Chapter 20 Wine Stained Voyeurism
Wine Stained Voyeurism
Mikko
Cristiano’s questions from earlier had taken root in his head, the words refusing to leave his mind. While Anika was far from a lover or crush, the way the words had pricked at his chest made him question everything. His need to protect his business was morphing into something else.
And it didn’t help that Levi, someone he trusted as far as he could throw him, was weaseling his way into her inbox.
It’d make his own sleuthing harder since there would be two witnesses to his prowling.
But this was a consequence of his own actions; maybe he could play it off to his benefit.
A faux gentleman pushing Anika right into Mikko’s arms.
Her stolen scarf sprawled across his bed in his penthouse spoke volumes…
In an attempt to clear his head, Mikko had left his residence after calling Cristiano, enjoying the cooler air as evening rolled in over the city.
And now, his motorcycle rumbled beneath him, the feeling of the wind erasing some of the doubt sprouting in his head. Mikko had lost track of time, the minutes slipping by until dusk settled itself above him and the wind he braced against became too cold to bear.
Downshifting, Mikko focused on the gas station up ahead, his evening rides draining his tank. If only it depleted the thoughts in his head just as fast.
The bright lights in the overhang made him squint even though his tinted visor dulled the illumination greatly. Pulling up to a pump, Mikko tried to keep his thoughts on the task in front of him. If he didn’t, his mind would return to the place he didn’t want.
Anika. Her house, her scent, her scarf. Her friend interrupting my search. Levi…
He’d do anything to prove Cristiano wrong, starting with forgetting about Anika, but it was clear she was a threat. So, he needed to cut her open and see what spilled out.
I won’t be distracted, he vowed.
Mikko’s father always taught him to keep his head clear and his anger restricted behind an internal wall. And most days he succeeded, careful while he worked and callous to most horrors.
“Rational thought is your best weapon. A clear head is a sharp tool, one that will flay angry men from their bones,” his father articulated in a past memory.
Lately, though, that control had been slipping. An emotion akin to curiosity simmered beneath the surface of his skin, fueled by whatever Mikko saw in her. It was something he hadn’t felt in a long time. A diversion, something to occupy his mind when the weight of work became too much.
An anomaly. Someone who might want to dismantle everything Romanov Real Estate stood for if the clues Mikko was collecting spoke to her end goals.
His mind ran through ideas and schemes, each one darker than the last. There were many twisted routes they could go, all of them spurred on by the idea of proving her wrong.
Proving Cristiano and Levi wrong.
And proving to himself he was above such temptations.
He wasn’t obsessed with Anika, he was annoyed.
* * *
THE BLINKING RED dot on the map on his phone indicated Levi was at one of their usual restaurants: The Stuffed Pepper.
Treating our clients well, no doubt, he thought.
Despite the anger in his chest, Mikko encouraged Levi to grow closer to Anika, to persuade her into buying one of their other properties. There were other places her hoax of a leather goods manufacturing job could occupy. He’d spew just about anything that would keep her nearby.
Either way, walking into the restaurant—the warm glow of the interior doing little to thaw his growing ire—became difficult the closer he got.
Clutching his helmet with frozen hands he peered through the glass.
Mikko could see Levi, his elbows casually propped on the table as he listened to Anika.
And even though her back was to him, he knew her silhouette as much as he loathed to admit it.
Shaking his head clear of the thoughts, he gripped the sleek handle of the entry door and slipped in.
The soft din of cutlery and the faint conversations bleeding into one another greeted him.
The light was comfortable inside, bright enough to see by, but still dim to cultivate an elevated yet intimate atmosphere.
Deep leather booths framed the outer edges of the eatery, people in various stages of their meals and unwinding after a day at work.
Again, his eyes found Anika’s back. Even though her dress covered her skin, he could picture it regardless.
Everything about her was becoming second nature to him.
He could faintly recall the ink etched there along her spine, and the way her toned muscles contracted when she walked away that night in Bubblegum.
“Good evening, sir,” the hostess said, bringing his attention back to the front of the restaurant. “The usual?”
Nodding, he let her lead him to one of his favorite tables, his chilled hands finally warming after his evening ride.
