Chapter 24
DARIUS
Tears ran down her cheeks as I placed the diamond collar back around her neck.
I expected her to fight, to beg, to plead, to do something other than accept this weapon around her delicate throat.
She didn’t do any of that. She just silently wept as I clicked the fob that turned on the red blinking light and the GPS tracker.
Something twisted in my gut, but I ignored it.
She was only ever supposed to be a pawn, the means to her mother’s compliance, nothing more.
She was nothing more.
But if that were true, why did her silence twist the knife in my gut far more than her arguing or her begging ever could? Her quietness broke through every wall I had built around myself.
There were so many questions circling in my head.
Was what I was doing to her worse than what her mother did?
Why wasn’t she fighting me?
Had our night together broken something inside of her?
These questions swarmed in my head, but I refused to let them show on my face. I refused to let anything show on my face. Doubt was weakness. I told myself it was because I wasn’t feeling anything. I wore that mask not to hide my emotions but because I didn’t have emotions.
Another lie.
Lying to myself was a new habit I needed to shake. Really, it was because I didn’t want to let her know that this was hurting me too, because there was nothing I could do to change it. I would not give her that false hope.
Not after we had that night together, not after the sex that somehow felt like more than sex.
And not after having dressed her in one of my T-shirts and a pair of my lounge pants.
That small softness, and my reaction to the way she looked in my clothes, had already cost me more than I liked.
I couldn’t afford to let any of it show.
The worst thing I could do was give this woman some semblance of security or the idea that she had some power over me. I did not tolerate weaknesses, so I could not let her think she was mine.
Keeping my expression completely neutral, forcing my grip to be steady, I grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around to face me. Lifting the collar of the shirt and letting the diamonds fall beneath it.
“Now, go home and live your life. Do nothing out of the ordinary. Behave, and this will all be over soon. And remember, maya soloveyka, I am watching, and if you try anything, I’ll know.”
She met my eyes for a minute, and I thought she might finally tell me everything she was holding back, but she just nodded and turned on her heel and left.
Without a single word, she just left.
That was exactly what I always wanted a woman to do after a night of sex with no strings, no expectations. So why did this leave a hollow feeling in my chest?
As soon as the door closed, I turned and went back into the bedroom. Her dress was still draped over a chair.
The air still held warmth from her presence, and it clung to me like a curse.
On an impulse that I didn’t understand, I picked up the silky fabric, running it between my fingers and then lifted it to my face to breathe in deeply.
She didn’t have it on long enough for the fibers to absorb the scent from her skin, but it still carried her perfume, the silky-sweet smell of apples and dark flowers.
I pulled it away from my face, disgusted with my own twisted sentimental bullshit.
It was just a dress, and she was just a girl.
Instead of hanging it up on its own rack, I put it with my suits. Hidden but kept close. Pathetic.
Before I could figure out why I hung it there, or yank it back out like it burned me, there was a loud banging on my door.
For a fraction of a second, my heart beat faster, and I wondered if it was her. A dangerous hope.
Kostya barged in, directing a few of the hotel staff who pushed Queen Mary carts.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I asked my nephew, already irritated that he caught me off-balance.
“Breakfast,” he said, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Don’t you know this is the most important meal of the entire day?”
“According to whom?”
“Americans, and my wife, so we’re going to eat.”
“I’m not hungry,” I said, hoping that would be enough for him to leave.
“Fine, I don’t care,” he shrugged. “We’ll sit down at the table and you can watch me eat.”
“Is there anything else?” one of the hotel staff asked, looking between me and Kostya.
“No, thank you. That’ll be all.”
As soon as the door closed, I turned back to my nephew, who was already picking through the massive spread of food.
“And how many people are coming to this breakfast?” I asked as I took in a tray on the first cart.
It had a full caviar service, both Beluga and Astoria tins on crushed ice with bellinis, chopped egg, shallots, crème fra?che, and toast points surrounding it.
Next to it was a smoked fish platter, featuring sturgeon gravlax and sablefish, accompanied by lemon wedges and dill.
I had to admit, the spread was impressive enough to almost distract me.
“Just us,” Kostya said. “I couldn’t decide if I wanted the Russian or the American breakfast, and I know you well enough that I had better have coffee with me.”
He gestured to the third cart, which had a full coffee service.
The smell hitting me like a jolt, I went straight there and poured myself a large cup of black coffee.
I took a fortifying sip then walked right past the second cart that held the American breakfast of steak, eggs, roasted potatoes, orange juice, and a plethora of pastries and headed back to the Russian breakfast, where I begrudgingly made myself a plate of caviar and fish.
If breakfast was supposed to be the most important meal of the day, it should be full of protein, not carbs. Fuel to keep a man sharp.
“And since when did you start eating like this?” I asked. “I seem to remember you being very much on the food is fuel and nothing more mindset.”
“Marina,” he said with a wide grin. “Before her, I lived to work. She has shown me the beauty of working to live, and all the pleasures I was missing out on.”
“Please do not start talking about your sex life,” I begged, taking a seat at the head of the same table where I sat with Anna last night.
“I was talking about food and art, but she does this thing with her tongue, and I have to tell you, Uncle—" He cut off his words to duck when I threw a fork at his head.
“And is her new ‘work to live’ philosophy what I have to thank for your decreased productivity?”
He just laughed and loaded his plate up with a little bit of everything. When he finally took his seat, I took a long sip of my coffee and waited for him to start.
“So, why are you really here, Uncle?” Kostya asked before sinking his teeth into a blini topped with caviar.
