Chapter 19 - Arko
The next morning, I scurried off to my office before Beatrice even made her way outside her bedroom. It wasn’t that I was busy. However, the hurtful things I said still lingered in my mind, and I didn’t want to see her just yet.
I had tossed and turned, unable to find sleep. On one hand, her act of defiance upset me. But on the other hand, once I cooled down, I also understood where she came from.
But some irrational part of me wondered, was it so hard for her to separate what we had from my relationship with her family? Was it so hard for her to trust me to do what was best for my family, including her?
I browsed through the news for the day on my computer, my mind half-registering what I read as I tried to clear my head. I just wanted the fighting between Beatrice and me to stop. I couldn’t care less about the tension with her god-awful brothers.
So couldn’t she, for just a little while, focus on us and not her family?
Even the simple task of reading felt futile. I groaned with frustration and slammed my computer shut. Swiveling on my chair, I reached for the cup of coffee on the trolley to my right when my phone started to ring.
Coffee in hand, I turned back to my desk and froze when I saw who was calling.
Dante Lebedev.
After last night, this couldn’t be good. I took a few settling breaths and put the cup down, preparing for what would be an animus conversation.
“Lebedev,” I said up at last.
“Pavlov. How are…things?”
I frowned, confused as shit. This was as close to asking how I was as Dante Lebedev could, and I didn’t know what to do with this surprising turn of events.
“I’m a little caught up, actually,” I lied through my teeth. “Are you trying to reach Beatrice?”
Just asking that question made me realize how out of control this situation was.
When I took Beatrice, the key was to keep her away from her brothers, to hurt them with something precious, like they hurt me in my business on a daily basis.
But day by day, Beatrice’s happiness had started to feel more important.
Which made all my grand plans seem meaningless and confusing. What was the endgame here again?
I clenched the phone harder, letting my head hit the backrest of my chair.
“I know you’re a busy man,” Dante said, bringing me to attention with the politeness in his tone. “Look, I’ve been thinking.”
I scoffed.
He ignored me.
“Maybe Beatrice was right, you know? She’s struggling with this thing between us,” he sighed.
“That’s for sure.” Even I had to admit that.
“So what if I help you get through to my brothers? If peace is an option, what if I brought it to the table?”
“Now, why would you do that?” I asked skeptically, tapping my fingers against the desk. This felt a little too convenient, like another trick from the Lebedevs to get their sister back. I had no reason to trust Dante. How could I ever forget that he’d claimed the woman promised to me as his wife?
“Let’s just say, I’ve been in your shoes.”
“Sure, let’s just say that,” I snorted, unable to keep the distrust from my voice.
“I mean it, Arko,” Dante said. “My wife and I’ve walked the journey you’re on right now. Last night, when Beatrice left with you, it became clear to me that she wasn’t faking it. This is a hard thing for me to admit,” his voice cracked, “but I think my sister has truly developed affection for you.”
My heart cracked at his words. I closed my eyes, letting them seep in. He wasn’t wrong. Beatrice…she did care about me. And whatever error in judgment I thought she made, I was callous in the things I said to her last night.
“I’m listening,” I said.
“I kidnapped Alisa, too. I know what it’s like to fight families who don’t understand. Let me help you.”
Knowing Caspian Lebedev, I doubted he’d see the situation for what it was. Besides, trusting a Lebedev, even though Dante’s words were true, felt like breathing underwater.
But I saw no other way, and if not having peace bothered Beatrice as much as it did, and if her attempts to make it had only brought on chaos, maybe I needed to give Dante a chance.
“Let me think it over,” I said. “I appreciate you trying.”
Dante went silent, like he couldn’t believe it was that easy. Truth be told, this olive branch wasn’t what I’d expected either.
“That’s fair. You just let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”
***
After that unexpected call ended with Dante, I walked out the door, looking for Beatrice. I had wallowed in self-pity long enough, and Dante’s words stuck in my mind.
It had become clear to her own brother, who hated me with his heart, that she had affection for me. Fueled with rage, I’d failed to recognize that she had been loyal to me the whole time last night, all because she wanted to.
When her brothers stood there, accusing me of brainwashing her, she shut them down and reminded them that I was her husband. I’d never asked for her loyalty, but she gave it to me with her heart all open, and I had crushed her spirit in return.
