Chapter 8 – Karik
I knew she was gorgeous the moment I saw her in that restaurant. But tonight, her beauty exceeded my imagination, and that’s not even an exaggeration.
The red gown hugged her in all the right places, revealing her curves and contours. Her eyes sparkled in a way I hadn’t seen before, and it warmed my stone-cold heart. The professional I’d hired did a wonderful job at transforming my little prisoner into a diva.
We hadn’t walked into the main hall yet, and her presence had already drawn attention. Heads turned as we moved toward the entrance under the silver glow of the full moon above.
She stiffened when I placed a hand on the small of her back. For a second, I thought she was going to slap my arm off. But she didn’t. Instead, she straightened, keeping her head up as we climbed the long steps at the entrance.
The men at the door, dressed in evening coats, acknowledged us with a practiced nod. She returned the gesture with a small smile.
We walked into the main hall, bathed in the chandelier’s warm amber light that made everything seem more valuable than it was. The air was filled with the soft hum of conversation as the city’s most important people lingered in small groups.
Politicians. Humanitarians. Celebrities. Mafia.
They’re all here, dressed in their finest tuxes and gowns. True intentions were hidden behind fake smiles and forced laughs. Because half the people in here hated each other’s guts.
Nobody in this hall was who the world thought they were. Except for the Mafia men. We were the devils in suits—the ones the masses knew and feared. They were wrong. We’re not the ones they should be worried about.
The politicians, celebrities, philanthropists, and activists they loved were their real enemies. They were in bed with men like me for their own gain, regardless of who got hurt.
These men and women publicly denied affiliations with us but licked our shoes in private. They’d mastered the art of manipulation, presenting themselves as saints. And the gullible masses praised them for a few good deeds.
For every problem they “solved,” they created another. They’d learned to take credit for putting out the fire they started. The citizens saw these men and women as their saviors, when in fact they were the devils people should flee from.
I brought Ellie here so she’d see for herself how deeply corrupt the justice system had become. The same system she had hoped would fight for Daniel Vetrov.
Her eyes swept the hall in careful increments, cataloging possible exits and faces. Beside me, she scanned the room, drinking in every detail of her surroundings.
“Champagne?” A waiter appeared at my left.
I took two crystal glasses from his tray without breaking stride and handed one to her. She accepted it but didn’t take a sip. She didn’t comment either. She just held it, the correct instinct whether she realized it or not.
Heads turned as we moved, murmurs rippling through the crowd. I sipped my champagne, one hand still resting on the small of her back. Some onlookers wore jealousy on their faces, while others wore astonishment and sheer surprise.
She didn’t shrink under their gazes; instead, she straightened her spine and moved with the confidence of a woman in control.
“Is it just me, or is everyone looking at us?” she asked, her voice a low whisper. “I don’t like too much attention.”
“Says the girl who chose the one case for her school presentation that drew a lot of attention,” I replied in the same tone.
She stole a quick glance at me but said nothing, her brows knitting together.
I spotted him down the hall, Viktor Lasch. But he had already seen me and was on his way to meet me. The man had an instinct for sensing when influence and power entered the room. This skill had kept him solvent through three administrations and one serious tax investigation.
“Karik. What a pleasant surprise!” He held out his hand, his cufflinks glinting in the chandelier’s warm glow. “I was told you weren’t going to come tonight.”
I shook his hand. “Well, I’m here, aren’t I?”
His lips curled into a slight smirk. “You sure are.” He looked at Ellie, lust flickering in his eyes. “And you didn’t come alone.”
I responded by pulling her closer, my arm possessive around her waist, as if guarding what was mine.
Viktor’s smile held. He was too experienced to push further or make any snarky comments. The man, though in his mid-sixties, had one problem: his unhealthy obsession with beautiful women. That’s why his wife left him three years ago.
If I hadn’t marked Ellie and kept a straight face, he would’ve already been flirting with her.
He cleared his throat, shifting his gaze back to me. “We should, uh…we should talk before the end of the week.” He paused slightly as he combed his fingers through his silver hair. “Regarding the port district proposal.”
“I’ll have my assistant schedule a time convenient for the both of us.”
“I’d appreciate that.” He shot her a quick glance, the third in the last minute. The man couldn’t keep his eyes on me alone. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” He nodded, already backing away. “Lovely to see you both.”
