5. Rose
Rose
I take a swig of my water and check the clock, trying to figure out how much more of this day I have to get through—and just how much more I can put up with after the bullshit Ilya pulled with me earlier in the day.
At least I know for sure that I am pregnant now, as crazy as that is to say.
But for the time being, I have an even bigger problem to contend with: whether or not Petar is the father.
Because Ilya seems pretty fucking set on the idea that he is the one who brought this baby into the world, and I don’t know what it’s going to take for him to see that he is acting crazy.
"Are you sure you don’t want me to get you a seat?
" Becky calls from the other side of the store, watching me with obvious concern. She has been fussing over me at home and at work since I told her about the positive pregnancy tests. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times I try to convince her that I am just pregnant, not an invalid. She won’t let up.
“I’m fine,” I reply, but my head spins and I grasp for my water bottle again. Before I know it, Becky is at my side, a hand on my shoulder.
“Sorry, it’s just the blood draw earlier,” I tell her. “I get a little woozy after all of that.”
“Yeah, I would, too," she replies grimly, shaking her head. "I can’t believe that Ilya guy turned up like that with no warning. Are you sure Petar wouldn’t have sent him?"
I nod.
"Yeah, I’m sure," I reply, and I mean it. The way Ilya carried himself, it wasn’t as though he had been sent as a messenger. It was like he had every right to be standing there before me and telling me that he was the father of my child.
"You think he knows where you live?" she asks, lowering her voice as though he might have been listening to us right now.
"Uh, I have no idea, honestly," I confess. "He said he was pretty much tapping Petar’s phone, and I don’t know how much he might have seen about me back then."
"Or how much he might have gone looking for since."
I grimace slightly. Yeah, that’s something I have been trying my best not to think about, too.
At the drop of a hat, he could get his hands on pretty much anything he wants to know about me, and there is nothing I can do about it.
When he told me that he would be in touch soon, it sounded more like a threat than a promise, and I don’t even know if he realized it.
"Come on, go home." Becky encourages me. "I’ll cover for you. It’s not like there’s anyone in the store right now anyway--"
As if on cue, the bell rings, and both of us look up—to see Ilya striding in through the doorway, that same impassive look on his face, as though he has every right in the world to be there.
Becky notices how I stiffen when I see him and drops her voice to acknowledge the sudden shift.
"This him?"
I nod. "Yeah, this is him."
He makes his way over to the counter, and I roll my shoulders back, looking up at him.
"Can I help you with something?"
"When do you finish your shift?" he says.
"I’m not giving out my private information to you—"
"I have a car waiting outside," he tells me bluntly. "I’ll know when you finish. Easier for you to just tell me."
"No, it isn’t, Ilya, because I’m not going anywhere with you," I protest. "I don’t know what you’ve gotten into your head, but I’m not going to go along with it. I’m going back to my apartment, by myself—"
"That’s not a good idea."
I can tell that he is trying to restrain himself right now, trying to keep from giving away how pissed off he is, but I don’t give a damn.
I step out from behind the counter, ready to take him on, ready to really give him a piece of my mind.
Because what did he mean, coming in here, declaring that my baby was his with no proof, and practically dragging me out of work to go to his place when I have a perfectly good apartment of my own?
He must be crazy if he thinks I’m going to go along with that, even for a second.
"What makes you so sure of that?” I demand. "You need to go. Now. I’ve had enough of this—"
But before I can lay into him any further, the door to the back office opens, and out steps Tina. I freeze, already sensing her glower at the back of my head, the abject disgust she’s currently shooting my way for disturbing her.
“What’s going on out here?” she asks, stalking towards us.
Ilya immediately warms his face with a smile and turns to Tina, extending his hand.
"You must be the owner," he greets her. "Just the person I was looking for. Do you have somewhere private that we could talk? There’s a business matter I’d like to discuss with you."
Tina looks between the two of us, clearly not sure what to make of the situation. Slowly, though, she reaches out to take his hand and nods.
"Of course," she replies. "Right this way. My office is just through here."
Ilya shoots me another look just before he follows her inside. I swallow hard as I watch him go. Becky narrows her eyes at me, clearly as baffled as I am by the entire situation.
"What the heck is going on between you two?” she hisses, and I shake my head.
"I have no idea," I reply defensively. "It’s not like I told him where I work."
I look to the door, chewing my lip as I try to parse out what he might be doing in there.
I hardly want to know. What kind of business could he have to discuss with Tina, of all people?
I might not have known much about what he does for a living, but I got the feeling it wasn’t investing in boutique clothing stores.
I busy myself for a few minutes, trying to make myself useful as my mind rifles through the possibilities. By the time the door opens again, Tina looks surprised but not unhappy, and Ilya is wearing a grin that tells me he got his way.
"What did you do?" I ask him, not even sure I want to hear the answer.
He jerks his head towards the door. "Come on. We’re leaving. Now."
"I told you, I have a place of my own, Ilya!” I protest. "And besides, I have to work. I don’t want to lose my job—"
"Leave with me, or you’re fired."
"You can’t do that."
But then, I look between him and Tina, and it strikes me just what he was doing in that room with her. My jaw drops, shock coursing through me.
"You didn’t just buy this place, did you?" I ask him incredulously.
He shrugs. "What matters is that you answer to me now," he replies calmly. "Come with me, or you lose your job."
"This isn’t fair—"
"If you want, I’ll make sure everyone here loses their job," he tells me, taking a step closer. "You keep going back and forth on this, and I’ll shut this place down. Your friend losing her job, all because of you… you don’t want that, right?"
I stare at him, mouth agape. I can’t believe he would do something like this.
It just doesn’t make sense that this is the same man who saw me that night at the ball and whisked me off to safety the first chance he got.
The man who gave me pleasure unlike anything I have experienced in my life.
The man who made me feel things I didn’t even know I could.
The stony-faced creature standing before me now, threatening the people I care about just to get me to do what he wants, feels like he’s from another planet.
"Of course not," I blurt out. I look over at Becky, who looks just as shocked as me. I can’t do this to her. She has been my closest friend and roommate for so long. What kind of friend would I be if I let her lose her source of income?
All I have to do is leave with him. I don’t have to stay with him, no matter what he seems to have convinced himself of. He can’t keep me there forever.
At least, I don’t think he can.
"Okay, okay!" I cry out finally, holding my hands up. "I’ll go with you. Just to talk. Nothing more than that. Understand?"
He gestures to the door once more. "The car is waiting outside for you."
I glance back at Becky, silently trying to tell her that I will message her as soon as I get the chance, and grab my bag to hook it over my shoulder.
I don’t see what choice I have. He has backed me into a corner, and I can’t imagine that he’s going to make life any easier for me if I resist any more than I already have.
If his first move after not getting what he wanted was to buy my place of work, I can’t imagine how quickly he will escalate.
And I don’t want to find out just how far that could go.
Ilya holds the door open for me, then strides out ahead of me, opening the car door. He drives a sleek black vehicle with slightly tinted windows, as though he doesn’t want anyone to see inside. Maybe he’s safer that way, if people on the streets don’t realize who’s behind the wheel of that car.
I slip into the passenger seat as he takes the driver’s side. For a brief second, my senses are filled with the scent of his aftershave, the same scent that permeated my entire body when he was inside me. My cheeks flush, and I turn towards the window, hoping he doesn’t notice.
The last thing I need right now is to think about how attracted to him I am. Because things are complicated enough as it is without letting my desire get in the way.