God, I felt awful.
She wasn’t in her room or in any of the living spaces. I was about to check out the pool and gardens when I crossed Marquez, my head of house security.
“Do you know where Beatrice is?”
“She went out shopping, sir.”
“Oh.” I felt my heart stammer and trip. “Alone?”
“The security went with her,” he said and walked off.
Usually, she told me when she stepped out. And usually, she went with my sisters.
I was surprised to hear about this solo shopping trip, not because she wasn’t allowed to head out or anything like that. By then, I’d realized Beatrice had no plans to escape.
I guess I had hurt her more than I’d realized for her to have left the house without even a goodbye. Wrecked with guilt and regret, I knew I had to make up for the things I said to her last night.
***
Forty-five minutes later, I walked into Bergdorf Goodman toward the Chanel section on the ground floor, where her guards told me I’d find her.
My eyes scanned the faces, looking for Beatrice. There, on the corner to my right, I saw that flash of lovely black locks running down her shoulders. Beatrice had her back to me, and I texted the guards that I’d found her, and they should leave.
I walked over to her, still keeping a distance, the sound of my feet on marble hushed by the din of chatter and laughter all around.
Beatrice was lost in her own little world, and I watched as she rose from the edge of the couch she’d been perched upon, smoothing her skirt out with her hands; the stacked pearl and gold bracelets on her wrists jingling as she did.
God, I thought to myself as the store assistant laid out a selection of handbags, she belongs here.
She wore a delicate emerald-green satin blouse, fully sleeved but cut low enough to be sexy.
It was tucked into a pencil skirt so well-fit and tight, falling an inch or two above her knee, and I knew I wasn’t the only man here pausing at the sight of her.
She tried on a bag or two, and my eyes trailed down to where it fell, right against her curved hips. My mouth went dry, and when my eyes snapped back to her, I saw her shake her head reluctantly, handing back the goods to the assistant.
She walked off toward some jewelry at Van Cleef, and I saw her once again linger half-heartedly over some earrings before walking away.
It was like she wasn’t really here to shop.
This little escapade felt like she was trying to escape something, using shopping as a distraction, and it wasn’t working.
“May I help you, sir?” a soft voice came from my right.
“No, thank you,” I said with a frown, shaking my head, my eyes still on Beatrice.
Beatrice turned just as I heard the clicking of heels fade away, and when her eyes met mine, her lips parted open in surprise. Time stood still, and then she took one step forward, her eyes on me alone, like the crowds before us didn’t exist.
I’d been caught, and to my surprise, she wasn’t furious at being followed. She looked almost…relieved. Fuck. I had a lot to make up for.
I started to walk, and she met me halfway, tilting her neck softly as she gazed up at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I tried looking for you at the house. You weren’t there and I just…
” My voice trailed off. I felt foolish for having misjudged her intentions the previous night, yet there I stood before, saying in so many words that I still expected to know where she was.
I wished I’d had a better opener than that unsaid accusation.
“Oh, right.” She furrowed her brows. “I didn’t think you’d care. I just…needed some air.”
I felt the corners of my lips twitch as I looked around and tried to lighten the mood. “And some retail therapy, apparently.”
“Are you going to yell at me for spending your money now, too?” The hurt and defensiveness in her voice rang clear as day.
“No.” I shook my head and spoke gently. “I was just wondering…are you hungry?”
“What?” She furrowed her brows, confused like she couldn’t have heard me right.
“I was hoping we could have dinner together. That is, if you’d like.” I felt nervous even as I asked.
She looked at me like I’d suggested we fly to the moon. “You want to have dinner with me? Aren’t you mad at me?”
“I said some things I shouldn’t have last night,” I murmured, my eyes locked on hers. “I was so angry, Bea. I wasn’t thinking straight.”
For a moment there, I thought she’d refuse to join me. But then, she sighed and clicked her tongue, breaking out into the smallest of smiles. “Is that an apology I hear, Pavlov?” she teased.
“Did it work?” I smiled down at her, my heart leaping with joy.
“Depends,” she shrugged, pretending to think.
“On what?” I raised my brows, my voice high in a playful pitch. I couldn’t believe this is all it took. A small conversation between us, just showing up with an offer for dinner, and she was willing to put the last night behind us.
