Chapter 9 – Blair
All through the night, I could barely get some sleep. Why? Because the memory of our dinner together wouldn’t stop playing in my head. It wasn’t the questions he asked or the way he watched me with quiet intensity, and that kept me up all night.
It was the way he made me feel when he stepped into my space. I shrank beneath his gaze, my pulse quickened, and my chest tightened. I recognized that unsettling feeling, and even though I hadn’t admitted it yet, I knew if I didn’t tread with caution, he just might use that against me.
I hated how much influence he had over me, how easily he played with my emotions. He stirred a flutter in my chest, and a sudden rush of blood made my veins throb. Just looking at him, I felt a shiver run down my spine and a tingling feeling between my legs.
He turned me on without even trying, and I felt so embarrassed—so ashamed of myself that I had to leave his presence immediately. I was afraid that if I spent one more moment around him, he might make a reckless move, and I might not have been able to control myself.
It wouldn’t have been a case of forced entry because I would’ve given my consent. It was way too early to fall for his seduction—besides, I should be repulsed by the mere thought of being intimate with a man like him.
He was cruel, mean, and ruthless. His place was behind bars, not between my legs. That was a fact; one that had been ringing loudly at the back of my mind since last night.
Be smart about this, Blair. He might be using you, a voice murmured in my head.
But with everything going on in my head—my plans to finally get rid of him—who exactly was using whom in this situation? What was he using me for anyway?
He bought me from my kidnappers at a price no one dared mention.
He fed me, cleaned me up, and restricted my movement within his estate.
But that was it. This man didn’t sell me off to someone else, didn’t turn me into a maid, or even attempt to take me by force.
He let me do as I pleased, and his only rule was to never cross the estate’s gates without his permission.
At this point, I couldn’t help questioning some things. Why was I here? What was my purpose in this place? Why did he decide to buy me, since it was crystal clear that he didn’t need me for anything in his life?
Maybe he was right when he said you’re better off with him and with any one of those pigs, said another voice. Maybe he bought you just to keep you safe.
That sounded a lot like an act of kindness, but men like him were incapable of kindness. He was a Mafia boss, a ruthless leader involved in numerous crimes. Kindness was not his strong suit.
He did say that his organization had no part in human trafficking.
He was a monster, a criminal, and a liar—of course, he’d deny it. And even if his organization didn’t deal in such crimes—which was highly debatable—they were still actively involved in others.
Like which one?
My brain went blank for a moment.
The voice continued, You claim he’s guilty of other crimes, yet you haven’t found anything concrete to use against him.
He was guilty; I just couldn’t prove it yet!
And why the fuck was a part of me questioning my mission? He was a bad man, and bad men should all end up behind bars. Period.
If you truly want to put him away so badly, then why does your heart skip each time you think about him? The voice went ahead to add, Why do you harbor illicit thoughts and enjoy imagining what his touch would feel like?
Being attracted to someone attractive was a natural human behavior. It wasn’t that deep. So what if I found him sexy? So what if a part of me craved his touch? It didn’t mean anything other than the fact that I had an itch that needed scratching.
On second thought, maybe instead of feeling guilty about my attraction to him, I should use this to my own advantage. He was messing with me, seducing me because to him, this was some kind of game—one he was in control of.
The quickest and most effective way to discover the truth was through the weapon between my legs. I shouldn’t be the one to be seduced in this situation—it was an embarrassment to me and to womanhood. I should be the seductress causing him to spin his head and crave me every day.
He should be the one shrinking beneath my gaze, the one lusting after my body. Despite his signature flat expression, I had glimpsed glimpses of sexual fire burning in his eyes more than once. He was as attracted to me as I was to him.
Since the feeling was mutual, it would be best to weaponize it. That way, I’d kill two birds with one stone—I’d have my way with him and still squeeze the truth out of him. I was going to use his sexual hunger against him, and once I was satisfied, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
Damn, that’s cold. With this plan, you’re no different from the monsters you loathe.
The words stung me like a bee, but it was a necessary evil. Sometimes, the best way to beat a criminal at his game was to be a criminal yourself. We weren’t the same—he enjoyed being evil. I, on the other hand, only decided to tear a page from the monsters’ guide to bring a monster to justice.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that.
