Chapter Fifteen – Roman
Polina did a choreographed tap dance on the steps, with her arms moving up and down like a swan and her neck making funny movements when she missed a step. She repeated the routine, ending with a graceful curtsy, and grabbed my arm.
“Daddy?”
“Yes, baby? That was some performance. I didn’t know ballerinas had tap dance in their routines.”
“No, they don’t. But I’m not a ballerina.”
Intrigued by her six-year-old revelation, I asked, “You’re not?”
She shook her head, drawing invisible circles on the ground. “I’m a warrior.”
“A warrior?” I repeated more slowly, and her lips pulled up in a smile. “A warrior with a tutu who knows how to tap dance and do a plié.”
“It’s pronounced ‘plee-ay’, Daddy, not ‘plee’. And yes, I’m a warrior who knows how to do all of that. Even though knowing a plié is not a big deal. Anyone can do it.”
“I beg to differ.”
She swished her ponytail and rolled her eyes, that sass coming out. “You spoil me too much, Daddy.”
Then, the blue in her eyes sparkled with adoration as she sized me up. “You look really handsome, Daddy. I like your suit. It’s plain and black, as it always is.”
I chuckled and pinched her cheek. “Now, I’m not so sure if that’s a compliment.”
She smacked her lips and made a little twirl, using my arm for support. Her tutu jiggled, and she plucked at an unwoven seam.
“But it is.”
I knew where she was heading. Polina was smart. She could tell when I was happy, upset, and in the mood to play. And whether or not I gave hints, she knew when I was going to be absent for a while.
“Why don’t you ever wear colors like red, Daddy?”
Dropping to my haunches, I cupped her cheeks and smiled. “I don’t think I like red, baby. Black is easier, classy, and a lot less complicated. It goes with everything, every mood and every feeling. So, black it is.”
“That’s a real analysis for a color.” Her lips formed a pout, and she folded her arms behind her, looking up with a puppy gaze. “That means you don’t really like my pink tutu or any of the other clothes you got me?”
“No, baby.” I planted a kiss on her cheek. “I love them. Your colors are gorgeous, and they are perfect on you.”
She grabbed my hands and kept them firmly planted on her warm cheeks. “You’re going to be absent again tonight, aren’t you?”
This was one of those nights when it hurt me to be away from her. Leaving her for days was difficult for both of us. To me, it was a constant jab at the back of my head, worrying about her safety or the fear of being estranged from her.
“Not for long. I’ll be back early enough to see you in the morning. But Vasili will be here to protect you.”
She yawned. I sensed sleep coming in. “Doesn’t feel the same when you’re not around. And Maria, too,” she added. Her head perked up. “I like her a lot. Do you like her, too, Daddy?”
I didn’t have to think about it; the answer came in a heartbeat. But I didn’t want to put more ideas in Polina’s head than she already had.
“We should put you to bed.”
She squealed, eyes twinkling, like she knew something I didn’t. A dramatic gasp left her lips; she covered her mouth with a hand and squealed, “Oh, my God, you do like her!” and commenced with rapid-fire babbles.
“I like that you like her…. You should totally marry her! You will be a perfect match! We’d be one big, happy family, Daddy….”
And the comments went on and on while she jumped up with glee and chatted animatedly. I listened with a fixed smile, cheering her on, but didn’t allow her childish fantasy to give me any ideas.
That was until we heard heels click down the steps and saw her descending like the angels I’d read about.
An angel in red.
I rose to my height, holding Polly’s hand in mine. Beside me, she howled a loud, “Wow” and showered Maria with unending praise.
I stood at the bottom, frozen, like a tree rooted to the ground. My eyes were fixed on the vision coming toward me.
Her dress clung to her curves like a second skin, and her hair and makeup were a subtle statement of sophistication. She was so beautiful. So fucking perfect.
My gaze narrowed, and my jaw clenched. She was a prize, a trophy, and I was the one claiming her. A surge of possessiveness consumed me, my mind seething with a mix of desire and territoriality.
I felt a surge of adrenaline, my heart racing with the thought of keeping her by my side, where no one else could touch her.
My arm extended; my hand closed around hers like a vice.
Maintaining a poker face, I remarked, “You look stunning.”
She blushed, then blushed even harder when Polly called her a Barbie upgrade. “Thank you,” she whispered and gave Polly a side hug.
“Alright!” the little one announced, mischief glinting in her eyes. “I’ll leave you two to it now. Have fun! And, oh, Daddy, don’t forget what we talked about.”
I bit down on my lip to keep myself from laughing.
I shared a look with her. “We talked about many things, baby. Which are you referring to?”
She made a motion with her head and backed away slowly. “Oh, you know…the one about red being your favorite color.”
She spun on her heels, yelling a loud, “Bye!” with her little tutu fluttering behind her.
Maria spared a glance between us, obviously interested in understanding the secret code between Polly and me. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, trying so hard not to smile as she fell in step beside me.
“Red is your favorite color?”
Polly’s words about us being the perfect match came back to me in a rush, and my heart pumped faster.
Groaning, I led her to the door with an arm wound around her waist.
“Well, it is now.”
****
“You haven’t told me what this is about.”
“What?”
She was staring out the window, watching the gents and ladies trooping in and out of the hotel, and picking at the tips of her fingernails.
“This.” She faced me, eyes guarded. “The dress, this place. Why are we here?”
“It’s an event.”
“I’m not dumb. I know it’s an event.”
I turned away from her, meeting Lev’s eyes through the rearview mirror. He smirked and returned his focus to the road.
