Chapter 12 Jess #2
I’m hit again with another wave of shock when I make it into the kitchen.
This can’t be real. I walk through the room, noting the chandelier hanging above my head, and the barstools all tucked neatly under the island, like they’ve been measured.
It wouldn’t surprise me. Nadir expects nothing but the best. Everything must be ordered.
His tie must be straight, not an inch the other way.
I run my pointer finger over the onyx countertops, noticing the flecks of gold beneath the surface, how they shine when they catch the overhead lighting. It’s probably real gold.
I continue trailing my finger, coming across no spillages, not even a speck of dust.
It’s like stepping into another world.
Anger bubbles beneath the surface as I admire the countertops, the unnecessarily sleek cupboards that blend into the wall.
I wouldn’t know how to open these things.
It’s pretentious and so fucking unpractical that my hands curl into fists from anger.
I’m barely able to pay the bills and afford the bare minimum, and Nadir’s over here designing his own kitchen, rich enough to afford a fucking chandelier.
These days, I’m lucky if I can afford a light bulb.
“Care for a drink?”
I shudder. God, how long has he been here for?
I hear the popping of a cork and turn around. Nadir plucks two stem glasses from the bar.
Yes, a bar. I was so busy being angry at him that I didn’t even notice the bar, and all of the liquor bottles arranged behind it.
There’s a lot of choice, but Nadir chooses for me, setting the two glasses on the island. He pours the wine, and the consistency is thick and red. Like blood.
I grip the countertop, my breath catching as he fills the glasses.
The wine splashes up the side, and some transfers onto Nadir’s hand.
He sucks it from his finger and it makes a kissing sound, and now everything is unfolding in slow motion as I watch his tongue dart out of his mouth to slide over his lip, mopping up the excess.
I don’t even realize he’s watching me.
Fuck.
“Don’t worry,” he jokes. “I’m a mafia leader, not a vampire.
” He circles around the island and hands me a glass of wine.
“But Taro certainly drinks the blood of his enemies.” He chooses to lean into the island instead of popping a seat.
There are plenty of barstools to choose from, but he probably doesn’t wanna fuck up the placement and have to remeasure the chairs again.
“The meeting,” he begins. “Those men were Taro’s. ”
“I’m afraid you’re gonna have to start speaking English.”
“Taro’s the leader of the Kozhikov Bratva. I’m assuming he didn’t tell you about that.” Nadir arches his brow. “Makes sense as to why you found him to be distant.”
My breath catches. “He can’t be a…there were never any signs.”
“Jess.”
I fold my arms over my chest. “What happened to Miss Rawcliffe?”
Nadir arches the brow higher. “I think we both know we’re past the point of formalities.”
I gulp, thinking back to when we were alone in the elevator. We find ourselves alone a lot, but that instance was…not okay. If he owns me at work, he owns me in his penthouse. And there’s nobody watching us here, nobody glancing up from open workspaces to spy on what we’re doing.
“Jess?”
“Huh?” I’m shaken from my trance yet again.
“I asked you a question.”
“I didn’t hear.”
“I asked you if Taro ever hurt you?”
“Physically?” I shake my head. “No. But he did punch me where it hurts with that recording of my best friend’s daughter almost knocking over the candle.”
Nadir takes a long sip of wine, encouraging me to do the same.
Yeah, come to think of it, wine is exactly what I need. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed a glass, and this stuff is hitting right where I need it to.
I slosh the wine around in the glass, examining the thick consistency. Did Nadir really mean what he said about Taro drinking his victims’ blood, or does Nadir just have a really dry sense of humor?
Humor with the truth interwoven?
Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me. Taro was always a very closed book. I see now why he liked to keep to himself—he had many secrets.
Kinda like the guy standing in front of me, giving me the smolder in his ridiculously big kitchen.
I keep my back pressed into the countertop as I take another sip of wine. It slides down my throat like silk, leaving behind a nice warmth.
The wine is another reminder that this man has never struggled a day in his life.
Nadir wastes money on business-class travel and on suits he doesn’t need, and yet he’s offered to take me and my children in. A lot of people wouldn’t do that…unless it benefited them somehow.
“You seemed pretty panicked earlier when you told me I had to come and stay with you.” I tilt my head to the side in assessment. “Why is that?”
