16. Curse
Yakov hadn’t thought this through.
When he made Fedor his second, it was all with the intention that Tatianna would be his mistress. It would have been easier for them to see each other and sneak away when Fedor was kept busy, but now, her presence was like meeting someone with the plague.
Yakov clenched his hands behind his back as he spotted her entering the club. She was always well-dressed despite coming from a low-bred family. She wore a plaid pencil skirt and a long black blouse. Her blond hair hung in layers.
What bothered him was not how she was dressed but how she looked. She had a brilliant smile on, as if she had just won the war. It was bullshit. He didn’t know what he had expected, perhaps a gloom in her stance or a harsh glance in his direction, but she did none of this as Fedor led her over.
If anything, her eyes glittered upon seeing him.
It made him weary. What had she done to be so happy?
Yakov glanced behind him, double-checking that his security was still in place.
Fedor hailed from across the club. “Yakov! I love this place. It is so lively.”
Yakov smiled as he walked up to the man. “Is this your first time at my club?” Yakov asked, barely meeting Tatianna’s gaze. Her cheery disposition made his stomach sour. He should have had security search her. No doubt her knife is still attached to her delicious thigh.
Yakov swallowed, turning away and showcasing his building. “It is a great location for business.”
“We don’t have things like this where we are from, do we, Tati?”
Tatianna shook her head. “No, my father would never allow it. He’ll be convinced you are trying to ruin me, Fedor.”
Yakov flicked his eyes to her. Was she playing with him? Was this a fucking mind game? Yakov glanced around for a server. He needed a drink.
Fedor cackled. “We are weeks away from our wedding. You are mine now, and if I say you can have fun, then you will have fun.” He kissed her cheek.
Tatianna leaned into him. “You spoil me.”
“You are worth it.”
Yakov wanted to throw up. He kept a tight, dull smile till, finally, their affection ended. “Follow me.” He spun on his heel, his expression falling. There was nothing that pissed him off more than when someone didn’t know when they were defeated. What did he have to do to destroy her? He’s already taken her virginity. How could she act so withdrawn?
Because she is more like me than I care to admit.
Yakov didn’t know women were capable of such acting. She was a rare bitch indeed, but all people have their limits. He just had to push till she broke.
“My father owned this club. It is one of my easiest venues.”
“Is this where you plan to store the liquor?”
“Yes. Below is a storage fit for two thousand barrels. I want to mass produce.” Yakov stopped in front of the bar to order a quick beverage. Not surprised, Fedor denied a drink. Yakov took both shots. Nothing wrong with a little liquid courage to deal with a vengeful harpy.
But he paused as he put the drink to his lips. Would she be able to position him? He looked down at his drink and glanced toward her. She wore the same brilliant smile she had walked in with, yet humor shone in her eyes.
Yakov put the drink down.
“My company can only make ten barrels at a time,” Fedor continued.
Yakov cleared his throat and nodded. “Which is why we are expanding. This is where Nevsky will come into play. This union between your families is very helpful to me.”
Fedor slipped an arm around Tatianna’s waist, pulling her close. “So glad we could help.”
“Yes,” Tatianna lovingly said. “My father is excited about your meeting tomorrow.”
Yakov caught her gaze, and she gave him nothing in her expression. He wanted to slap her if only to see some kind of response.
“I always believed the southern families weren’t being utilized to the best of their ability. Now, they will pull their weight. It will make us all filthy rich.”
Fedor laughed, leaning into Tatianna as she giggled. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.”
“First, a tour,” Yakov waved to one of the girls. “Would you please take Fedor and his fiancée through the club?” He turned and hurried back to his office, trying not to slam the door, but he was losing control of his actions and his stupid fucking emotions. How could a woman get to him like this? Was it a curse? Or had he drunk some kind of potion that made him crave her like an addict?
A knock on his door pissed him off, and he yanked it open to scream at whoever it was.
Except it was her—Tatianna.
Yakov glanced behind her, but Fedor was down by the orchestra pit.
Tatianna answered his silent question. “I told him I had to go to the ladies’ room.”