He ate like a man without worries, but he watched me like a man who understood there was a storm brewing.
“I’m assuming your brothers or your cousins have filled you in?”
Kostya shook his head. “There’s what they said, and then there’s what they think, and then there’s what I think. I want to know which is right.”
“I’m here because the bottom line has been suffering, and I’m going to set it straight. Both Artem and Gregor have been distracted.”
“See, that’s what they said you said, and they think you’re here because you just want to put them back in line. That it’s some type of power play.”
“And what do you think, Nephew?” I asked before taking another deep sip of my coffee.
“I think you’re bored in London because it’s cold and dreary and there’s really not that much to do. I think you’re here to cause a little chaos, and because deep down you miss us.”
I cocked an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, so it’s mostly because you want to cause a little chaos and rattle some cages.”
“And why would I do that, Nephew?” I asked without confirming or denying anything.
Kostya gave me a wide, shit-eating grin. “Because Artem and Gregor have been at each other’s throats since Artem got here. And they’ve both been trying to lead the family together but refusing to work together.”
“And this concerns me, why?”
“Because now they are united, in a way they’ve never been before.” He gave me a long look, setting his fork down for a moment. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, am I right?”
I hid my grin behind my coffee cup, masking satisfaction like it was another weapon. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. If Artem and Gregor can’t get their shit together, then I’m just going to have to get it together for them.”
“You know, some would argue that the responsible and smart thing to do would be just to talk to them and tell them to get their heads out of their asses.”
I snorted a laugh, just picturing how that conversation would go. “Both Artem and Gregor are too fucking full of themselves and too goddamn stubborn to ever do what they are told. So are you, and so are Damien and Roman.”
“Not Pavel?”
“Pavel is the only one of you who has more common sense than arrogance,” I said. “But think about it. Have you ever told your brother to do something?”
“Yes,” he answered.
I stabbed another piece of fish with my fork and pointed it at him. “How did that work out for you?” I popped the fish in my mouth, enjoying the smoky, subtle flavors as Kostya thought it over.
“I see your point, but you had no interest in running this side of the operations of the family before.”
“And I still don’t,” I said. “Our family works because we have two distinct pillars: the businesses that survive in the light, and the ones that thrive in the darkness. If one arm isn’t thriving, then the other arm can’t survive. I’m simply here to make sure the balance is maintained.”
“And to do that, you need to kidnap a senator’s daughter and put a bomb around her neck? That seems a tad...dramatic.”
“It’s only dramatic if it goes off,” I said.
“Which can never happen, because the technology doesn’t exist,” Kostya said, leaning back in his chair before popping a piece of greasy bacon in his mouth and groaning.
“Do you want me to leave you and the bacon alone?”
“Don’t change the subject,” Kostya retorted. His eyes sharpened, playful tone slipping for a moment. “Why the girl? What did she do?”
“Nothing,” I said, wanting to get off the subject of Anna as quickly as fucking possible. “It’s her mother, and how none of you have kept her in line.”
“Okay, so that would explain the kidnapping, but what about the necklace? And I’ve heard that you’ve had her here overnight?
Damian even said that you carried her out of the Kennedy Center when she was upset.
Artem mentioned you put yourself between the senator and her daughter.
That you were protecting the girl. Now correct me if I’m wrong, Uncle, but don’t you usually want to put the bomb closest to the target? ”
“As you pointed out, the explosives don’t work.” I didn’t like him asking me about Anna, and I certainly did not need my hypocrisy pointed out to me. The table felt suddenly too small.
Kostya gave a low hum in the back of his throat before piling some scrambled eggs and caviar on a bellini and then sprinkling it with hash browns. I wasn’t sure what he was doing, but I was pretty sure it was a culinary sin.
“So what went wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing has gone wrong,” I said. “The vote is tomorrow, and I reminded the senator last night exactly why she should vote the way we paid her to.”
“Right, but you left the Kennedy Center last night with a crying woman in your arms. From what I’ve heard, she didn’t go home until this morning. I’ve never known you to mix business and pleasure before.”
“Are you watching me, Nephew?”
A smile curled Kostya’s lips as he lifted his own cup of coffee.
“You come back with no warning after I haven’t seen you in years, and you’re stirring the shit for the sake of stirring the shit.
Of course, I’m watching you. This is going to either blow up spectacularly or be one of the most entertaining things I’ve ever seen. ”
“Nothing is going wrong. Everything’s right on track as I planned,” I said as I reached for a piece of the bacon. “I am in control.”
Control was the only thing that kept me from drowning.
“So tell me about the girl.”
“No.” It was a one-word answer. I did not owe him any explanation.
Kostya just laughed, as if that was the answer he was expecting.
“Okay, I’ll let it go for now.”
“You will let it go entirely, because there is nothing there.” The words sounded false even to my own ears.
“A brief word to the wise, Uncle. Be careful.”
I scoffed.
“You think that you’re running the board.
That you’ve got Gregor and Artem right where you need them, and maybe you do.
You see this girl as just a little pawn.
Her only purpose being to threaten the queen into doing your bidding.
And maybe she is. Maybe I’m wrong and everything’s exactly as it should be.
But be careful that the game doesn’t start controlling you. ”
His warning lingered like a hand on my shoulder I couldn’t shrug off.
When did my nephew become so observant? It had to be his wife’s doing.
The vote was tomorrow. After that, I planned on going back to London, and none of this would matter.
It had to stop mattering.