I picked some lint off my suit. “I never said you were dumb, Maria. You are undoubtedly one of the smartest women I know. That’s why I thought you would have figured it out by now.”
Beside me, I heard her inhaling, leveling her breath. Struggling to kill her nerves. Her voice was quiet. “My question is, why?”
I didn’t answer her. Opening the door, I stepped out into the chill of the night and walked over to her side. I wasn’t surprised to see her already standing on the curb with her sparkling shoes glinting under flashing car headlights.
She rolled her eyes and shut the door behind her. “I can open my own doors, thank you very much.”
I stifled a grin. “Never said you couldn’t.”
She stared at me, her gaze unflinching. “You haven’t told me why, Roman.”
I pulled her close, dropped my head, and inhaled against her neck, drawing the scent of her skin into my nose. When I pressed a soft kiss and growled against her collarbone, she shivered.
“I’m going to show you to the world, to let them know that you are my woman.”
She didn’t argue. Didn’t even utter a word. Understanding softened her eyes, and she turned away to hide the well of emotions that brewed inside. I took that as a cue to proceed.
We stepped into the lavish hall, and her eyes widened at the sight of the rich and famous mingling around us. The who’s who of the city’s elite, all gathered in one spot.
Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting a golden glow on the crowd, while waiters glided silently with trays of champagne.
Her hand tightened around mine as we made our way into the fray. The flash of cameras, the fake smiles, the air thick with pretension—I knew it all too well.
I nodded to a few familiar faces, my expression a mask of civility, all the while my mind was working overtime, sizing up the competition.
We moved through the throng. I exchanged polite nods and empty pleasantries. A man in an expensive suit approached us, his smile as polished as his shoes. Dark eyes shimmered like the ripples on the champagne fountain.
He extended a hand. “Why, isn’t it good to see you again!”
My emotions toward that rhetorical question were ten percent mixed and ninety percent indifferent. Benjamin Quinn wasn’t as crooked as they came but wasn’t straight, either. At social events like these, avoiding him was a better option.
“Likewise,” I replied, shaking his hand firmly.
“Heard you were in town,” he pried, showcasing a cheeky grin. “I was looking forward to running into you here.”
“Oh?”
“To congratulate you, of course.”
“Oh.”
“In just a year, you’ve managed to make a name for yourself in the Big Apple. I’ve heard you’re the fiercest competition yet. There ain’t nothing Roman Varkov isn’t the best at: the corporate sector, building the empire, eliminating rivals, forging the most wicked alliances, and successfully pulling off high-stakes heists. To top it all off, cementing your reputation as the most ruthless and vicious amongst them all.”
Maria side-eyed me, and when I looked back, for the first time, I couldn’t read her.
I faced Benjamin, not impressed in the least. “You exaggerate.”
His chuckle was deep and throaty like a grandfather’s while he narrated tales to his grandkids, and he said, “You know I don’t, Roman.”
His eyes found Maria, and he wiped a hand across his jacket and waved it dismissively in the air. “Anyway, enough about your outstanding profile. Who’s the pretty lady?”
I snuck an arm around her waist, and she stiffened in my grasp. “This is Maria.”
Maria flashed a charming smile and extended her hand.
But I sensed her unease beneath it. This was new to her—being her and fusing with my world—and it showed. The conversation with Benjamin soon ended, and we met a few more people.
As we walked away from another introduction, Maria leaned in and whispered, “The old man seemed nice.”
I glanced at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of my lips.
“What’s so funny?”
The room fell silent as a blonde lady stepped onto the stage. Diamonds sparkled around her neck and ears, her designer gown shimmering in the light.
I picked two glasses of wine off a waiter’s tray and handed one to her.
With a graceful smile, the woman adjusted the microphone stand and took a deep breath, her voice soaring, a rich, velvety tone filling the room.
“The old man you speak of is Benjamin Quinn, and he is anything but nice.” I lifted the glass to my lips. “Back in the 1980s, he was notorious. Multiple charges of murder. First-degree, second-degree. Manslaughter….”
She gasped.
I took a sip from the glass. “Rape, embezzlement, espionage, sedition, trafficking….”
Maria squeaked in a small voice, “Trafficking?”
“Uh-huh.” Our gazes locked, and I saw the fear in her eyes. “Drugs and women.”
“Dear God!”
“He was a very big deal then. Had the big dogs in all the sectors under his thumb, controlling and manipulating. You didn’t want to mess with Benjamin Quinn. One wrong mention of his name could cost you a finger or tongue, depending on his mood.
“My father hated his guts. They were rivals at some point, and their clashes always turned out to be a fucking bloodbath.”
I gritted my teeth, remembering the times my father went absent for weeks, and when he finally got back, he’d retreat to his study and not say a word to me until days after. By then, news had already spread like rapid-fire across the city, broadcasting the aftermath of the ruins of their clash.
“To end this gruesome story, my father grew stronger and conquered more terrains, and of course, that included influence. When he was sure he had more allies on his side, he got Quinn kicked out of Chicago. And that’s how the nice old man lost his throne.”
Maria was quiet for a while before she spoke up. “Lovely story.”
It was quite the opposite. For a man that high to suddenly lose everything in a blink…. “Lovely, indeed. Turns out, he learned lessons the hard way, too. After losing most of his family, he settled for living a simpler life in the countryside, where he was incognito.”
I finished the wine in my glass and looked at her now, assessing the numerous expressions on her face. The switch was rapid: from horrified to empathetic and then perplexed.
“And you?” she started, and I braced myself.
I prepared myself for her inquisitions but never expected the bombshell she hesitantly dropped.
“Do you ever think you could lead a simpler life in the countryside?”