Yakov clenched his teeth but gestured for her to enter. The door gently clicked shut, trying to show as little emotion as possible. He was not going to expose how deeply she cut him. “Was there something you wanted?”
Revenge, she thought. But as he stood before her dressed in a dark grey button-up with darker pants, she found herself losing such a drive. She had been hurt for the past two weeks, but as she went over all the details in her head, something didn’t add up. And now she was here to see if she was right.
Tatianna held up a paper. “My father’s proposal.”
“Your father’s? Or yours?” Yakov snatched it out of her hand and moved to the desk.
“He won’t talk to me or listen to me. Should I thank you for not having kicked me out?”
“You should.”
“Well, I won’t. You’re not doing it for me. You’re doing it for you. You want no one to know what terrible thing you’ve done. Because it is one thing to betray an ally. It is another to steal a daughter’s virtue.”
Yakov pressed his hands on his desk and smirked. “I didn’t steal anything.”
God, the way he looked at her made her insides quiver. Tatianna pushed strength into her back. She wasn’t going to break first. It was detrimental that Yakov did. Otherwise, any future of them together would be questioned. She needed to know that she had some effect on him.
“Your reputation is on my side. Being a man-whore comes with repercussions.”
“Are you crying rape?” Yakov chuckled, sitting proudly in his leather chair. “Who will care?”
Tatianna stepped up to the desk. “All the fathers that already hate you.”
Yakov’s brows knit in warning. There was some truth to what she was saying. If Nevsky spoke about the blackmail to Yakov’s generals, how many would he have on his side? It would be a civil war.
But Yakov knew the old man would be too humiliated to say a damn thing. Tatianna, on the other hand, would sacrifice her embarrassment for victory.
It’s the same thing he would do.
Tatianna could see the wheels in his head turning. It was perfection. So to drive her point, she continued, “You think all we women do is sit and talk about ‘senseless stuff.’ But I know the ones striving to be rid of you. What do you think their fathers will do if they believe their daughters to be next?” She enjoyed the way he looked away, the same question going through his head. “You need me to be quiet. You need this to go away.”
Yakov occupied his time by lighting a cigarette and blowing out smoke. Anyone else, he would have killed for such a threat. Because she was right. She could set off a chain of events that could alter his future.
Tatianna put her hands down on the desk, lowering herself to eye level. He watched her, blowing smoke at her. He wondered if she knew he could see down her shirt. And then knew she knew. She was doing it on purpose.
“You thought to blackmail my father, but you screwed yourself in the process. You are–” She plucked the cigarette between his fingers and took a deep drag. “—Impulsive.”
Yakov snapped to his feet and came around the desk, snatching the cigarette from between her lips and throwing it on the floor while his hand grabbed a fist full of her hair and slammed her mouth to his. The gasp, the smile, the way she melted into him, was everything. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer, dying to have her clothes off and bent over his desk.
He yanked back, panting. The heat in Tatianna’s cheeks and the desire in her eyes relieved him. “How’s that for impulsiveness?”
“I already knew you would do that,” she whispered breathlessly.
A smirk fought against his lips. “Did you? How?”
“You asked me to marry you. After you already got what you wanted. You pursued me even when it would ruin Fedor and my father’s cooperation. You were willing to risk it.”
Her fingertips graced the side of his face, and he nearly leaned into it. Her touch eased the ache in his chest like nothing else. He hated her for it, and yet it only made him love her more. “Big risk.” Yakov kept his hands on her hips, keeping her close. “What if I hadn’t kissed you?”
“I would have destroyed your kingdom.”
He chuckled into her lips. He loved the fire in her. Yakov never wanted to smother it, only to intensify her strength. “I almost want you to try.” He kissed her again. For minutes, they held onto each other, healing the damage between them. Forgiveness from her compared only to the forgiveness of God. He never knew he needed it, but she reached parts of him no one else could. She had become his greatest weakness.
“What about Fedor? You can’t marry him.”
“OH?” Tatianna grinned against his cheek. “Then let’s get all we can out of him before the big day.”
Yakov smirked. “You will make a perfect Morozov.”
Available in Janurary— the 2nd book in the Morozov Mafia Series— Embracing the Dark Side