Chapter 9 - Konstantin
I was barely asleep for a few minutes when Tati’s scream tore me from my rest. That sound and the blind terror in her eyes when I burst into her room expecting to find someone attempting to murder her refused to leave my mind.
My adrenaline raced, and I was almost pissed that there wasn’t an enemy in her room that I could destroy.
It was like getting hit by a truck to find out the thing that caused her nightmare was me.
The events of the previous day unspooled before me as I watched her struggle to get herself together. Bravely trying to pretend she was perfectly fine, but her trembling hands and pale skin gave her true feelings away.
So much pale skin on display. She had finally gotten out of her ridiculous costume and had slept in her underwear.
Now the sheets she tried to keep wrapped around herself kept slipping, and my eyes refused to stay trained on her wide blue eyes as she told me that being tossed in a trunk obviously didn’t have any good side effects.
I probably could have stopped and talked with her, at least let her know it was me and not some masked lunatic. Perhaps I could have made her see reason and gotten her back on a plane to Moscow, but would she have been safe there? At the moment, I didn’t know who I could trust.
And I wouldn’t know what she was up to when she was out of my sight, or if she was in contact with her father. The main thing was having her where I could keep my eyes on her, and right now, I couldn’t stop doing that. Seriously, when did she become this beautiful?
Damn it. Not important.
When I returned with some tea to calm her nerves, she had regained some of her equilibrium, not so shaken up, but still shaky. And she’d put on an oversized robe she must have found in the bathroom, and the thick fabric swallowed her up.
Out of the clear blue, she brought up my eldest son, Mikhail, claiming she had a crush on him.
He was only about six years older than her, so it wouldn’t be unheard of.
He was the spitting image of me, and excelled at everything he ever tried to do.
Maybe she was trying to compliment me. Maybe the crush was real. Was it still alive?
Why the fuck was it suddenly so important to stamp it out?
There was no way the twist in my guts was from jealousy.
Impossible. It was only misplaced guilt at what she still perceived as a malicious act, when all I was doing was keeping her out of Riku’s hands.
Yes, I could have handled it better, but what was done was done.
She was safe now; that was all that mattered.
That and finding her father. Irritation at her revelation about Mikhail made my question about her father come out more harshly than I intended.
Tati turned into a fireball again, refusing to believe Grigor had done anything wrong.
Refusing to admit anything at all, her fierce and blind loyalty turned what was left of her fear from the nightmare into anger aimed straight at me.
Color infused her marble-white cheeks, making her blue eyes flash. Ignoring her restorative tea, she dragged her fingers through her tangle of chestnut hair, making it stand out like she’d been electrified. Leaning forward to hiss harsh words at me, her robe slipped open.
She was a freaking goddess.
Eyes up, Fokin, I told myself. Didn’t listen right away, and when she realized where my gaze had fallen for a brief moment, she jumped up, pointing toward the door.
“Get out,” she snapped, mumbling something else under her breath. Something that sounded like she couldn’t believe she ever wanted me to stay in the first place. But I had to be mistaken about that.
I stood as well, motioning toward her abandoned chair. “Sit down,” I told her. “And calm down. I’m not finished with my questions.”
She stayed standing, and her finger remained aimed at the door. She was anything but calm.
“Do you think by asking the same question in slightly different ways you’ll get me to slip up?” she asked. “Because I won’t. I can’t, because I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where Papa is or why he disappeared.”
“I’d say the million that’s missing from my bank account is the reason for that.”
She almost crackled with the pent-up rage that sent her hurtling toward me. “I don’t care about your money, because there’s no way in hell that Papa ever stole anything from you.”
Both of her palms slapped hard against my chest, her burning anger blazing through my t-shirt. She moaned in frustration when she couldn’t budge me, digging in her heels to shove me toward the door.
“Explain to me why you want anything to do with the Yakuza if you believe your father isn’t involved,” I said, stone-faced and unmoving.
“If he’s involved, it’s because of you. Because they wanted you dead. And now—” She shoved away from me and wrapped her arms around herself, losing her voice and beginning to shut down. “And now they might have taken out their grudge against you on him.”
She sank down into the chair, shaking her head and staring beyond me, refusing to accept that Grigor might already be dead.
Which he very well might be. And yes, it might have been because of me.
If not, he would be as soon as I found him.
No one stole from me. No one betrayed me like that.
If Grigor was working with the Yakuza, it would have been going on for a long time.
He might have been the reason behind the death threats against me.
He could have been the one to add me to their list.
Why didn’t I say any of that and put her in her place? The look of raw anguish distracted me from spitting out hard facts; the need to protect her was back. Even from her own feelings, apparently. And the damn robe had fallen open again.
Of course, she didn’t have anything to wear besides the costume she had on yesterday, ruined from the adventure I put her through.
“Where were you staying?” I asked.
Her head jerked up, and she snorted a laugh that was devoid of any mirth. Rolling her eyes, she refused to answer. So I didn’t tell her I only meant to send someone to retrieve her things so she could be more comfortable.
“What are you hiding there?” I asked instead. This young woman brought out the worst in me, so why did I care at all if she had clean clothes to change into?
“Of course you’d think I was hiding something,” she said, resolutely turning away. Disappointingly pulling the robe tightly closed around her again.
“Foolish girl,” I said, enjoying when she whipped her head back around to glare at me.
“Now you all but told me that you are.” We couldn’t seem to go five minutes without a fight, and yet I stubbornly wouldn’t tell her I was only trying to help.
She wouldn’t believe it anyway. “I don’t need you to tell me anything to find out. ”
Raising her chin, she sniffed. “You must need me for something. And it’ll be a cold day in hell before I ever give in to you.”
Hmm. What would it actually take to make Tati give in to me? And how much would I enjoy it? Too damn much for my own good. I gave her a long look, the thoughts I’d been trying to push away since I saw her on the street in her tight skirt, rushing back in. An impossible task.
Made all the more impossible when she didn’t back down, returning my glare with one of her own, though I doubted the same feelings were stirring behind hers. And that only added fuel to the fire.
No. Hell no.
Finally turning away, I left the room. There was no way I wanted that impertinent girl.