Chapter 8 - Anoushka
The car's engine purrs beneath me, and I find myself utterly confused. Half an hour ago, I was in my office alone. Five minutes ago, Nikolai was all up in Maximus’s face. And now? We’re barreling down the road.
I turn to face Nikolai, trying to think before I speak, but seeing him glower as he drives only makes me angry. What right does he have to look upset when he completely ruined my day? "What were you thinking, showing up at my office like that? You can't just barge into my life and take over!"
Nikolai doesn't even flinch; his gaze remains fixed on the road ahead. His hands grip the steering wheel with confidence. "I was just checking in on my wife," he says nonchalantly. “And am I glad I did.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I seethe.
“That guy, Maximus. I don’t know if you noticed, Anoushka, but he’s clearly in love with you.”
“He is NOT!” I shriek, finding the idea preposterous.
“Did you see how he tried to demean our marriage?”
“He’s my friend,” I tell him. “He was truly just looking out for me. He knows about how this marriage came to be. What do you expect him to do? Be happy and send us a wedding gift?”
“No. A true friend would advise caution and thought before jumping to conclusions. That guy?” Nikolai scoffs. “He’s living in his own head. I’m simply concerned that you can’t see him for who he is.”
“Concerned?” I fume, my frustration bubbling over. "You embarrassed me in front of my colleagues! My secretary? Telling her to call me Mrs. Orlov? What the hell was that? And then, the way you forced me out of the office with Maximus watching? That's not concern, that's domination!”
Nikolai’s jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he processes my words. His grip on the steering wheel tightens before he turns to face me with a smoldering gaze. “I’m not a perfect man, Anoushka. Nor am I saying my behavior was up to the mark. But weeks of trying to get through to you felt exhausting, and I suppose it all blew over today. You should know I don’t wish to dominate your life in any manner. However, I do wish to know what’s going on in it.”
I roll my eyes, waiting to see if there would be an apology in there. I realize now that at this point in our relationship, this is as close to an apology as I’d be getting from Nikolai. Oh well, something is better than nothing, and given his explanation, perhaps I need to do some thinking as well. I say nothing but look ahead, one question still brimming in my mind.
“So, how did you find me anyway?”
Here, I notice his hand on the wheel clench tighter, but he says nothing.
“Nikolai?”
He lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze flickering to me briefly before returning to the road. “I have my ways, Anoushka.”
I raise an eyebrow, skepticism evident in my expression. “Your ways?”
He doesn’t respond, the tension between us thickening in the air. As we turn right, I look back through the rearview mirror and lurch to face him, instinctively reaching out to touch his hand, forgetting all about the unanswered question.
“Home’s that way,” I tell him, pointing back and left.
“We’re not going home,” he says cryptically, giving no other explanation.
“Of course, we aren’t,” I mumble under my breath. “Kidnapping me, are you?”
“Doubt anyone would pay ransom to have you back,” he teases back immediately. I shake my head in disbelief, his audacity actually managing to amuse me. I can't help but admire how easily he can switch from serious and brooding to light-hearted and charming. It's frustrating, really, how he can be so infuriating yet so irresistible at the same time.
“By the time I’m done with you,” I quip back, “you’d be paying someone to have me off your hands.”
Here, he chuckles, a deep and rich sound that literally makes me shiver and want to hear it again. The vehicle glides smoothly into a parking space near a decrepit-looking building that stands out amidst the hustle and bustle of the city. I peer up at the sign that reads "La Fantasia" in intricate golden lettering, my confusion growing. What are we doing here?
I stare at it in disbelief, my eyebrows knitting together in disapproval. "You've got to be kidding me, Nikolai," I say, my voice dripping with disdain. "I have no interest in entering some seedy gentlemen's club."
"Seedy?" he chuckles. "Hardly. Trust me, you'll change your mind once we're inside."
I cross my arms, determined to stand my ground. "I don't care how fancy it looks. I don't belong in places like this. Even if you own it."
Nikolai simply smirks and gets out of the car, opening my door before I can protest further. He extends his hand toward me, an unspoken demand for my cooperation. Reluctantly, I place my hand in his, feeling the strength that lies in his grip as he offers a firm grip.
"Let me show you what La Fantasia is really about," he says, guiding me into the club. “After all, it is your husband’s business.”
I literally have no interest, but given how he’s clearly established today is going to be one of those days when he calls all the shots, I decide to let him have this. Maybe then, he’d get it out of the system and leave me alone!
At the entrance, a guard salutes Nikolai, and he puts a hundred-dollar bill in his hand. I walk past, noticing the staff parting to let him through. The place smells like expensive champagne and flowers. At the centerstage, a beautiful wooden stage rests elevated above the ground. Gorgeous suede and high-backed velvet sofas with rattan chairs make for cozy corners. A floor-to-ceiling bar holds hundreds of rare bottles, and in the corner, a drum set glistens in the dim light. All around, large vases hold fresh flowers, and the walls are adorned with beautiful art of times bygone.
Okay. It’s actually really quaint and I’ll admit, I’m impressed by the elegant atmosphere. There's none of the sleaziness I expected from such an establishment. Instead, soft jazz music plays in the background while some patrons engage in quiet conversations over drinks—gentlemen dressed in suits and women in beautiful, elegant designer dresses. The dim lighting creates a sense of intimacy, and the décor exudes sophistication.