This place was a frequent stop of his, the food consistent and the color palette relaxing.
Pendant lights accented certain tables while others were lit only by candle votives clustered in the center.
Tall ferns fluttered in the furnace’s breeze, the verdant color softening the harsh edges of the rich colors throughout.
Adjusting his hold on his helmet, he desperately tried to avert his gaze from Anika’s lithe back. Instead, it landed on Levi, honing in on how he was talking to Anika, eyes sly and hands inching closer to her folded ones.
The sight should’ve pleased him, Levi taking his role seriously. It wasn’t uncommon for Mikko and his business partners to wine and dine clients, but this was more personal.
In the end, Mikko did what he did best: sat back and let the events unfold before him.
Long ago he’d worked through the ranks and done the dirty work.
Sometimes the stench of a bloated body rolling around in the back of his getaway vehicle still haunted him.
Or the times he’d had to shower multiple times to get all the blood and viscera off his body and out of his hair.
Now, Levi and his other men handled those occurrences.
It was unwise of him to creep much closer; she couldn’t discover his curiosity before he had her pinned right where he wanted her.
But, damn, envy was one hell of a bitch.
His eyes flicked to the way she grasped the dainty stem of her wine glass, fingernails painted a deep scarlet to match her dress.
One lipstick print already littered the rim, giving him a visual of the color painted on her lips without him even having to see her face.
Clenching his jaw, he tore his eyes from her and Levi, determined to play his own part—a devoted eavesdropper.
To his delight, Levi didn’t even look at him as he passed, pretending Mikko was just another patron. For tonight, he was, but oh, how he yearned to see if Anika’s gaze snapped to him. A small part of him hoped his cologne wafted to her nose, inviting her into a game of his own.
It hadn’t hurt his case when he’d texted Levi beforehand, warning him to remain focused on Anika. No additional questions had been asked, his employee content to drown in her aura.
“Here you go,” the hostess stated, motioning for him to sit. With no other choice, he nodded politely and settled in for the evening. A couple rows of tables separated him from Anika, but he could still see her.
God, this is dangerous.
And he loved it.
* * *
TWO LONG HOURS went by. The moments of Anika and Levi settling into their own manicured comfortability burned into his mind.
Sipping on vodka, Mikko’s eyes tracked Levi’s playful grins and touches.
The flirtatious laughter and flushed faces made Mikko’s blood boil.
Sometime over the course of their dinner, Levi had waved Anika over, persuading her to sit next to him on the same side of the booth.
It annoyed Mikko, but it allowed him to look at Anika unobstructed.
She was tucked into the side closest to the wall, sheltered from the outside world.
As if she needed that.
Mikko was getting the sense she could flay men alive with their own words and actions if needed.
The whole night was a double edged sword, proving to reaffirm his notions of staying home and refusing to linger in public for longer than necessary. It reminded him how alone he was, forever an outsider.
Levi was good at what he did, his stereotypical attractive appearance appealing to many women—Anika included from the look of it—and it was why Mikko had let him to weave his way into Anika’s life so they could learn more about her.
She played with the rings on her fingers, nail polish glinting in the low light. Occasionally, she tucked fallen strands of ebony hair back behind her ear, sharp eyeliner matching her observant eyes.
Although, she hadn’t so much as even looked over at his dark corner.
Shifting in his seat, another wave of anger washed over Mikko.
No longer was he upset about Levi’s advances—a small lie, perhaps—but he was triggered by her blatant disregard of him.
Attempting to leash his sporadic emotions, Mikko forced himself to sit and watch.
This was an interaction he’d designed nonetheless; time to suck it up and deal with the consequences.
But while Levi entwined himself with Anika, Mikko found himself wishing it was him. It should be him learning more about her, baiting her into revealing more about herself than she originally intended.
Not Levi.
She’d chosen him.
An inexplicable need to carve a place for himself into her life overcame him, an obsessive thought linked to his need for control.
Mikko wanted to be all she thought about, a haunting apparition preventing her from sleeping, from living as though he didn’t exist after she’d taunted him.
He wanted to be the one afflicting her mind as she talked and kissed Levi.
The hot and cold treatment she’d given him was confusing, tempting, and he wanted answers.