Chapter 5 - Jenna
I pulled the tiny, fluffy jacket I’d chosen for the occasion a little tighter around my body, but it was useless; it did nothing to dispel the biting cold that attacked me. The sound of my heels clacking against the marble floor reminded me that I needed to embody this character as best as possible. That was the only way.
As I walked in, I couldn’t help but notice the sophisticated ambiance. The restaurant's lighting was soft, and the plush seating and beautiful decor were enough to set the mood for unique dining. There were fresh flowers on the tables, sparkling glassware, and polished silverware that reminded me painfully that I was way out of my comfort zone. I was impressed by the place he’d chosen; I hadn’t expected anything less, but it was nice that he’d put thought into this meeting.
However, I didn’t belong here at all, and everything in me fought to stay in place instead of turning right around and taking a cab straight home. I initiated this, so I had to see it through.
“Hello. I’m here for my reservation with Mr. Sharov,” I politely told the man at the entrance. He immediately gave me a broad smile, recognizing the name.
I fought the urge to snicker at his attitude; I’d been around it all my life—ordinary people bending over backward for people they considered powerful and wealthy.
This restaurant was one of the most expensive and famous in the city, so it wasn’t hard to guess that its regulars were wealthy. When Feliks sent me the details of the reservations, I wasn’t surprised.
I adjusted the skimpy dress I’d chosen for the occasion, but it barely helped, and I huffed in discomfort.
“Miss Fairfax, right this way, please. Mr. Sharov will be joining you soon,” the doorman asked, and that was when it hit me.
Feliks still didn’t know that I’d taken Veronica’s place, so he thought he’d meet her here today. I was tempted to ask the man what first name I’d been booked under, but I didn’t want to raise any questions, so I nodded and let him lead me. I planned on telling Feliks as soon as he got here, anyway.
Although the restaurant was already busy, there was barely any noise, save for the occasional clank of a fork against a plate. My mother had always told me rich people never had anything interesting to talk about during their meals, so they usually focused their attention on their food as if it were the most exciting thing in the world.
I struggled to keep my head high as I walked; the path we took had diners turning in our direction, and I struggled not to falter under their gazes. Finally, we arrived at a series of stairs leading up to the rooftop.
“Just right here, Miss.”
I hummed in response, trying to hide how nervous I was.
The crisp evening air was refreshing, and I instantly regretted wearing such a skimpy dress as I sat at the secluded rooftop table. I was grateful for the privacy because it would at least make communication easier.
A server approached, smiling. “Would you like to get started with anything, Miss Fairfax—perhaps a drink? Or would you like to wait for your date?” He waited; his fingers poised over the lit screen of a slim tablet.
I fought the urge to wince at the mention of the word “date.” Feliks was probably my father’s age, and I wasn’t looking forward to meeting him.
“I’ll wait for Mr. Sharov, thank you,” I responded, watching as the server retreated.
I looked around, immediately captivated by the view. Below, the cityscape shimmered with a thousand winking lights. The sight was beautiful, but I couldn’t fully appreciate it; my heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a stark contrast to the calm facade I struggled to maintain.
I dreaded Feliks’ arrival. Veronica’s vivid description of him hadn’t been hard to picture, and the thought that my family was about to bind me to some wrinkled, half-bald monster man made my stomach churn. They were very mistaken if they thought I was going to do this without a fight. I had my whole life ahead of me, and I wasn’t about to throw it away—just like that—for the sake of this marriage.
I had a plan.
I adjusted my dress again, cringing a little when I felt the cold air over my exposed cleavage, but it was all a part of the plan, and I fought to keep in character.
I heard footsteps walking in my direction, and I raised my head; when I locked eyes with the man approaching me, my heart ceased to beat within my chest, and I struggled for a second to get air into my lungs. I was surprised I could maintain my composure, keeping my expression blank, with the turmoil forming deep within me.
The man that was approaching was younger than I’d anticipated. He walked with an unnerving charisma that sent a shiver down my spine and held my focus. He had an ageless beauty, with an air of dominance that few could muster. His dark brown hair, perfectly styled, outlined his rigidly handsome face; it was an actual struggle to look away from him. Defined cheekbones sharpened his beauty, framed by a strong jaw. However, his eyes were cold, dark, and ruthless—a piercing hazel abyss that trapped me in his gaze with just one look.
Was this Feliks?
His body gave off an aura of strength that I could taste on the tip of my tongue. His tailor-made clothes fit his muscular, solid body so perfectly I got a decent image of the body underneath. The hint of a smirk lingered on his lips as he caught me watching him. He oozed confidence and so much appeal that it intimidated me, even without a word spoken.
The man was painfully attractive, but it didn’t take away from the vile beast that he was. I lifted my chin; I couldn’t get carried away. His handsome face didn’t make him any less of a monster—it was simply a mask for distraction, and I wasn’t going to give my life away to him.
He stopped in front of me, brows furrowing. “Veronica?” His deep baritone voice was surprisingly calm, with a sweet accent.
“Veronica?” I feigned confusion. “There must be some mistake. I’m Jenna.”
My voice was soft and sweet as I spoke, and I gave myself a pat on the back for maintaining this level of composure when the man in front of me intimidated me to no end.
Amusement danced in his eyes. “Jenna?” The name rolled off his tongue like a challenge. He unbuttoned his suit jacket before moving to take the seat opposite me. “And who might Jenna be?”