Ellie responded with a wide grin. He did the same, then turned and left.
“He seems nice,” she said to me.
I hesitated, taking a sip out of my glass. “Predators always are.”
She paused, her eyes pinned on me. “Karik, huh?”
I looked at her, and a flutter rose in my chest. No wonder Viktor couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was absolutely gorgeous. Why did her beauty seem to have been enhanced over the past few minutes?
“I thought your name would move mountains or something.” She lifted her glass to her lips, took a small sip, and continued watching the room.
The next hour fell into the rhythm these evenings always did: a controlled rotation of conversations. Some I tolerated. Some I needed to have. And some, I just ended.
She stayed at my side throughout it, absorbing everything. When Dominic Frey, the city planning commissioner, talked about infrastructure, her lips parted as if she had something to add. But in the end, she kept her thoughts to herself.
Deep down, a part of me wanted to hear what she had to say. However, that was a topic for some other time.
She didn’t speak unless addressed, and when addressed, her response was brief and straightforward. Her diplomacy and ability to know exactly how much to give and how much to hold back were rather remarkable.
This wasn’t something they taught in university classrooms. Where did she learn it?
While I was speaking with Senator Albert Ross and Winona Marsh, Ellie turned slightly toward the railing. She was watching the floor below as she cradled the glass in her hand.
The senator received a call and excused himself, leaving only Winona and me. The fifty-year-old brunette, dressed in an elegant gown and an expensive fur coat, had her eyes on Ellie.
“She’s beautiful,” Winona said, stealing a glance at me. “And very smart too,” she added, “I don’t recognize her.”
“Most people don’t,” I replied.
“Is she yours?”
The question landed like a heavy rock on my chest, and I didn’t respond right away. I sipped my champagne, watching as she faced the railing, one hand resting on the polished steel.
Something about her stirred a strange feeling in me. Was it the way the red gown fit her body perfectly, revealing her curves? Was it the pearl at her throat or the way her brown hair fell loosely over her shoulders?
“She’s with me tonight,” I answered, finally finding my voice.
Winona looked at me and said, “That’s not what I asked.”
“No.” I sipped from my glass, my tone low but dismissive. “It’s not.”
She made a sound that was almost amused.
“Something funny?” I looked at her.
“Not really.” She heaved a quiet sigh. “It’s not every day you see a Tarasov questioning his emotions.”
My brows drew together. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Her lips curled into a small smile, and she tapped my shoulder. “Time will tell, Karik.”
I watched her walk away as if she hadn’t just meddled in something that was none of her business.
That’s when Ellie returned from the railing with a hint of shock flickering in her gaze. Did she hear any of that? I hoped not.
“You won’t believe who I just saw on the ground floor,” she said to me.
It wasn’t about my conversation with Winona. Good.
My silence was her cue.
“Lucas Bradford,” she said, as if I were supposed to know who that was. “Dr. Lucas Bradford.”
I stared blankly at her.
“He’s a panelist at my university—also a legal consultant for the state attorney’s office.” She paused. “What’s he doing here?”
I walked over to the railing. “Show me who this Bradford is.”
She joined me at the balcony.
“And please do not point at anyone.”
Her face twisted into a frown. “I’m not stupid.” She looked down at the ground floor below the railing. “There. He’s standing next to the man in the gray suit.”
I swirled the glass in my hand, a cocky smirk playing on my lips. She clearly had no idea who that was.
“Do you know who that is?” I asked her. “The man in the gray suit.”
She squinted, her head tilting slightly to the side. “Should I?”
“That’s Marco Stefano,” I said. “A collector for the Italian mob.”
Her head snapped toward me, brows raised in shock. “What?”
“He’s as dangerous as they come. Trust me.” I drained the rest of my champagne.
“I don’t…I don’t understand,” she stuttered. “He’s supposed to be one of the good ones. One of the people who uphold the law.” Another pause. “What’s he doing with the Italian Mafia?”
“Business.”
The disappointment in her gaze was mildly satisfying. Her manicured fingers tightened around the railing as she watched Bradford laugh at something Stefano had said.
“You asked why I brought you here. Here’s your answer,” I began. “It’s so you can see how the world truly works.”
She listened quietly, her gaze focused on the men chattering below.