7. Date
Chapter seven
Date
T atianna was positive she shouldn’t be here. As her car stopped in front of the restaurant, she stared at it, unmoved, even as her driver opened the door. She twisted her fingers in her lap, hating how much effort she put into her appearance. But what was supposed to do? When the leader of a mafia family invites you to dinner, you cannot say no.
And I didn’t want to.
That was the truth, but not something she would admit out loud.
Tatianna’s stomach was in knots. It felt like when her brothers were at the tire swing by the lake, and they would make fun of her, convinced she would never jump from it. And when they were proven wrong, she basked in the astonishment on their faces. That’s what this was. When she walked in, she wanted Yakov to be just as surprised.
With a burst of courage, Tatianna grabbed the man’s hand and stepped out. Her leg was nearly healed two weeks after her abduction. Her father kept her on bedrest and refused to let her go anywhere. This was her first outing, and she had lied to him. She told her father she was going to a sewing group. He loved to believe she would actually do something like that, and so the lie was easy to mold.
Though she was sure if her father ever asked her to sew anything, he’d have her in every lie she’s told since she was thirteen.
The restaurant was loud and boisterous. A live band played a fast-paced jingle that had all the couples dancing. A heavy plume of smoke clung to the ceiling, and male servants went about with food trays and drinks, while the women workers wore tight shorts and bras and walked around with trays of cigarettes.
A man greeted her at the front and guided her through the club. It was unlike anything she’d ever seen before—a place her father would have forbidden and the kind of club Fedor would be embarrassed to venture into. It wasn’t fit for a lady of her standing, and yet, she found a few people she would see at parties chatting away with total disregard.
Up a flight of stairs and behind glass doors, Yakov was sitting behind a desk with a cigar between his fingers. He leaned back as she entered and smiled. There was no look of surprise, no shock. Just a smug satisfaction that pissed her off. As if he knew she’d come.
Tatianna waited for him to speak, but he continued to silently congratulate himself, and she couldn’t stomach it. She wanted to punch him, but since she couldn’t do it physically, she attacked verbally: “I know it was you.”
The smugness dissipated slowly like a weak flame dying out. With a flick of Yakov’s hand, it sent his guards out, and he sat up, putting out his cigar as the doors shut, leaving the noise on the other side. It was quiet, and Tatianna shifted uncomfortably. She hoped that hadn’t pissed him off too much.
“How?”
Tatianna wasn’t about to let him steer this conversation. She had spent two weeks trying to figure out the reason for the attack, why Yakov would pretend to be saving her when it was so clear it had been something he put together. She even tried to convince herself she was wrong, that it couldn’t have been him, but her instinct wouldn’t let her. “Tell me why.”
“Tell me how,” he demanded.
Tatianna shifted, glancing around the office. There was a couch, a table set for dinner, and his desk. She wondered how often he came here and why he didn’t hang out at home. There were no pictures on the walls and no indication he had family. How was he coping with being the head of the family for two months? Was it everything he ever wanted?
She set her purse on her lap as she sat on the couch. “I suggested you steal Yefim’s wife, and then you steal me. It made sense. But you botched it. I could have planned it better.”
Yakov sat on the couch with her. He leaned back, an arm on the back of it, while he crossed his legs. His fingers were an inch from her shoulder. Yakov always wore a fancy suit, but tonight, he sported a thick wool, dark blue sweater and black pants. She wondered if he paid someone to find his outfits for him. She doubted he wasted his time to get the latest styles. It made her lose a little confidence. The tight dress she wore was last year’s fashion, but at least her purse was up to date. Would he notice?
“But why?” Tatianna pushed.
Yakov shifted. She constantly managed to make him feel uncomfortable. No one typically questioned him. Women were more interested in bedding him than berating him. But it’s like this one had no sexual drive whatsoever. Could she be lesbian? He didn’t know many, but the ones he did were more butch-like. Even so, it would make more sense.
He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her the reason, but the words came out regardless: “I would come to your rescue. You would fall terribly in love with me, and your fiancée would be so indebted that he would have no choice but to give you over to me.”
Tatianna blinked with an open mouth. And then she burst out laughing.
The laugh went on for a considerable long time. Every time she thought she was done, another round of laughter would take hold of her. Her side hurt. She could barely breathe, and she slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to suppress it, but it kept coming.
Yakov got up, poured them two glasses of whiskey, and sat down, waiting patiently until her laughter got a hold of itself. He took a sip, eyeing her, adoring and loathing her for making him feel like a fool.
“Truly,” she finally coughed out. “Why?” She dabbed her wet eyes with a handkerchief, blowing out air to calm herself. When he was silent, she looked at him. His gaze hopped around the room, drinking before he set his glass in his lap. “Oh,” she whispered, sobering quickly. In order to pierce this embarrassing situation, Tatianna cleared her throat. “Do you know where you went wrong?”
Yakov wasn’t able to reply before she answered her own question.
“You didn’t vet your men well enough. You cannot hire random people to do your bidding properly. You must interview them and build that loyalty. Success isn’t one person pulling the weight of an entire ship. It is everybody doing their part.”