“On where you take me to dinner,” she giggled, linking her arm through mine. I looked down at her in surprise, at how easy this had been. I didn’t deserve someone half as good as Beatrice. Somehow, God decided to make me a lucky bastard by sending her my way.
“Oh, you’re going to forgive me for sure,” I teased as we moved. “Just wait until you try the tiramisu.”
“It better be good, Pavlov.” She nudged me playfully on the shoulder as I stood by the door to let her pass first.
The restaurant was just down the street. It was a small Italian place, nothing fancy, but cozy with stellar food. The hostess seated us at a corner table, as private as could be.
We both ordered a glass of wine each and a salad to share. While we sipped the wine and dug into the salad, waiting for our mains to arrive, I felt a sudden urge to tell her what had happened earlier today.
She deserved the truth, the whole entirety of it.
“So…I think you were onto something last night,” I said.
“Oh?” The glass stilled on her lips, then she put it down without even taking a sip.
I twisted the napkin on my lap between my fingers. “Dante called me this morning.”
Her eyes widened, and I saw her shoulders tense. “What was he saying?”
“He offered to help get your other brothers to see reason,” I told her. “He said he understood our situation, given what happened between him and Alisa.”
A small smile played on her lips, and she played with the stem of her glass. “I can’t believe Dante called you.”
“He only did because you got us in a room together, you know?” I admitted.
Her face broke out into a grin. “Can you even imagine what would happen if you all had stayed and heard me out? Hell, we might even have started a joint family venture!”
At this, I laughed. A full, hearty, zesty laugh. Beatrice always did have a way of making the distance between us feel smaller.
“So, anyway,” I continued. “He said he’d be willing to talk to the rest of your brothers on our behalf.”
She leaned over the table, resting her chin on her palms. “And what did you say?”
“I said I’d think about it.” I leaned forward too. “What would you want me to say?”
Her eyes met mine in surprise. “You’re asking me what I want?”
“I am.” I held her gaze. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night. I’m sorry,” I said in earnest, the words as unfamiliar as they came. “You were only trying to help.”
Our food came just then, and Beatrice averted her gaze, taking her elbows off the table. The server left, and then Beatrice turned to look at me, picking up her fork and knife.
“I’m glad you see that now,” she said. “I think Dante’s offer’s a good one.”
I hadn’t yet decided for sure on the next steps, but felt that calling Dante wasn’t such a bad idea. However, I also didn’t want to raise Bea’s hopes in case I changed my mind later.
“Mm-hmm,” I hummed, taking a bite of the potatoes. And that conversation was soon forgotten.
***
When we reached home, we both decided to hit the bed, given how long the day had been. After dinner at that Italian place, we went out for some cocktails.
“So tell me, why exactly did you take me out to dinner again?” she teased as we climbed up the stairs.
“I was coming to find you to apologize when they told me you’d gone out.” I shrugged. “So I followed you.”
“That’s a little stalkerish,” she pointed out with a wink.
“Yeah, I guess, when you put it like that,” I chuckled.
Her bedroom came before mine down the hallway, so we stopped outside it. She leaned her back against the door, her arms folded casually over her chest, and I remembered thinking how pretty she looked like that. Flushed from the wine, her hair just a little messy, her eyes bright and full of life.
“Thank you. For dinner. And for the apology,” she said, softly.
“I was a total dick,” I said, leaning forward to rest a hand on the door, beside her ear.
Her eyes flickered to where my hand went, then back to my eyes, and I felt the air between us thicken, like sweet summer heat brimming with possibilities.
“I thought you were going off to bed, Bea,” I said, my voice hoarse and teasing.
“I believe I can stay up just a little longer,” she whispered softly, her hands coming up to fiddle with my collar. My hands trembled then as they reached for her waist, our heads tilting as my lips brushed against hers.
“God, I missed you,” I groaned against her soft lips, pulling her closer until her hips hit mine.
I kissed her deeper, and her hands clutched at my shirt to pull me closer. I backed her gently against the doorframe, our bodies glued together like they were made to fit.
“Arko,” she whispered against my lips as I cupped her cheek in one hand. “I wasn’t planning to let you off the hook this easy.”
“I know,” I murmured back, trailing kisses down her neck. “You can still yell at me later, you know?”
She laughed softly. “Promise?”
“Promise.” I reached behind her to open her bedroom door.