Chapter 7 - Ivan
"I'm assuming you made it back," Aleks said through the phone, tone expectant with a hint of muted concern.
He was never one to be outright about his protective nature when it came to us, but his checking in always gave him away. He'd always deny being a sap, but we knew better than that.
Sitting on the terrace overlooking the backyard and pool, I swallowed back some of my coffee and nodded to myself. "Yeah, I'm back."
"And everything was taken care of?"
"Of course. I promised and delivered," I murmured back, secure in the fact that Kuzmin wouldn't be a problem anymore.
While it wouldn't necessarily hurt to let him in on my plan with Daria, I left that part out on purpose. It may be linked to the family business, but to me, it was a side project of sorts. A personal matter I didn't need to concern the others with.
Besides, while she did deceive Olivia and Dima, I was the one she strung along in a different sense. She played with my feelings and took advantage of my interest.
Because of that, I was the one dishing out the punishment. That was between us.
"Good...I'm glad to hear it," Aleks said, allowing a slight beat of silence to linger before he continued, "Now that you're back in San Diego, what's next for you?"
I hummed to myself, watching as the palm trees swayed in the backyard. "That was something I wanted to circle back to...remember when I brought up that premium booze label?"
After quiet consideration, Aleks returned, "Yes, I remember. The legit business you were thinking up, right?"
"That's the one. I don't want any funny business. It's not just a front," I reminded him, set on that fact. "I want it to be big—a passion project, if you will."
Aleks chuckled. "I'm assuming that means you'll be scouting manufacturers out there?"
"Of course. I wouldn't miss the opportunity to call day drinking work."
I could picture him shaking his head on the other end before replying, "A fine excuse, at least..."
"Beyond that, I hope to integrate the bottles in our clubs too. We'll gain more exposure, sell more than the lion's share each night, and it'll sell out once it hits the shelves," I reassured him, confident in the fact that it would be a solid venture for the family business. "Given our connections and reputation, I know it'll be a success."
There was a slight pause on his end before Aleks murmured with insinuation in his tone, "And if it were to prove beneficial as some sort of cover-up?"
Aware of his meaning, I sigh. "Yes, if there's something advantageous that comes along, we can use it without our other operations, too. Otherwise, it's still legit."
My brother hummed his satisfaction on the other end. "Good...I like the sound of that."
Sipping more of my coffee, I put the cup down and ran a hand over my mouth. "Well? What do you think?"
"I think it's not a bad idea. If it keeps you busy and proves to be a beneficial venture, then I say go for it," he said, sounding almost proud of me. "I'm giving you the green light. Whatever resources you need to get it done, go ahead and use them. But this thing is your child, so to speak. If anything goes wrong, it's yours to deal with."
Even if he was essentially warning me to not fuck it up, I was sure enough of myself and the plan to not be deterred by it. I nodded to myself again. "Got it. I'll make sure the train stays on the tracks."
"And at the very least, I expect the damn drinks to be good. Not like the cheap, celebrity-endorsed shit."
At the apparent disdain in his tone, I chuckled. "Don't worry, with me sampling them myself, they'll be Fokin approved."
"Good man."
When I heard the faint shuffle of shoes to my right, I watched as Daria stepped outside with Veronica guiding her. The maid gestured to me, then turned back inside.
The moment I laid eyes on her again, a complicated tangle of irritation and undeniable attraction pulsed within me.
As she took slow, stiff steps towards me, I let go of a discreet breath and murmured into the phone, "I have to go. I'll update you soon."
After Aleks agreed and said his goodbye, I hung up and slipped my phone into my pocket. My eyes didn't leave Daria all the while she approached.
"You're up," I said, aware of the redundancy the moment I voiced the words. Still, I pointed vaguely to the chair across from me. "Sit."
Daria glanced at me with her brows slightly furrowed, giving away the lingering anger inside her, as well as the hesitancy in her movements. Even so, she pulled the chair out before sitting down somewhat awkwardly.
Silence lingered between us while I looked her over.
Despite being left alone to rest in the spare bedroom, she looked tired, with slight bags beneath her eyes, and a glassiness to her gaze. I had the feeling she didn't sleep well despite the comforts I offered her. It was both satisfying and annoying at the same time.
Reaching for my coffee cup again, I nodded towards the pots of hot drinks between us, nestled on a tray with everything else required. My eyes remained on her all the while.
"Want some tea?"
Even if it was a genuine offer, I kept my words clipped and mostly disinterested. Whether she accepted it or not didn't make a difference to me.