“Why do you speak like this?”
Tatianna paused and then asked, “Like what? Educated?”
“If you want to put it that way. My sisters are educated, but they only talk about flowers and food and babies and other senseless stuff–”
“What makes that senseless? Because it doesn’t pertain to you? I can talk about food and babies and have wonderful conversations. There’s a lot to be said about food–”
“You,” Yakov chuckled, leaning forward. “You are two different people.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just an observation.”
“I feel we are all two people. The person you have in front of your men will not be the same that makes love to a woman. Is it?”
“I guess not.”
Tatianna shifted in uneasiness. She wanted to know if he was a virgin and now that question was answered. Which made him more intimidating because chances were, he knew what he was doing in bed and the thought made her antsy. “I don’t know how to be in front of you. I don’t know if you want me to be pleasant or honest.”
“Honest,” he answered quickly. “Always honest.”
“I will be unapologetic.”
“That’s fine.”
“You make me very nervous,” Tatianna admitted and then bowed her head. She hadn’t wanted to reveal that, but now honesty was the only thing on her lips.
Yakov sat back and wondered, “Why?”
She barked, “Why? Because you are the boss, aren’t you? You rule over my father, my household, and everyone I know. You can kill so effortlessly and burn buildings to the ground without care. You can have anything you want with a wave of your hand. So what happens if I upset you? What happens if I deny your advancement? Who will receive punishment if I don’t comply with your demands?”
Yakov rested a finger against his temple. He watched as she twittered, taking up her drink, sipping and hissing in disgust before she set it on the side table. She held her purse tight as if it kept her safe. “You have already upset me,” he admitted. Her eyes widened. “You have already denied my advances and I highly doubt you would comply with any demand. Have I retaliated against you?”
Tatianna struggled with a response.
Yakov rested his drink on the table behind him before he scooted forward on the couch till their knees nearly touched. An arm still stretched across the back, invading her space, and Tatainna’s breath caught as she stiffened. “I asked for honesty, and you lied to me.”
“I haven’t lied. You do make me nervous.”
“But not for the reasons you claim.”
Every muscle stiffened as she stared at him wide-eyed. There was a secret she was keeping, even to herself, and to know that he had already found it frightened her. How could he read her so well?
“I don’t need to force you into submission, Miss Nevsky. Do you know why?” Yakov’s hand landed on her ankle, and she watched it glide over her calf and up to her knee. Her breath hitched with every inch.
But he stopped, and she yearned for him to go higher.
“Because with or without it, you will come to me.”
She swallowed hard, trying not to move, to ‘accidentally’ force his hand to drift further. “What makes you think that?”
He shrugged, his eyes sinking down her long neck to the dip in her cleavage. “If it is the long game you wish to play, then I am here for it. But if, at any point, you want to give up this farce of a dutiful daughter and doting fiancée, I will be more than happy to rescue you.”
Tatianna couldn’t breathe with him so close. His words were sinking into her as if she were a dying ship in the ocean heading straight for the bottom of the abyss. His eyes were a Siren’s song, drugging her, pulling her. The word ‘rescue’ was a spear to her heart because, for so long, all she wanted was to be saved.
To save herself , Tatianna pushed out, “I’m marrying Fedor.” She pulled her leg out, fixed her dress, and stiffly maneuvered her back to him.
Yakov smirked, impressed by her withdrawal. “Then what are you doing here?”
Tatianna snapped to her feet, a ship breaking the waves, returning to the surface. “I should go.”
Yakov sat back and watched her fiddle with indecision. He was disappointed but not surprised. She was loyal and obedient—everything a woman of her birth should be. He didn’t want to break those values in her. He just wanted them for himself. He wanted her to be loyal and obedient to him.
“My sister Luerna is celebrating the birth of her twins,” Yakov interrupted her departure. “I know she would love more female friends, and since you are such a great conversationalist about senseless things, I’d like to extend an invitation. The gentlemen will be having a much more interesting time. I’ll send an invite to Fedor. No doubt, he would love to celebrate. I heard he is now the new head of the Utkins’ household. I should call to congratulate him.”
Tatianna wasn’t sure what she heard in his words, but there was something hidden in the depth that made her pause. “What are you planning for him?”
Yakov took up his drink. “It doesn’t concern you.”
“I’m marrying him, it does concern me. He is a good man.”
“Yes. I’m aware.”
“He won’t see that you are playing him to get to me.”
“As grandiose as your ego is, Miss Nevsky, I’m sad to report it is not about you. I had plans long before I met you that the Utkins had potential. Fedor is my way into the rest of his family.”
“Killing his father wasn’t the best way to go about it.”
A smile paused him. She could see his faults better than anyone. “No. Unfortunately, I am impulsive. It is a family curse.”
Tatianna didn’t know if she believed it, but she doubted Yakov lied often. He didn’t seem very good at it. “Fedor likes you. He wants to be just like you.”
Yakov stood. He looked squarely at her. They both knew the impossibility of such a thing. As she herself said, Fedor’s a good man, and good men don’t become mafia leaders. “Should I tell him, or should you?”