Chapter 45: FINN/MISHKA
A massive, heavy dog came barreling around the corner, its claws clicking wildly against the polished hardwood.
It was a Caucasian Shepherd... a giant, muscular beast with a thick, fluffy coat of gray and silver fur, broad shoulders, and a tail wagging so hard it shook its entire backside.
Isabella gasped, her heart leaping into her throat as the heavy sound of the animal rushed straight toward them. "Aaron!"
"Down, Boyar," Aaron commanded. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a sharp, absolute authority that cut through the room like a blade.
The massive dog skidded to a dead stop three feet away, its heavy paws sliding slightly on the smooth floor.
It let out a low, disappointed whine, its long pink tongue hanging out as it panted furiously, its dark eyes fixed on Isabella with utter curiosity.
Before Isabella could catch her breath, another set of frantic footsteps came rushing down the hall.
"Boyar! Stop! Hey! Get back here, you stupid rug!"
A teenage boy came skidding around the corner, wearing a baggy gray hoodie, dark jeans, and socks that slid effortlessly across the slick floorboards.
He had messy, dirty-blonde hair hanging down over his forehead and bright, lively hazel eyes.
He was breathing heavily, his hands resting on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. "Boyar, I swear to God, if you eat another—"
The boy froze.
He raised his head, his eyes widening as he saw the tall, imposing figure standing in the middle of the hall.
"Mishka?" the boy breathed out, his face lighting up with instant, unyielding excitement.
Aaron didn’t even have time to answer before the fifteen-year-old launched himself forward.
Finn crossed the room in three long strides and practically threw himself at Aaron, wrapping his arms around the older man’s waist in a rough, energetic hug.
"You’re back! You didn’t even call! Everyone said you were going to be in Moscow until next week!"
Aaron didn’t flinch. He didn’t lose his footing for a single second, nor did his hand let go of Isabella’s waist.
He let out a low, dry chuckle, reaching down with his free hand to ruffle the boy’s messy blonde hair with a heavy, affectionate cuff.
"Quiet down, Finn," Aaron said smoothly, though the usual cold edge in his voice was completely gone, replaced by a warm, easy familiarity. "You’re making enough noise to wake the dead."
Finn pulled back, a wide, crooked grin on his face. "Where have you been? I saw your car on the news! Well, I didn’t see the car, but Pyotr said you were at some airport with reporters, and then—"
Finn stopped.
His hazel eyes finally drifted sideways, landing on the small, pale girl standing tucked securely against Aaron’s side.
Isabella was wearing the soft white wool sweater and light trousers Aaron’s staff had provided, her long, wavy hair falling over her shoulders, her cloudy green eyes staring blankly into the room.
She looked tiny, fragile, and utterly breathtaking in the soft amber light of the hall.
Finn’s mouth fell open slightly.
A bright, sudden flush of red spread from his neck all the way up to his ears.
The loud, confident teenager instantly morphed into a bumbling, stammering mess. He took a hasty step back, nearly tripping over Boyar’s massive tail.
"Oh," Finn squeaked out, his voice cracking slightly. "I... uh. Hi."
Isabella blinked, her lips parting in surprise. "Hello?"
"I... I didn’t see you there, ma’am," Finn stammered, rubbing the back of his neck furiously, his face burning like a torch. "I mean... miss. I mean... hello."
Aaron watched the boy’s complete breakdown with a slow, wicked smirk spreading across his lips. He shifted his arm, pulling Isabella just a fraction closer to his hip.
"Finn, this is Isabella," Aaron said smoothly, his tone laced with heavy, deliberate amusement. "Isabella, this is Finn. He’s usually slightly less clumsy than this, but puberty is a difficult time."
"Mishka!" Finn hissed, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of crimson as he glared at the older man. He quickly straightened his hoodie, trying to look taller. "I’m not clumsy! I was just... chasing the dog."
Isabella couldn’t help the soft, breathless laugh that escaped her lips. The sound was light, warm, and entirely genuine... the first real laugh she had uttered in weeks. "It’s nice to meet you, Finn."
Finn looked like he had just been handed the keys to a brand-new sports car. His eyes shone with open, unfiltered adolescent adoration. "It’s... it’s really nice to meet you too. Are you... are you Mishka’s friend? Or... is it true what Pyotr said?"
"What did Pyotr say?" Aaron asked, raising an eyebrow.
Finn swallowed hard, glancing nervously between Aaron and Isabella. "He said... he said you went to America to steal a wife."
Isabella’s face flushed bright pink. "He... he what?"
Aaron let out a deep, rumble of laughter, his hand remaining flat and possessive against Isabella’s waist. He looked down at her red cheeks, leaning close enough that his breath brushed her temple.
"Pyotr talks too much," Aaron murmured smoothly, though he didn’t deny it. He looked back up at Finn, his eyes glinting with dark mischief. "What do you think, Finn? Did I pick well?"
"Mishka!" Isabella whispered furiously, her hand reaching up to swat at his chest. "Stop telling him things like that!"
Finn, however, was nodding with complete, earnest seriousness. "Yeah. Yeah, you did. She looks like a princess. Like... an actual real one."
Isabella stood there, completely mortified, her hands flying up to cover her burning face as Aaron’s low laughter echoed through the high-arched hall.
Boyar the shepherd dog chose that exact moment to step forward, shoving his massive, wet nose directly into Isabella’s palm, letting out a soft, happy huff.
"Oh," Isabella gasped, her fingers instinctively sinking into the dog’s thick, soft fur. "He’s... he’s huge."
"He’s a big baby," Finn offered quickly, leaning down to help guide her hand over the dog’s broad head. "He likes behind his ears."