Daria eyed me suspiciously, looking tense in her seat. She scoffed to herself. "What, is this some sort of nice ploy? Planning on poisoning me or something?"
I lifted a brow at her words, almost surprised to hear that kind of remark from her, given the underlying fear that seemed to surround her. Then, a tickle of amusement moved through me as I laughed.
She seemed startled by the impulse, only making it more enjoyable for me.
"That's a good suggestion, really...one that requires a lot less effort," I murmured, allowing that humored grin to shift into a more serious look. "But no...I wouldn't let you go down that easily."
A hint of relief moved through her eyes before the deeper meaning of my words seemed to sink in.
Wanting her to really feel the gravity in my words, I leaned forward. "If you're to die by my hands, it will be slow and painful...but of course, you're welcome to miss out if you're that paranoid."
The moment a look of horror moved through her eyes, shifting uncomfortably in her chair, a brush of satisfaction moved through me.
The sooner she realized I wasn't bluffing, the better for her.
Not making the effort to reach for the tea or coffee, Daria bristled and leaned back in the chair, making herself a bit smaller in doing so. It was clear she wanted to shrink away from me, but there was nowhere for her to run.
I lifted a brow at her wordless response. "What, not a fan of what I have to say?"
A muscle in her jaw twitched slightly as she met my gaze again, eyes sharper than before. "Do you need to sound so aggressive?"
Something about that question made the corners of my lips turn up faintly. "It's in my nature...I hope you're not anticipating that changing any time soon. You'll only be disappointed."
Her words came out, muttered. "Why did I have the feeling you'd say that?"
I pulled another sip from my coffee before setting it down and steepling my fingers on the edge of the table. "Am I that predictable?"
Looking vaguely irritated again, she shook her head and glanced away at something, or nothing, in the yard. "It seems so."
"So you think you have me all figured out then," I returned, lifting an accusatory brow at her.
She gave me a cautious look. "Hardly."
At that, I grinned and leaned back again. "That's right...you don't know the first thing about me or what I'm really capable of."
While she digested the implications of my claims, another hint of worry moved through her eyes, seemingly running through every possibility in her mind.
I looked her over, discreetly admiring what I saw. I didn't want her to know that, of course. Not while I needed her to remain defenseless against me. I didn't need her to think she could somehow sway me just because I found her attractive. The less advantage she had, the better.
It was a shame, too. The things I'd do to her—for her—if she hadn't participated in that charade.
After a moment, as if growing tired of it all, Daria's brows pinched together while she looked at me pointedly. "You speak a lot of threats, yet you haven't killed me yet. So what is this all for, then?"
Somewhat surprised by her words, I took a moment to articulate myself. I tilted my head and peered at her. "Trust me...the thought crossed my mind, but I don't plan on killing you. Not when I have something better prepared. Something that'll make you wish I chose something quick and painless."
Another flicker of pain scuttled through her features while she held my gaze. With a breath, she mumbled, "At least tell me what this plan is."
Not looking away from her for a moment, I considered her request, then chuckled. Of course, she'd want to know. I had left her mostly in the dark up to that moment, and she had no idea what I had in store for her.
"Now where's the fun in that?"
That wasn't what she wanted to hear.
She scowled at me with her arms crossed over her chest. "You took me from Mexico in restraints, hauled me back here to your home, and locked me in a bedroom. Do you expect me to not have any questions?"
"Oh, I'm sure you have plenty, but I'm not interested in hearing them."
It was clear from the fire in her eyes that I was pushing every one of her buttons, and those reactions only made me want to continue.
"You're an asshole."
"If you're aiming to hurt my feelings, you'll need to try much harder than that," I returned with a faint grin.
Even if she pissed me off to no end, she was amusing. Getting under her skin was more fun than I anticipated it would be.
I could see in her brown eyes how badly she wanted to lose her cool...how badly she either wanted to slap me or run off. Likely both.
Still, she somehow managed to hold her tongue.
As much as I wanted to drag that torture out a bit longer to leave her guessing, I figured there would be no better time to let it slip. She'd find out eventually, anyway.
I looked her over from top to bottom, then grinned faintly to myself. "I'd get comfortable if I were you. You're not going anywhere anytime soon."
When the confusion stitched into her features further in silent question, I hummed my satisfaction at the way she seemed to cling to my every word.
"Not since you're going to be my wife."
To stoke that absolute pleasure it brought me to bask in her misery, I watched all the while her entire world came crashing down around her.
That was exactly what I wanted.