Chapter 8 - Katerina
“Did you have plans today?” Yulian asks, setting a mug of tea down on my bedside table while I blink at him in sleepy confusion.
“Um,” I grumble, rubbing my eyes, trying to wake up. “Um, no, I didn’t. Did you make me tea?” I ask in confusion.
“Yes, just the way you like it. Do you want to come out with me?”
“What?”
“Get dressed. Come down when you’re ready. I’ll be waiting.”
He doesn’t wait for me to reply. He leaves the room, and I wonder what he’s up to and where he’s set on taking me.
Is his plan finally coming together? Whatever he originally kidnapped me for, is it happening today? Am I in danger? Is he done with me?
Panic floods me as I sit up, and my fingers knot in the edges of the blankets.
Calm down, Kat. He didn’t make you tea, so he can take you out and bury you somewhere.
I pick up the tea and sip it. He gets it perfect every time.
I don’t even know how he knows how I like my tea. He just got it right.
Observation? A good guess?
I feel like there’s so much I don’t know about him, but I’m scared to let myself think about that stuff, because what I should be thinking about is going home.
It doesn’t take me long to get ready. I’m spurred on by the nervous tension knotting my stomach, worried about what this day has in store.
When I come downstairs, Yulian is sitting in the living room, reading the news on his phone.
He looks relaxed. Not how someone who is about to murder me should look.
Not that I would know what that looks like, but I don’t think this is it.
“I’m ready,” I smile tightly.
“Great, let’s get going.” Yulian stands and heads for the front door. I follow awkwardly behind.
“Where are we going?” I ask, watching him open the passenger door for me.
“Get in, don’t worry, you’ll like it,” he grins at me.
“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” I sigh, ducking my head down and climbing into the car.
“I didn’t realize you needed reassurance. Are you worried I’m up to no good?” His grin is wider now. Somehow, his amusement puts me at ease a little. Joking around. Playful. Again, not exactly the demeanor of someone intent on killing me.
All the way there, he still doesn’t tell me where we’re going, and it’s only when he parks outside a massive mall that he turns to me and says, “Does it look like a place you should be worried to go to?”
He’s being very cheeky now.
I throw him a glare, with my nose scrunched and a petty look on my face. “Here,” he smiles, handing me a black credit card.
“I don’t understand.”
“We’re going shopping. I thought it would be easier if you just held on to my card.”
He pushes his door open and walks around to open mine for me, holding out his hand like a gentleman.
“Shopping?” I giggle, shaking my head. And I’ve been anxious that he was taking me to a quiet place to bury me in cement or something. Maybe I’ve seen too many movies.
“Yes, girls love shopping. Fashion stuff. Clothes. Accessories. Whatever you want. There’s no limit on the credit card.” He winks at me and throws me a devilish smile that makes my heart flip over.
“Why, though?” I ask, suddenly skeptical again.
“Why what?”
“Shopping.”
“Because the only clothes you have at the mansion are the clothes I got for you when you first arrived, and it’s not very much, and it’s not stuff you got to choose yourself.”
“Oh,” I mutter, staring at the shiny black card in my hand. I slip it into my pocket and raise my brows. Alright. Shopping, then.
Butterflies swarm in my stomach as we walk into the mall.
It’s massive, maybe four stories high, packed wall to wall with high-fashion stores that I would never have been able to shop at before.
Even with all the money my brother has, he never lets me just go wild on a shopping spree.
He was set on playing it safe until he was established, whenever that was going to be.
Yulian doesn’t talk much as I roam the stores and select beautiful items. He stays close, though, very close, reaching out to me and touching me often.
Almost stalkerish and weird. At first, it made me uncomfortable, because I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but then I realized he’s actually just keeping an eye out for enemies or danger. He’s keeping me safe.
Then I become anxious in a different way. Every time he touches me, it sends sparks through my body. A pull of warmth. A bolt of electricity.
Every brush of his hand or his arm drags my attention deeper into him.
“What about a red dress?” he suggests, gesturing towards a gorgeous velvet red gown.
“Where in the world would I wear that?” I laugh.
“Making cupcakes in the kitchen,” he grins. “You can wear anything anywhere, Katerina.”
I pick up the red dress to try it on, then spot a gorgeous black jacket that I think would look incredible on Yulian. “You’re trying this on,” I demand, slinging it over my arm.
