11. Tatiana
TATIANA
I llias watched me with a peculiar look in his eyes.
I caught a glimpse of the two of us in the mirror. Me, only wearing his shirt and my bare legs on full display. Him, suited up, looking every bit the Pakhan he was. My hair was a disheveled mess while my husband's appearance was pristine.
He sat me on the counter, and I watched him move swiftly around the bathroom. He turned on the water, the sound of it filling the bathroom. Illias reached over and retrieved a bath product.
Just as he was about to pour it in, I stopped him.
“Whose bottle is that?” I asked, motioning to the bottle in his hand.
“It’s yours.” He shook his head as if amused by the display of jealousy. I wasn’t jealous but damn if I’d use another woman’s product. “It was delivered along with the clothes. Everything is new - and yours, Tatiana.”
“Well then. You can pour it in.” I started unbuttoning my shirt, discarding it onto the floor. Heat in his gaze flared and my body instantly responded.
“You must have been a queen in your previous life,” he muttered, dumping its contents into the tub. The scent of roses drifted through the air. Several faucets filled the large tub that could easily house ten people and the two of us watched in silence as the water filled the tub.
“Aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” I asked shamelessly. I realized it made me sound slightly desperate. Oh well. I might as well enjoy the benefits of being married.
“No.”
I didn’t care to evaluate the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. So I just slid off the counter and swayed my hips as I made my way to the tub.
“Your loss,” I murmured as I passed by him.
His hand lightly tapped my ass. “Tease. Get in the tub.”
He helped to lower me into the tub and the moment I was submerged a deep sigh left me.
“This feels good,” I exhaled. He leaned over and for a moment I hoped he’d join me, but he just reached behind me and shut off the tap. Then he sat at the edge of the tub while I soaked in the bubbles.
The silence after the constant rush of water was sudden. Somehow overwhelming. But not uncomfortable. After months of pushing and pulling, it still seemed odd to find myself here. In his home. In Russia. Freaking married to him.
Somehow the idea of our marriage wasn’t repulsive. It had to be the great sex. Not the best basis for marriage, but it was at least something. Well, there was also a child growing in my belly.
My chest warmed. Our baby wasn’t exactly planned, but I already felt a connection with her.
Or maybe it was him. It didn’t matter, as long as he or she was healthy.
I placed the palm on my lower belly and rubbed it gently.
I had already purchased pregnancy books and started reading up on anything and everything about pregnancy and the first year of our baby’s life.
Illias removed his jacket and hung it on the towel hanger, then undid his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Gosh, I loved Illias’ hands. They were so strong and veiny. Rough, yet they could bring so much pleasure.
He lowered down to a crouch beside me and slid his hand in the water.
“What are you doing?” He didn’t answer as his fingers started massaging my shoulders. His strong fingers rubbed circles down my back, then up again, loosening muscles on my upper back and shoulders.
I tilted my head to the side to give him better access, a low moan filling the air. With horror I realized it was mine, but I couldn’t help how good it felt.
“I read that a massage is good during pregnancy,” he remarked, his voice deep.
I sighed in pleasure. “I certainly agree,” I murmured. “Where did you read that?”
“American Pregnancy Association.” My eyes fluttered closed as my muscles loosened with every passing second his fingers expertly worked on me. “They warned about massaging the belly, but indicated prenatal massage therapy can help reduce anxiety and stress.”
He rubbed long circles with a tenderness and sure, firm movements. “Well, Illias. If you ever want to give up your career as the Pakhan, you will succeed as a masseuse.”
I watched him through my heavy lids and caught the corner of his lips tipped up. He was gorgeous when he half-smiled. I feared when he actually smiled, he’d send me into a spiral.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“What else did you read?” I inquired.
“You need a lot of sleep in your first trimester.” His hand came around and slowly trailed down my neck. “No stress.” He flattened his palm over my racing, hard-breathing heart. “No alcohol.”
I stiffened, meeting his gaze fully. “I haven’t had any for months.”
He nodded. “I know.”
“I forgot you’re a stalker,” I muttered under my breath.
“Only with you,” I thought I heard him say, but I couldn’t be certain. My eyes traveled over the luxurious bathroom. Black marble was stark against white walls and white fixtures.
