Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
Daisy
I hated Ilya Popovitch.
That was it; I hated him. More specifically, I hated everything he was doing to me. Sure, he hadn’t touched me since that night in his office. Sometimes I thought it would be better if he did. At least if we were intimate, it would give all this hostility an outlet.
All we had now were filthy looks, sharp cruel jibes at each other, and what seemed like the endless line of beautiful women he brought back to the apartment once Alec was in bed for the night.
And they were all the opposite of me. Beautiful, polished, refined-looking women who should have graced the covers of glossy magazines.
He made sure I saw them, and if by some miracle I missed their arrival, he sure as hell made sure I heard them.
I heard every single filthy thing he did. How he moaned their names and they screamed his. Because he wanted me to hear, and he wanted me to suffer.
Although suffer didn’t even come close to how it made me feel. I didn’t expect us to forgive and forget and act like a couple. I didn’t even expect us to be friends, but I did want a little respect.
That asshole had absolutely none for me.
And I was beginning to have even less back.
So yeah, I hated him.
The only thing that stopped me walking out the door was Alec, whose room was luckily soundproof, because how else did he sleep through all the sex his father was having all over the apartment?
Sighing, I stared out at the rain pelting down against the tall floor-to-ceiling windows. Rain was kind of apt for the mood I was in.
Getting out of this apartment would help. I loved spending time with Alec; he was my entire world, but I hadn’t left the apartment by myself in the entire month I had been back.
Maybe if I could just speak to someone who wasn’t a six-year-old boy, his constantly angry father, or the men who worked for him, I’d feel better. Because right now I felt like I was being suffocated.
"What are you reading?" Ilya's gruff voice came from right behind me where I was curled up on the sectional. Jumping, I dropped the book into my lap with a little scream.
Lifting his eyebrow, he waited for me.
"An old textbook I found in the library. It’s a little outdated, but it’s kind of amazing—" I lifted it for him to see.
"I don’t really care."
I couldn’t help it. I rolled my eyes. "Then why did you ask?" Flicking it open, I went back to reading. Or at least pretending to read. I couldn’t concentrate on the words. They were all just useless, meaningless black shapes.
"I just didn’t expect you to be out here."
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a smile spread across his face. And I knew what that meant. He was about to have company.
Just great.
"I see." Gathering my book up, I untangled my limbs and stood. "I’d like to remind you that this is my night off, though."
His smile slipped. "Ah yes, you are just a—"
The elevator pinged.
"Yes, because that’s how you wanted it," I reminded him and headed towards the sanctuary of my room. I couldn’t believe he would do this. Not bringing random women back. He had done that a lot in the last few weeks, but bringing someone back when he knew it was my agreed night off.
"Daisy," he called out after me just as the most beautiful woman I had ever seen stepped out. Perfectly presented, her dark hair in loose waves around her heart-shaped face almost like the torrential rain hadn’t dared touch her.
I felt my heart twist. Now, she was the kind of woman a man like Ilya should be with.
"Hello." I lifted my hand in a friendly greeting that somehow didn’t sound fake at all. "Excuse me, I’ll give you two some privacy."
"Daisy," Ilya growled a warning again, and this time I did turn to him, my eyes flashing in a jealous rage that I had no right to feel. I couldn’t control what Ilya did. But I could control my reaction to it.
"I’ll be going out for the evening, Ilya. Have a good night." I nodded my head to both of them politely and almost ran to my room.
"Who is that?" I heard the second before I closed and locked my door. "Who is that, baby?"
I could almost imagine her laying her hand on his arm.
Ilya's sigh was loud. "Daisy, she is—well, she is Alexander’s—" another sigh and then he twisted the knife again, "nanny."
I didn’t know where I was going; all I knew was that if I had to spend one more night listening to Ilya bang another woman, then I was going to do something stupid. Like leave.
I would never leave Alec. Ilya would have to force me out, which was possibly what he was trying to do. Or maybe he just wanted me to hear everything so I’d lose it and run away.
At my sides, my fists clenched. Keeping my head down, I stomped along the New York street. I wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.
I had been gone from the city a long time, and so much had changed, but I was sure I could find a bar if I tried hard enough. Usually, I didn’t drink, but tonight it felt like I needed to.
Like clockwork, I saw a doorman dressed all in black let a group inside. Picking up my speed, I rushed towards him. "Hi."