“Well—lucky for you, might I add—instead of my younger sister, I’m the one who is set to marry you.” I leaned forward slightly as I spoke.
His gaze swept over me, and the amusement that had danced only seconds before vanished. His stormy eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint swimming within as his eyes trailed down toward my exposed cleavage.
I fought the urge to lift my hands to cover myself. This was precisely what I wanted. When I’d sent the text to Feliks to arrange a meeting, I had only one plan in mind: to make him reject me.
After all, he only had to marry my father’s daughter, and—as Laura and Veronica had pointed out—it didn’t matter which one. If I could manage to get him to hate me, he’d request Veronica specifically, and my father would have no control over his choice. Once Veronica married into the Bratva, my father’s business surely would be stable again; then, I could beg him to assist with my mother’s medical treatment, and I knew that, at some point, he’d bend and help.
I wasn’t about to sit silent and sacrifice my entire life, especially not for my selfish stepsister and her mother.
Besides, looking at him now, I knew that if Veronica were to meet him, she’d be all over him. This was her type of man. She typically liked handsome bad boys, so it might not be so terrible if the two ended up together at the end of the day. She was just as cruel as this man—if not more so—so they already had some things in common.
“That dress looks like it’s about to fall apart; the straps barely look like they’re holding up, and you don’t look like you’re breathing well from how tight it is,” he commented, and a broad smile immediately painted my face.
This was perfect. If he was already finding flaws on his own, my plan was working out even better than I’d hoped.
“Well, you see, Feliks, this is my wardrobe choice. It’s my style, and this one is actually one of the more decent ones in my closet—you should see my clubbing outfits!” I offered, with a fake cheer in my voice that made me cringe internally; however, I couldn’t let the fa?ade drop at that moment. “Unfortunately, as my husband, you will have to accept it. This is my style, and there’s plenty more where this came from.” I giggled.
Feliks chuckled, the sound low and almost sarcastic, but he didn’t say anything; he continued to watch me as I went on, describing the different skimpy clothes that decorated my designer wardrobe.
However, a new set of guests entered the space at this point. Judging by their sharp, three-piece suits, they were businessmen. I noticed Feliks’ gaze darkening when a couple of them walked by our table, ogling my exposed cleavage.
A jealous man. Interesting.
The server came to take our orders and serve us some drinks; while I sipped champagne, Felix cleared his voice before speaking.
“So, Jenna, tell me about yourself. Aside from your love for short dresses, what else should I know about you?”
I took a sip of my drink before speaking. Talking about my crazy style wasn’t enough to get my desired reaction, so it was time to move to the next phase.
Step two.
“Well, if you must know, I’ve had quite a crazy past with men. It’s wild how the numbers stack up when you’re not paying much attention! I’m still friends with quite a few of my exes, and I’m sure most of them will be devastated to hear that I’m getting married. I’m their favorite ex and will most likely always be. It’s like they can’t get enough of me, always wanting to come back once I cut off ties with them.”
I laughed like I’d just said the funniest thing in the world, but Feliks face remained stoic as I spoke.
My heart began beating wildly in my chest. Was he buying it? Or could he see through my virgin self?
“That’s actually one of the reasons I wanted to meet you, to let you know these things about myself so you’re not shocked when you find out. Hopefully, you’re not too bothered about my past because, you know, it’s just the way it’s always been. I’ve always been the sweetheart.” I winked, taking another sip of my drink.
Feliks only continued to watch me with the same stern expression. It was starting to make my stomach churn.
It was time to bring in step three. I needed a reaction from the man, something other than a blank stare and the occasional twitch of his lips. I needed him to reject me and insist on marrying Veronica.
I tried again. “I also have a confession.”
“And what might that be, Jenna?” The way my name rolled off his tongue sent a tingling to the base of my spine that forced me to sit upright.
I lowered my voice, even though I knew no one else could hear our conversation. “I have issues with sleepwalking and talking.”
Feliks leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Then, a slow smile spread across his face.
“Intriguing,” he murmured, his gaze holding mine. “Tell me more about these quirks, Jenna.”
Panic clawed at my throat. Why wasn’t he running? Or repulsed? Why did he sound so interested? This wasn’t part of the plan.
“Well, you know, on some days, it gets so bad that I might hurt the ones around me. It’s usually safer for everyone if I’ll stay in a different room, but I still manage to break through and cause some havoc. I just wanted to tell you this news because I want you to accept me despite all these things.”
I plastered a smile on my lips as I fought the painful cold biting my exposed skin, but I couldn’t help the shiver that ran through me. Beneath the table, I crossed my fingers and hoped he’d reject me. Cancel the entire marriage and send me away.
Feliks stood, and my heart skipped for joy. This was it! He would walk away, which would end the chapter for me.
Or so I thought.
To my surprise, Feliks peeled his suit jacket off his frame, then walked over to my side of the table, placing the coat over my shoulders before whispering into my ear.
“You’re a terrible actor, Jenna. Did anyone ever tell you that?”
My heart dropped.
Getting covered up brought me warmth, and the masculine scent surrounding me and his deep voice whispering in my ear sent a chill up my spine. Feliks moved his chair closer to me, and when he tucked a strand of hair behind my ears, I could have sworn that I stopped to live in that second.
“Cut the act, will you? And tell me something honest about yourself.”
Nervousness settled in my stomach, mainly because of his proximity.
His intentions were clear; he would marry me, and I could do nothing about it. He saw right through my charade. The thought was enough to make the hair on my arms stand on end.