Chapter 19 #2
Have what under control? I want to ask. Something has been off all day today. I have sensed it since the moment I caught Kirill staring at me in the solarium. Even Yana, who I thought I had figured out, was now somehow acting colder and quieter than usual as I feel her eyes baring down on me.
“Ah, this must be the new Mrs. Pavlovich,” a man says as my thoughts churn.
I look up, putting on another smile, but it hitches a little when I see Yana step up close to the man.
“Hello, Ivan,” Viktoryia says sweetly up to the handsome, middle-aged black-haired man. “Yes, it is. This is Annika Pavlovich. Annika, this is Ivan Gulkin. He is very important to our family.”
“Hello,” I say, but Ivan’s intense stare has me feeling more than a little uncomfortable.
“Beautiful,” Ivan states, taking his time looking me over. “I can see now why my Maria was passed up.”
I feel another shiver go down my spine, but I do my best not to show it.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Ivanka, too. And Petra,” he just goes on, as if he either doesn’t hear me or genuinely doesn’t understand my confusion.
“Ivan.”
We all turn towards Kirill’s gruff tone, and I see that he, Edik, and Mihail have returned. Kirill’s blue eyes flash down toward me, and he breaks apart from the other two men to place a hand on my bare shoulder. I can’t help it, I’m immediately comforted by his touch.
Ivan smiles at Kirill then bends into a low, formal bow at the waist.
“Pakhan. I was just telling your lovely new bride-”
“You don’t need to tell her anything,” Kirill cuts him off, his tone just as sharp as before.
“I only meant that-”
“Jesus, Ivan, stop talking,” Pyotr says, announcing his presence.
He flops down in one of the chairs at our table, his glass of whiskey sloshing a bit as he grins fiendishly up at Ivan.
“You should go,” Pyotr says, then slurps loudly at his drink, “Before my brother feels the need to give you a lesson on manners.”
I watch as Ivan pales as he looks at the men surrounding him. Pyotr’s still giving him that maniac grin but Kirill, Edik, and Mikhail are all giving him an intense straight-faced stare.
“My deepest apologies,” Ivan apologizes.
“You apologize to my wife as well,” Kirill commands, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.
Ivan finally looks back at me and I catch the annoyance that glitters briefly in his eyes.
“My deepest apologies, Mrs. Pavlovich. I did not mean to offend you.”
I don’t believe him. Not for a second. I’m pretty sure that was exactly what he was trying to do before Kirill and the others came to the table. Still, I nod in acknowledgement, and then Mikhail and Edik are walking the man away.
“I’m sorry, Kirill,” Viktoryia apologizes as he takes a seat beside me.
“It’s not your fault, Viktoryia,” Kirill replies. His hand moves from my shoulder to my knee, and he gives it a squeeze.
“He is an offended man, but he has no right to speak to you like that,” he says to me.
I shake my head. “I still have no idea what he was talking about,” I tell him. “Who is Maria? Or Petra or Ivanka?”
“They were your competition, sweetheart,” Pyotr answers, leaning across the table from me.
“These families? They were all lining up their daughters like prized pigs for Kirill in hopes that he’d marry one of them.
But lucky for you, you were the one that got the ring and the little bun in the oven. ”
I gasp, realization dawning on me as Kirill reaches forward and grabs Pyotr by the collar.
“You will speak with respect or you will leave our presence,” Kirill growls at Pyotr. “Being my little brother only takes you so far, Pyotr.”
But already Pyotr is chuckling and putting his hands up.
“Easy, big brother. I’m not being disrespectful. I’m being honest! And I’m happy for you, truly.”
Pyotr turns his grin toward me and winks.
“I’m not upset, you know. That you were mine before. In fact I like the way it worked out. It gave me a chance to meet Valya. She is a very lovely girl.”
This strange evening is only getting stranger, and I feel my stomach clench as Kirill lets go of Pyotr.
“My sister?” I ask.
“We have a lot in common,” Pyotr answers, “I think fate stepped in.”
I want to ask more, but before I can, the auctioneer steps on stage and requests that everyone take their seats.
