62
Peter
“You’ve actually pulled it off,” Anton says admiringly as I adjust my black tie in the mirror. “Civilian life, amnesty, the girl, and all. I f*****g can’t believe it.”
“Believe it.” I turn around and grin at my former teammates. “How do I look?”
“Not bad.” Yan walks around me, studying me critically. “I would’ve gone with a white tie, though. More formal and goes better with your skin tone.”
Anton rolls his eyes at him. “Stop being such a f*****g metrosexual. Seriously, Ilya, what did your mother feed this one?”
“Same crap she fed me,” Ilya says and steps in front of the mirror to adjust his own tie. Unlike his elegant twin, who looks like he was born to wear a suit, Ilya resembles nothing more than a thug playing dress-up. The jacket strains across his steroid-enhanced shou
