he didn’t move, like the hand she held up was the only thing restraining him.
It was like a light switch had been turned off inside, or rather turned on. Niklaus had the tendency to act disinterested in most things, and rarely expressed emotion, but as he stood across from his twin, fury in his eyes, it was startling to see.
“Good on you, Niklaus,” Mishca said with a pitying smile. “Make another scene just because you’re in the mood for one. Sure, I’ll play along. Did something I say offend you?”
“Don’t ever say I don’t care about them.”
“I don’t think I did.”
“Stop playing fucking word games, Russian. As much as I would enjoy putting my fist in your face, I’ve got better shit to do with my time.”
“Do you? I’m amazed you even made it this long without picking another fight. Five minutes? That has to be a record considering the massive fucking chip on your shoulder.”
“Right, and it just appeared one day? You’re quick to bark accusations, but never address the part you played?”