A few minutes later a plate of rare filet mignon, roasted asparagus and mushrooms, and butter boiled baby potatoes appear before me.
Suddenly I’m distracted by the savory aroma and the clenching in my stomach turns into a rumble.
“Eat, devochka,” Kirill commands tenderly as a knife and fork appear before me. “I took you away before supper. It’s important you don’t skip any meals.”
I catch his eyes as the auctioneer starts calling for the first bids, and I see that familiar sparkle that I can’t help but like. That look that says he wants me. More than wants me. Possesses me.
“You’re not eating?” I ask.
Fire crackles in Kirill’s eyes as he rakes his gaze down my body and focuses on my thighs.
“Oh, I will,” he promises. “I just prefer my meal to be in private.”
Heat blasts through my veins as I imagine what delicious things he plans to do with my body later, and I’m relieved that even though the day feels off, that didn’t mean we weren’t going to have our usual ending of explosive sex.
Knowing we need to keep putting on our show of a perfect couple, I lean forward and place a kiss on his cheek and purr, “Thank you darling.”
This earns me a genuine grin from my husband, and I can tell he’s pleased with my little show. He then points to the plate with his eyes, and I obediently pick up my knife and fork. As I eat, I watch and listen.
I had expected the items from the estate to be things like antique furniture and paintings- which there were a lot of- but I’m surprised at how much jewelry there is.
Beautiful, elegant, extravagantly expensive necklaces, rings, and earrings that no doubt at one time belonged to either a very rich or very spoiled woman.
With each new item I watch as dozens of numbered white paddles go silently up in the air, but every time Kirill’s paddle goes up, the bidding suddenly stops and he wins.
This continues on as I make my way through my delicious meal, and I’m starting to wonder what my new husband is doing buying all these expensive things for a mansion already filled with expensive things, when the most gorgeous necklace I’ve ever seen comes up for bid.
“And here, ladies and gentlemen we have a startling piece of finery suited only for the best of women. This gorgeous diamond necklace is vintage, created in 1920 under the commission of John D. Rockefeller for his wife, Abby. As you can see this necklace has three strings of diamonds. The white diamonds in the top and bottom string are one carat each and the main diamond in the center string here is a rare, four carat blue diamond,” the auctioneer explains, “Let us start the bidding at $100,000.”
I’m so distracted by the beauty of the necklace that I almost miss Kirill’s paddle going up, but I look around just in time to see the other paddles fall as they did before- except for Pyotr’s. He grins, not at Kirill, but at me, as he raises his paddle again.
“Do I have $150,000?” the auctioneer asks.
Kirill raises his paddle and the silence from the crowd breaks as Pyotr yells out “$200,000!”
“$200,000 do I have $250?”
Kirill raises his paddle.
“$300,000,” Pyotr calls out as he raises his paddle.
I feel the tension rise among our table, but no one speaks, no one looks at the brothers but me.
“$300,000, do I have $350?”
“$400,000,” Kirill calls out.
“$5!”
“$6!”
$600,000?!
“One million,” Kirill states, and my eyes go wide. His tone is calm, laid back as if he had just bet pennies and not a fortune.
I watch as he slides his gaze to Pyotr and raises a brow. Pyotr’s biting his lower lip as he shakes his head and chuckles, and he throws his paddle onto the table.
“$1,000,000, do I have a counter bid?” the auctioneer asks as the two brothers eye one another up. Silence answers.
“Going once, going twice.” The gavel hits, making me jump.
“Sold to Mr. Pavlovich for $1,000,000,” the auctioneer states. “Ladies and gentlemen that concludes our auction for the evening. Please see our accountant for the exchange of funds and merchandises, thank you.”
“Stay here,” Kirill whispers in my ear. “I will settle up and then we will go home.”
I’m still dazed by what just happened, but Pyotr only continues to grin at me.
“I should know better than to go up against my brother, I know,” he says with a shrug as he keeps looking at me. “He has more money than God.”
He pauses as his grin grows wider, making my stomach clench and threaten to bring up the delicious food I just enjoyed.
“But the funny thing is?” Pyotr says, “I just can’t help it.”