He turned his face towards me, an angry sneer on it until he saw me, and then his sneer turned to a smile that lit up his whole face and made him a million times more handsome.
"Sure, honey." Easily he lifted the red rope and ushered me through. "Have a great night."
I nodded my thanks, slipping out of the rain and into the ultra-modern, clearly expensive wine bar.
The place wasn’t buzzing, but there were enough people sitting around tables to make me feel less alone. Not that I was here to make friends. How would I even introduce myself?
Hi, my name is Daisy. I have a Ph.D. in archaeology. Six years ago, I was paid to give birth to a gangster's baby, and that same monster is now fucking his way through New York City while I listen? Oh, did I forget to mention that we had sex just four weeks ago?
I rolled my eyes as I slipped onto the stool and shrugged out of my coat.
Yeah, that wasn’t going to make me any friends. The whole city knew who Ilya was. So I wasn’t here to make friends. I was just here to escape for a few hours. And maybe listening to other people’s happy conversations would make me feel a little less alone.
I doubted it, but anything was better than listening to Ilya go at it for the next few hours.
"White wine, please," I signaled the bartender, who, just like the doorman, greeted me with a wide smile. I knew I wasn’t a troll, but they were all so kind and flirty that I was beginning to think I looked good tonight.
A glass was pushed towards me; I thanked him, but I didn’t open up a conversation. I wasn’t here to flirt.
"Hi again."
Lifting my head, I stared at the doorman’s open, smiling face. "Hi." Over the rim of my glass, I studied him. "Thanks for letting me jump the queue back there." Another sip of the cold, tangy liquid.
"Believe me, the pleasure's all mine." Without waiting for an invitation, he sat next to me. Signaling for drinks with a flick of his fingers. "I haven’t seen you in here before."
"Do you remember all the women that come through those doors?"
Chuckling, he shook his head. "Not really, but the beautiful ones stick in my mind. And you are stunning."
I couldn’t help it; I blushed.
"See," he tucked his fingers under his own chin and grinned at me. "Fucking adorable."
He was definitely flirting with me. "Shouldn’t you be on the door?"
Beaming from ear to ear, he shook his head. "My name is Jac; I’m the owner of this here quaint establishment." Holding out a hand, he waited for me to take it. "I think they can handle the door without me."
"Nice to meet you," I said, quickly pulling my hand away.
"This is usually the time you share your name, honey?"
Blushing an even deeper red, I cleared my throat. "Daisy. And you’re right, I haven’t been here before. I only recently got back into town."
"And are you staying long?"
Shrugging, I went back to my drink.
"I see. So what brought you back? Family or a man?"
Now my face really did flame. "A little of both. My father died." My voice cracked.
God, how long had it been since I had grieved for him? Had I even grieved for him? Ilya coming upon me in the cemetery and me finally meeting my child had all but pushed all thoughts of my dad out of my mind.
Tears swam into my eyes, burning them.
"Oh God, honey, I’m sorry." Jac covered my hand with his, trapping it against the polished wood. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Again I shook my head, eyes wide so the tears didn’t fall down my face and spoil the little makeup I had on.
"You got it. We don’t need to talk about that! So what about this man?" His thumb brushed over the back of my hand. "Is this a current man or a past—" his chuckle was a little nervous.
"Past," I admitted.
"Ah, exes are the worst, aren’t they?"
I couldn’t help it; I threw my head back and laughed. "Yeah, he’s definitely the worst. You won’t get any arguments from me about that."
In fact, Ilya was the worst kind of man in the entire world. And I was the fool who had fallen in love with him.
"Glad to hear it because I think you are very, very beautiful."
I snatched my hand back from his. "I’m sorry, I’m not here to—"
"Neither am I," he cooed. "I just want to spend the evening talking to a pretty girl. No other motive, I promise."
Steadily, I stared at him, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. He looked like he was honest. But I wasn’t the best judge of character.
"Promise?"
He nodded, pressing his hand to his heart.
I must have looked like I wasn’t convinced because he laughed again. "Boy Scout's honor?"
"Were you even a Boy Scout?" I giggled.
"Well, no, but I’m telling you the truth. I’m not going to touch you unless you want me to. But you look like you need a drink or ten and a friendly ear."
Oh, I did need both of those things, and maybe the other thing as well. Ilya had moved on. Maybe it was time I did as well. And Jac was handsome and charming.
"Thank you," I finally said. "I’d like that."