“We’re not here shopping for me,” he protests.
“I’m pretty sure you said whatever you want, and I want to see you in this,” I say with sass.
He shakes his head, but his smile is gorgeous. “Fine, what the lady wants, the lady gets.”
“In that case, the lady would like to stop and choose a few suits for you,” I grin triumphantly.
He grumbles and rolls his eyes.
But a little while later, he’s standing with his legs spread and his arms out at his sides while a tailor measures him for a suit I’ve chosen. I step forward and brush my hand over his side. “I think this can be taken in a bit?” I say, but as soon as my fingers touch him, my body sparks to life.
I bite my lip and quickly step back, my cheeks flushing with heat.
“Let’s put the dark gray one on, and we’ll get that one fitted too,” the tailor says, nodding in approval as he steps back to admire his work.
Yulian steps into the dressing room to change, and I sit quietly wondering why the hell my body is on its own mission to be so attracted to him all the time.
When he steps out of the dressing room in the storm-gray suit, my breath catches in the back of my throat, and I stare way too hard.
He looks fucking incredible.
The suit hardly needs any adjustments. It’s tight over his body in the most beautiful way. His broad shoulders and thick arms are hugged by the dark fabric, accentuating his muscular shape.
“Do you like it?” he asks, a hint of amusement in his tone.
I clear my throat and nod. “Yes, it’s great. Um. Yes,” I stammer.
“Do you think it can come in a bit down the inner seam here?” he asks, turning to face the mirror.
I stand up and walk over to him. Without thinking, I kneel in front of him to look at the inner seam, tugging at it with my fingers to see how much extra fabric is there.
But then, in a moment of sheer horror, I realize my face is level with the bulge of his cock, my hand sitting on his inner thigh just below it, and my cheeks are turning blazing hot, neon red as I lift my gaze to see him looking down at me with intense hunger in his eyes.
I fall over, landing right on my ass, in my attempt to scramble away in too much of a hurry.
Yulian quickly leans down to help me up and ends up headbutting me because I’m already trying to stand up.
It’s a mess of apologies, muttered embarrassment and fumbling. And it ends with me in his arms, held against his chest, and his face hovering just above mine. His lips inches from mine. His breath hot against my skin. His heart racing against my chest.
For a few seconds, we stare at each other, lost and silent. Then I giggle the most awkward, nervous sound as I hurriedly step away from him again, this time staying on my feet.
“Sorry,” I mutter again.
“It’s okay, are you alright?” he asks, pushing his fingers through his dark hair.
“Yep, all good. Um, you should get that suit. It looks incredible on you,” I blurt out, then turn away and walk out of the store because I need to breathe air that doesn’t smell like him.
***
We carry on shopping until late in the afternoon, stopping for a lovely lunch at a restaurant in the mall, enjoying a glass of wine and a seafood platter soaked in lemon butter. It’s after four when I declare that I can’t possibly shop anymore or fit anything else into the closet at his place.
“We can build you another closet, Katerina. A whole room, turned into a walk-in closet,” he muses, placing his hand on my lower back as he leads me out of the mall towards the car.
For the hundredth time today, my body spikes with desire, and I try really hard to ignore it, but it’s getting more difficult each time.
What an odd thing to say, to suggest building me a walk-in closet in a place I don’t even live. Well, not permanently, anyway. I brush it off as a joke, even though the remark sits in the back of my mind, churning in a weird way.
Back in the car, I’m surprised when he doesn’t turn back in the direction of home.
“Where are we going?” I ask, leaning towards the window, trying to figure out what might lie ahead of us.
“I have a surprise for you,” he grins. That same gorgeous grin that makes my heart flutter wildly.
“I thought the shopping was the surprise. What other surprise have you got for me?”
“If I tell you, it will hardly be a surprise,” he laughs.
The happy sound of his rumbling laughter rolls over me, making me grin and knit my brows at him.
“What are you up to, Yulian?” I ask, curious and nervous again.
“It’s something you’ll love, don’t worry.”
“I am worried. How could you possibly know what I love?”
“I know enough about you to figure some things out, Kat,” he says with confidence, and it makes me even more curious. What does he really know about me? I haven’t exactly volunteered a bunch of information about myself.