“When will we go back to the States?” I asked, still studying every corner of the bathroom. There wasn’t much to see, but maybe I avoided drowning in Illias’ darkness. It was slowly pulling me under, and I feared where it’d take me.
There were still many secrets between us. As fucked up as it was, I was okay with certain morally grey methods of our world. But I wasn’t okay with killing innocents. Killing women and children. Vasili always said there was somewhere where we had to draw a line.
“We just got here,” he responded as he got to his feet. He pulled out a clean towel and dried his hands on it with firm movements.
My brows furrowed but then I remembered what I’d asked him. I didn’t expect him really to give me a concrete date but a general timeframe would be nice. No matter. He wouldn’t succeed in keeping me captive - wife or no wife.
“The woman in the video… is that your sister?” I changed the subject, addressing the elephant in the room. We had to talk about it eventually. Might as well do it now. “Did you stage it for some reason?”
“No.”
The one-word answer grated on my nerves, but it was his expression that concerned me. I could practically see his walls going up. The calmness and coldness in his expression would shake a newbie to this world. I was well aware Illias was dangerous, a ruthless killer.
But he wanted our baby. He wanted me. For now at least.
“Do you know that the spousal testimonial privilege precludes one spouse from testifying against the other spouse in criminal proceedings?”
His darkened eyes hold mine in a cage.
“I did know that.” Of course he knew that. “But that video was never meant for your eyes.”
“And yet, I’ve seen it.” Frustration welled inside me, but unlike Sasha, I wasn’t always impulsive. Once in a while, I choose my words carefully. “If we are to trust each other, we should start somewhere. Shouldn’t we?”
That pop from the video when he pulled the trigger played in my mind. I could almost hear it in this silence between us.
“She was Isla’s mother.” I held my breath and my heart thundered against my ribs. “My father took her from somewhere. Some whorehouse. She was barely sixteen. He brought her here because she was pregnant with Isla. One night, he went to her room, ready to beat her then rape her, and I lost it.”
“You killed him?” I rasped, my ears buzzing.
“I did,” he admitted, leaning against the column that stood closest to the tub.
“You’re the only person alive who knows it.
Boris suspects it, but he doesn’t know for sure.
Since my mother’s death, he hasn't been right up here.” He tapped his temple, then folded his arms across his chest. “Well, Isla’s mother wasn’t right up there either.
I don’t know if my father broke her or something else. ”
“Jesus,” I muttered.
“When she gave birth, I hoped she’d focus on the baby,” Illias continued.
“She didn’t. She didn’t bother giving her a name.
She didn’t bother feeding her. But she did try to kill my sister.
” I gasped, my heart clenching at hearing those words.
It made me feel for Isla more. No wonder he kept her protected and sheltered.
“Once, I caught her trying to smother my baby sister. Another time, she tried to drown her. It got so bad that I couldn’t leave her alone in the room with Isla.
My tipping point was when she took Maxim’s gun and tried to shoot the baby. ”
I leaned over the tub and took his hand into mine. “No wonder you killed her.”
“I killed her the same night.”
The story shook me up. But there was a relief that came with it in the knowledge.
It was a testament to Illias’ code. After all, he saved his sister.
While my brothers didn’t kill our mother, they certainly didn’t save her either.
In fact, I had no doubt that if Vasili was the one who caught our mother trying to kill me alongside herself, he would have killed her too.
“Does she know?” I whispered the question, but deep down I knew the answer. He had been protecting her from everything. I was certain he’d protect her from this knowledge too. Just as Sasha protected me from mine.
“No.”
His admission filled the air.
“I got a cell phone delivered a while back,” I started quietly. “I don’t know who sent it but when I opened it a video started playing.”
Illias visibly stiffened. “What was the video about?”
His voice was slightly off. Almost worried. But his expression never changed.
I swallowed. “The video showed Sasha killing someone. Strangling a man. No clue who that guy was but it freaked me out.” I took a lungful of air and then slowly exhaled.
“That wasn’t the worst part. At the end of it, Adrian made a comment about erasing the video.
Yet, there it was. The damn video playing right there in front of me.
” I shook my head. “I don’t think he erased it, but I don’t know why. He and my brothers were so close.”