“Taro is a dangerous man.”
“Right. Because he leads a Russian mafia?” I point my finger at him, clutching the wine. “You own a Russian mafia too.”
Nadir narrows his eyes, reading between the lines. “I’m dangerous in different ways, printsessa.”
My heart leaps out of my chest. I don’t understand the word but it has me blushing.
“Dangerous in different ways, how?” I take another sip of wine, using it as an excuse to look away from his face.
Looking for too long is a recipe for disaster, and I’ll probably end up choking.
It’s like these lights were designed with his face in mind, to paint him in the best light for when he has guests over. Female ones.
My stomach still flips when I think about how worlds apart we are. He’s bringing girls home every Friday night, meanwhile I’m reading my kids bedtime stories.
Nadir sees me as a number, one of many women he’s entertained in his day. I see him as my first time, and the only man I’ve ever had sex with.
And now I’m necking wine in his kitchen, trying to give myself strength.
“Easy,” he purrs, taking a step closer. “That stuff is vintage.”
“I can handle it,” I assure him.
Can I? I can’t even handle my shit when I’m in the same room as Nadir.
I cross my arms over my chest, keeping a good hold on the wineglass. “Tell me what you were discussing in the meeting. Why was there a knife behind that man’s back?”
“I told Sergey to keep it there in case the spokesperson refused to leave.”
“What was the purpose of the meeting?” I intend to hound him with questions until I have my answers. “And don’t tell me it’s none of my business. Those men belong to Taro, and Taro’s my ex, which makes it very much my business.”
“He wants to merge our businesses,” Nadir says, finishing his wine. “He sent a group of his people into our building without any prior warning. We had to meet with them.”
“Why?”
“Because they visited us at our business front. It puts us in a vulnerable place.”
“Can’t you send them away with a death threat?”
Nadir shakes his head. “It’s not that simple, unfortunately.” He tops up his wine. “We agreed to have a meeting with them at the Sterling building and wrap things up. They left without intervention, which tells me they’ll be back.”
“It sounds like they’re weak.”
This catches Nadir’s attention.
I continue. “They wouldn’t need to merge with you if they were strong enough. You have the upper hand, so why are you so desperate for me to move in?”
“Because we can’t risk Taro seeing you.”
“Ah. Got it. Because this now affects you.”
Typical.
I roll my eyes and push off toward the island, pouring myself another glass of wine. Damn, this stuff is good. Much better than the man who bought it.
Nadir watches me sidelong. “This arrangement suits the both of us. Not just me.”
All I’m hearing is that he’s the same selfish billionaire as the others who came before him—only caring about others when it benefits them. Anger boils to the surface, and it releases in the form of laughter. That will be the wine working its way through my system.
I slam the glass on the island, and slap a hand over my mouth before the wine squirts out. Nadir wouldn’t be impressed if I got wine on his white collar, or his face.
That being said, scrubbing out stains shouldn’t be anything new to him.
“You’ve had enough wine.” He steals my glass and sets it out of reach.
God, this is embarrassing. Drunk at six thirty p.m. with my boss and the father of my child is a new low. Good thing I’ve already hit rock bottom. That means it’s only up from here.
“You’re actually insufferable,” I snarl.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Only giving a fuck about another human being when it suits.” I push off the island and search for my wine, finding it on the other side of the table. “Trying to hide my drink from me now. Haven’t you hid enough from me already?”
“Like?”
“Well, for starters, you should let people know what they’re getting themselves into before they sign any agreements.”
“You don’t like things being kept from you,” observes Nadir.
“Does anyone?” I take a sip of wine.
“No, but your reactions are a lot…louder than other people’s when they learn the truth about my company.
” Nadir steps forward, his shoes clacking against the black marble.
“It’s almost as if you care on a personal level.
Like you’ve gone most of your life never knowing the full truth about something. ”
Enough observations for one day.
I feel my cheeks turn a similar shade of red as the wine.
Embarrassment visits me in waves, but the rational side of my brain doesn’t stick around for long.
I neck the rest of the wine until the embarrassment fades.
I’m tired of thinking, of having to look over my shoulder every waking second of the day in case I’m being followed.
For once in my life, I don’t wanna think.
Nadir snatches the wineglass from my lips mid-drink, and it spills over my shirt.