That instant, a soft knock on the door snapped me out of my thoughts—and I almost jumped out of my skin. I took a moment to get a grip of myself, then cleared my throat, wondering who was outside my room. This was the first time anyone had come knocking, and I had no idea what to expect.
“Who is it?” I called out, rising from the bed I’d been lying on this whole time.
“Katerina, ma’am!” a feminine voice answered.
Must be one of the maids.
I headed to the door and quietly opened it.
There she was, standing across from me in her black and white dress with her black hair piled up into a neat bun.
Beside her were two other women—one was another maid, and she was holding a plastic garment bag.
The other, I didn’t recognize. She stood tall, a makeup kit in hand.
“Sorry to bother you, ma’am,” Katerina said to me, barely holding my gaze, her voice thick with the Russian accent. “Gospodin Tarasov asked us to get you ready.”
My brows arched, a glint of confusion flickering in my gaze. “Ready for what?”
The maid hesitated, almost as though she thought I should’ve been informed about whatever this was beforehand.
“He wishes to take you out.”
He wishes to do what now?
That explained the lady with the make-up kit and the maid holding the plastic garment bag. He planned on taking me out to God-knows-where, and he didn’t even ask me first. Not that I would’ve declined anyway—it would be nice to breathe some fresh air after being trapped in here for so long.
“May we come in?” she asked me, her tone mild and polite.
I managed to squeeze out a smile. “Yeah. Sure. Of course.” I stepped away from the door, and they walked inside, one after the other.
They moved quietly, the makeup artist setting up her things as I watched in silence. I wondered what he was up to and where he was taking me tonight.
It took about three hours to finish getting me ready—and when they were done with me, even I didn’t recognize myself. The dress clung to my body like a second skin, outlining my curves and contours. The makeup was simple but classy, and it blended seamlessly with my skin tone.
My soft brown curls were swept into an elegant chignon atop my head—neat and refined. A pair of heels graced my feet, making me look inches taller. My nails were groomed, manicured on the hands, and pedicured on the toes.
When I looked in the full-length mirror, it was like looking at a whole new person.
Beautiful. Sexy. Elegant in every way. The dress was a bit more revealing than I was comfortable with.
It had a daring slit that grazed high against my thighs and a neckline that showcased my cleavage, leaving little to the imagination.
This outfit was gorgeous. But it wasn’t my idea.
“You look stunning,” the maid said to me, her cheeks flushing as he locked eyes with me.
“Thank you, Katerina.” I beamed at her, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles on the dress.
“Gospodin Tarasov will be pleased,” she added, mirroring my smile.
I’m sure he will.
“Where is he?” I asked her.
“He’s waiting downstairs,” she said. “I’ll tell him you’ll be down shortly.”
Her gaze swept over my body one more time before she signaled the makeup artist and the other maid. Quietly, they exited the room in a single file.
Left alone, I heaved a sigh, watching my reflection in the mirror. I couldn’t help admiring the breathtaking transformation from a regular girl to a gorgeous goddess. The makeup artist outdid herself on this one and deserved a bonus for a job well done.
This was going to be my first night out with Nikolai Tarasov. And although I had no idea what to expect, I was glad to finally see the world beyond the gates of the estate.
Could this be classified as a date or what? Where was he even taking me?
I drew a deep breath. “Relax, girl. It’s just some harmless time out. What could possibly go wrong?”
Uh, a lot! a voice answered in my head. Have you not seen a Hollywood movie before? Every time someone says that, something terrible always happens.
Good thing this was reality, then. I had nothing to worry about.
That was how I shoved the negative thought to the back of my mind and headed downstairs.
At first, there was no shift in his expression when he saw me. But when I drew closer to him, I watched his brows slowly and discreetly rise, as if stunned by my appearance.
He was dressed in a sharp, perfectly tailored black suit, with his short dark hair styled flawlessly for the first time. Weird.
Nik’s hair was always slightly tousled, often slicked back with no care. But tonight, it was different—a good different—and if I didn’t know better, I’d think he did that to impress me.
And are you impressed?
Maybe I was.