My preconceived notions crumble as I take in the scene before me. This isn't the sordid den of iniquity I imagined—it's something else entirely. And yet, I can't shake the feeling of unease, wondering why Nikolai brought me here.
"Surprised?" he asks, his voice low and husky in my ear.
"A little," I admit, trying to hide the fact that I'm actually impressed by what I see.
"Good," he says, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Now come with me; there's something I want to show you."
My curiosity piqued, I follow him deeper into La Fantasia, unsure of what awaits me. We go up a staircase, and at the landing, he gently puts his hand on my small back, igniting a spark of electricity that makes me jerk slightly. For a second, we both just stand there, with him looking down at me, and I blush at the notion that he might have realized how his touch makes me feel. Then, he clears his throat. “This way.” He guides me down the hall to a door to our right.
"Here we are," he announces, opening a door and gesturing for me to enter. The room before me is an office, its large windows offering a perfect view of La Fantasia below. Nikolai closes the door behind us.
"Is this your office?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yes," he replies, moving to stand behind an imposing desk. "It's where I oversee the day-to-day operations of La Fantasia and all her sister chains."
“How many do you have?”
“There are 34 La Fantasia outlets across the world—London, Paris, Dubai, Singapore, Hong Kong, Melbourne, and so forth. We’re expanding to Africa soon. Then, I have a few more chains.”
“You do?” I raise my eyebrows, surprised. I know it can’t be easy handling clubs like this across the world, dealing with people day in and out while still maintaining one’s cool.
“I do. It’s challenging work. Keeping track of our financials, managing staff, ensuring the safety of our guests for over 150 clubs,” he explains, his expression serious as he pours us both a drink. “Sometimes, I feel like I could use an extra pair of hands on deck.”
Here, he walks over to my side and hands me a glass. Our fingers graze as I take the glass, but he holds on to it, his fingers touching mine, his gaze penetrating my very soul as he speaks to hold my attention. ”Some of my siblings do help out, but they’re busy with passion projects of their own, and when dealing with revenue as large as ours… it’s only family I can trust.”
When he says family, he gently grazes his finger over mine before releasing the glass. I stand there, dumbfounded, unable to move.
I look at him, feeling a mix of surprise and confusion at his words. Does he mean… me ? Is he actually suggesting that I should be the one to help him manage this empire of clubs? The idea seems absurd! Perhaps I’m mistaken. I glance around the office, taking it all in and processing what he could have meant.
Nikolai watches me carefully, his gaze intense as if trying to gauge my reaction. "I understand that this is a lot to take in," he begins, his voice softer than usual. "But you have a sharp mind, Anoushka. You're more than capable of learning the ropes and helping me with this side of our life together."
"What are you suggesting exactly?" I stammer, taken aback by his sudden declaration.
Nikolai sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I know that our marriage was arranged, and that we have our differences on how this marriage should proceed. But I did mean it when I said that we have marital duties which must be fulfilled. You’re a part of this family now, Anoushka. I know you’re bright. Boris is no fool. If he has you working in his office, it’s because he knows you’re worth something. Now, I need you to come here and work with me.”
His sincerity catches me off guard, and I find myself struggling to suppress the unexpected emotions welling up inside me. My thoughts race, trying to weigh the potential consequences against the benefits. If I do this, he would consider me fulfilling a marital responsibility, and hopefully it would be enough for now. At the same time, that would mean I’d have to spend a lot more time with him. And so far, from what little time we’ve spent together, it’s been tough to keep our hands to ourselves. The prospect of being more entwined with him both excites and terrifies me.
I glance out the window, watching the patrons below as they enjoy their evening.
Nikolai leans against his desk, his eyes never leaving mine as he continues to explain the inner workings of La Fantasia.
"Each night, we offer a variety of entertainment for our guests—live music, dancing, even some more… intimate performances ." The way he says it, sending smoldering looks my way, sends an involuntary shudder through me, and I can't help but glance at his lips as he speaks. They're full, tempting, and dangerously close, reminding me of that kiss in the office hallway.
"Of course," he adds, "we also pride ourselves on providing top-notch service and maintaining a high level of discretion for our clientele. Overall, it can be quite fun managing this place."
I swallow hard, trying to focus on what he's saying rather than how much I want to taste those lips again. The more he talks, the more I realize just how difficult it’s going to be to work with him.
"Anoushka," he murmurs, taking a step closer, his eyes on my lips. I watch with a roaring heart as he clenches his jaw, almost like he’s holding back from smashing his lips against mine.
No. This is too much change for me to handle. First, we get married. Then, I move to his house. He shows up in my office, lets people know I’m Mrs. Orlov, and kisses me. Now, he wants me to work with him? One more concession from my end, and something tells me I’ll be putty in his hands. All my carefully laid plans would be thrown right out of the window and I might even find myself waking in his bed.
I need to take a step back. Distance. Distance is what I need.
"Nikolai," I stammer, my heartbeat quickening as he closes the gap between us, and I immediately take a step back. "It's just… a lot to process."
A flash of disappointment crosses his face.
"I understand," he says, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair away from my face. His touch is electric, sending a jolt of desire straight through me.
"Maybe we should talk about this later," I suggest, desperate to put some space between us. "I need some time to think."
"Very well," he replies, his eyes darkening with a mixture of frustration and longing. "I understand today’s been a long day. Let me get you home.”
"Thank you," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.