28. Natasha
28
NATASHA
I ’ve been dreading this moment since I slipped back into our family penthouse in the early hours of the morning. But it’s time. I can’t put it off any longer. I need to speak with my father. And he’s not going to like what I have to say.
Steeling my resolve, I knock on his office door and wait with bated breath for a response.
“Come in,” he calls, his voice booming through the thick wood and jolting me like an electric shock.
Inhaling deeply to steady myself, I obey, turning the handle. I step quietly inside before closing the door behind me once more. His workspace is richly decorated with hunter-green paint and dark leather seats. It feels tranquil and a bit reminiscent of a hunting lodge, though he’s never gone foxhunting like the paintings would imply.
Silence sits heavily between us as he assesses me carefully from behind his desk.
He interlocks his fingers before pressing his thumbs to his lips. His sharp blue eyes cut right to the heart of it, as if he can read the guilt radiating off me in waves. “I take it last night was another failed attempt,” he observes, the disappointment plain in his tone.
Biting my lip, I nod and sink into the chair across from him. “How’d you know?”
“It’s written all over your face, lapochka ,” he says. “You think I don’t know my own daughter well enough to see when she’s disappointed?”
Disappointed, that’s an interesting take on my emotions, though it’s perfectly justified in my father’s case. And surprisingly, I find he’s not as far off the mark as I would have guessed.
Because I am disappointed in myself. Disappointed that I couldn’t end Killian from the start. Disappointed that I’ve failed my father so many times I’ve lost count. Disappointed that I will continue to fail him indefinitely because, after last night, it’s clear to me that my feelings for Killian have gotten completely out of hand.
They’re getting in the way of following through with what my father’s asked.
I’ve let my emotions run away with me.
And now, I’m useless to my family—the last thing I ever wanted to be.
Which is why I’ve come in the hopes of finding an alternative solution.
I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m incapable of killing the leader of the Irish Kings. In truth, I’m dangerously close to falling in love with him. Even if that’s the last thing that I want. But it’s time to face facts and come up with a solution to my inadequacy.
“Papa, I think it’s time we discuss a new plan of action,” I say carefully, my stomach quivering with nerves.
“Oh?” He smiles, his eyes brightening. “Tatiana’s usually the one coming to me with strategies, but if you have an idea, I’m all ears. What did you have in mind?” He clasps his hands, resting them on his desk as he gives me his undivided attention.
“Well, I’ve thought about it a lot, and maybe…I don’t know, I just wonder if it might not make more sense to actually consider an alliance with the Kings. They’re a powerful family and clearly capable of making our lives hell if they want. An alliance would strengthen our position overall and put an end to all the shenanigans Killian has been throwing our way. Plus, if Killian is asking for my hand in marriage, that means he’s not after Tatiana’s inheritance, which is what we were worried about to begin with…”
My voice tapers off as my father’s expression shifts from keen interest to brooding disapproval. But he doesn’t flat-out reject my idea, which means he must be considering it.
“It is odd that he chose to speak with you last night and didn’t even bother talking to Tatiana. If his goal is power, he took an unusual approach—rather ineffective, really, though I wouldn’t credit the Irishman with being exceptionally smart.”
His lips twitch with amusement, but I know that as much as he likes to pretend Killian is a rash idiot who’s easily outsmarted, my father doesn’t take him lightly. Killian has proven a more-than-worthy opponent since he rose to power.
But humor is a good sign. My heart skips a beat at the possibility that Papa might not be completely against a marriage alliance. Then, my feelings for Killian wouldn’t be such a betrayal to my family. In truth, they might help us rather than being a source of conflict.
My flicker of hope is short-lived, however, as his scowl returns in full force. “I just don’t trust the Kings, lapochka . Especially their leader. That man has been nothing but a thorn in my side, and clearly, he’s making a grab for power. He’s done nothing but reinforce that plan since the charity ball. Have you forgotten what he said that night?”
My heart sinks, and I fight back a fresh wave of disappointment. “No.”
But while my father looks relieved by my concession, I’m not done yet.
“Look, I get where you’re coming from, Papa,” I say cautiously, tiptoeing into my next point. Because I don’t want to reveal that I know far more about Killian than I should. “But even if Killian can be an abrasive person—and I’ll admit he seems to enjoy pushing people’s buttons—he hasn’t actually attempted to claim our territory, has he? As far as I can tell, he’s just being a nuisance.”
Surprise registers in my father’s eyes, as if it’s the first time anyone’s pointed that out.
“Maybe I’m just not privy to all the details,” I continue, “so correct me if I’m wrong, but has he caused any lasting damage to our operation or men?”
Once again, he takes time to consider my words, and in the silence, hope dares to flicker inside me. But after a lengthy pause, my father shakes his head. His eyes darken as he frowns.
“It doesn’t matter what his intentions are,” he growls. “Killian isn’t worthy of you regardless.”
“Papa—” I object, but he cuts me off.
“No man is, lapochka , but especially not that crass, pompous Irishman. He insulted our family publicly—at your mother’s charity event, no less! He disrespected you and your sister, threatened ruin upon our family, and suggested that I’m too old and feeble to protect you for much longer. He’s done nothing to ingratiate himself since then, and he had the audacity to waltz into our home last night and spout the same nonsense about marrying one of you. I won’t have it.”
My heart plummets, and I swallow back tears as my father steamrolls into another fiery rage.
“No, Natasha, if you truly want to serve your family, you’ll kill the bastard so we can be done with him. I don’t care how good his security is or how many times you have to go back. I want him dead. Besides, the world needs a reminder of what happens when you mess with the Sokolovs. He’s trampled on our good name long enough.”
The disappointment that crashes through me is unlike anything I’ve felt before, and I fight to keep the emotion from my face as I rise. “Very well, Papa,” I murmur.
And I flee before I give it all away.