We drive through the city, and the annoyance of not knowing grows. “What is it connected to? Like what type of thing is it?” I ask, trying to push for a clue.
His laughter is louder this time. “It’s connected to…you.”
The answer makes me roll my eyes. When I glance at him, he’s clearly enjoying this.
I keep peppering him with questions, but the answers are all vague and don’t get me any closer to finding out what he’s up to.
“You can’t win me over with surprises, you know. You’re still my kidnapper. A surprise isn’t going to get you in my good graces,” I remark, watching his eyes glimmer as though he knows something I don’t.
“We’ll see about that.”
“I assure you, it won’t work,” I huff, annoyed at his confidence.
Finally, he brings the car to a stop, except—we are right outside another mall.
“A mall? Again?” I ask, knitting my brows.
“This is a more exclusive mall,” he says, pushing his door open.
“Yulian, I really don’t need any more clothes, or accessories, or anything,” I argue, feeling a little disappointed that the surprise was just more shopping. With the way he was teasing me and dragging out the suspense, I was expecting something more creative.
“We aren’t here to shop,” he says, gesturing for me to follow him.
“Oh.” My curiously is piqued again.
I follow Yulian into the mall. He’s right. It’s really exclusive. The high-end boutiques have only two or three pieces on display in each window. The stores are more like workshops and studios, where custom pieces are created instead of bulk-made fashion items. These are extreme luxury places.
My curiosity is bubbling over when he leads me to the door of a boutique that looks like it’s under renovation.
He slips a key into the lock. It clicks, and he pushes it open, flicking the lights on as he does so.
A gorgeous chandelier floods the space with bright, clean light. A wide oak workbench stretches along one wall, scattered with beautiful fabrics and crisp new notebooks. A paneled wooden wall draws warmth into the room.
There is a pair of golden sewing scissors on the wooden workbench, glimmering in the light.
On the far wall, in a perfectly designed space, is an industrial sewing machine and an overlocker. There are several mannequins stored in the corner and a space to hang patterns.
I brush my fingers over the golden scissors. My heart flutters, remembering what I had to put on hold for my brother. What in the world is going on here? Why does this place look like the studio I designed for my dream workshop? It’s not identical. But it’s so me. It’s so…personalized.
“What is this place?” I ask, almost a whisper.
“This is your workshop, Katerina.” Yulian leans with his hip against the workbench, his eyes tightly pinned to me.
“I…I don’t understand….” My voice is so tight my throat hurts.
He cocks his head to the side, his eyes burning into me as he watches my reaction.
“You will be fully responsible for this place. I am almost done with the renovations, so it’ll be ready for you by the end of the week.
If there’s anything you want changed or added, or removed, just ask.
This is your place. You can design the clothes you want to design, free rein over everything.
I will help you find clients until word-of-mouth spreads, and you can find your own.
This place is yours to do with as you wish. ”
I stare at him in shocked disbelief.
“My own fashion design studio?” I blurt out.
“Correct,” he nods.
“This is…how did you know….” At first, the dream is overwhelmingly tempting, something I’ve desired for so long that my only thought is yes.
Yes. Yes. Yes. But then reality bites down hard.
“I can’t accept this, Yulian. It’s…it’s dangerous,” I sigh, fighting tears as I look around at the most beautiful studio.
My studio. Filled with potential and possibility.
“Yes, you can do this. We’ll create an alias for you.
Your first clients will only be people I trust fully.
No one will know who you are. You’ll be a brand.
An icon. And you’ll be safe. Later on, when and if you choose, you can switch over to your own name.
The point for now is to follow your dream.
The name doesn’t matter. Letting your creative self free is what matters. ”
My mouth has dropped open as I stare at him. Tears are glittering in my eyes. I’m completely overwhelmed with happiness. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. Why him? Why would he do this for me? How did he know? Does he understand how much this means to me?
“Kat?” he says, after a long moment of silence.
“I guess I was wrong,” I giggle, muffled behind a choke of emotion.
“Wrong about what?”
“You did manage to get into my good graces. You did win me over with this surprise.”
Yulian’s entire face lights up. His smile stretches across his cheeks, his dimples deeper than usual, his eyes warm chocolate as they stare at me.
“That’s good to know,” he says, stepping towards me and pulling me into a hug. I don’t stop him. I lean into him and press my cheek against his chest to hide the tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper.