Chapter 31 - Tatiana
If Kon thought he wore me out and I’d lay around in bed all day, forgetting what we talked about last night, he was wrong. I barely laid around for five minutes, running my hand over the rumpled pillow beside me, gathering it close to breathe in Kon’s scent.
What was I doing? I shouldn’t have been having any kind of feelings involving the way he smelled like spring rain and expensive cologne at the same time, or letting it invoke such primal urges.
The thing I should have wanted to do immediately was find him and demand we talk about my involvement in finding Papa.
Not smile into a pillow while having all sorts of memories that made my whole body blush.
That man knew exactly how to turn me into mush. It was time to regain that steel spine I supposedly had. Looking outside before I ran to my own room to get dressed, it looked to be a lovely day, as usual. It seemed to be against the law to have bad weather here.
My closet was empty, and I retraced my steps to the bedroom Kon had taken as his own, the smile fixed firmly to my face. Somehow, he managed to move all my things while I was still asleep, making good on his command that I’d be sleeping with him from now on.
Like the glorious weather, I couldn’t get mad about it.
I found him at the breakfast nook overlooking the back patio, a steaming mug of coffee halfway to his lips.
Pausing in the doorway, I took him in. He took up so much of the cozy space, dominating most of the round table with his laptop, tablet, and an ignored plate of toast. He had a slight scowl marring his forehead, and there was a bit of stubble on his strong jaw.
His t-shirt and baggy sweatpants were endearing when I was used to seeing him in designer suits, all buttoned up but never able to diminish his broad shoulders or towering height.
His biceps were on full display, a hand I had grown to know so well wrapped around the coffee mug. What those fingers could do to me. He looked up and smiled, catching me gawking. Putting down his mug, he stretched and yawned, raising his arms over his head to reveal a few inches of washboard abs.
Showing off.
As soon as I had a cup of coffee in my own hand, I sat down across from him.
“All business, I see,” he said, not referring to my twirly blue sundress at all, but the expression on my face.
“Yes. I want to see my phone. You can watch me the whole time, hover over my shoulder if you want. But I need to see if Papa’s been trying to contact me.”
“I expected as much,” he said, but didn’t frown or even scowl any harder than normal. “And to put your mind at ease about one thing, I’ve been checking the phone regularly. There’ve been no messages from Grigor or his assistant.”
My shoulders slumped. “That doesn’t mean anything,” I said, trying to convince myself.
“It could mean they’re trying to keep me safe.
Papa always thought ignorance was bliss where I was concerned.
But not anymore. I want to message him. His assistant, too, and any other people who might know something. ”
“Not happening,” he said. “Some of the members of the Yakuza already know you’re with me.”
“But they don’t have any clue where we’re at, you said so yourself yesterday. You were pretty smug about it.”
Now the scowl lines deepened over his brows. “If you start contacting people and asking questions, they’ll know you’re involved and redouble their efforts.”
He stopped, holding up his hand so he could think in silence. I held my breath to keep a flood of arguments from spilling out. At least he was taking me seriously by not shutting me down altogether.
“I can just send messages under the guise of a worried daughter,” I said when his silence stretched out too long. He had nothing, he knew it, and was stalling. “We’re at the end of a tunnel. If we can’t turn around, we have to start digging.”
His lip quirked up. “Even if it’s one of our graves? They’ll go into overdrive trying to find you. Not going to happen. Unless…”
His eyes lit up, and it was like I could read his mind. “Unless we tell them where I’m at,” I said, with an exhilarated rush. “Right? And then I can try to contact Papa?”
Reaching over the table, he pulled me across his uneaten toast to give me a hearty kiss. “We’ll see about that. But first we’ve got to put on a show.”
The next few days were a whirlwind of activity, and I was in the center of it all. There was no more holding back, no more rushing out of the house without explanations or goodbyes, and no more secrets. We were in perfect sync.
Kon enlisted one of his cousins’ wives to help out.
In fact, she was the key player in our little game.
Daria was tough as nails, having been born into a crime family, raised in hiding, then forcefully reenlisted by her cruel brother to try to bring down the Fokin family.
The plan was a huge bust once she fell in love with Ivan, who helped her finally break free from her brother.
Ivan wasn’t too keen on the plan at first, since there would be a modicum of danger involved for Daria, but she convinced him she wanted to help, admitting that things were getting a little tame in their lives.
“Oh, really?” Ivan asked as we discussed strategy. “We’ll see about that when I meet you in Moscow.”
So it was settled. With a wig that matched my hair color and style, Daria was bundled onto one of the Fokins’ private jets in the dead of night by Kon and a couple of his guards. After a few carefully placed information slips, he was confident the Yakuza would believe I had returned to Moscow.
As soon as Daria arrived there, she’d ditch the disguise and be taken into hiding with her husband, who seemed to have a good time planned for her.
It was sweet seeing them treat this serious operation like a chance for a second honeymoon, and I had to admit I was having the time of my life, too, during the planning.
Maybe if I had insisted on getting involved with my father’s activities instead of letting him shelter me, things would be different. I had proven by now that I was capable, and being in the Bratva was actually thrilling.
It was so much fun that I started feeling guilty once Kon returned from the airport and told me we’d have to wait and see if the Yakuza fell for it and started searching for me there.
As for Kon, he made sure a few people started reporting sightings of him back in LA the next day, and the day after that, he surprised me with a whoop and a big hug, twirling me around.
“A whole group of the Yakuza is converging on Moscow right now,” he said. “And Aleks said they’re swarming my old haunts in LA, too. It worked. We’re free and clear, for a while at least.”
I laughed along with him and accepted a glass of champagne, though when the tart, fizzy wine hit my tongue, it came with another slap of guilt. Here I was having the time of my life while my father was still in danger.
“Don’t,” Kon said, reading my sudden tension. “This was all necessary to continue with the plan. We’re doing all we can.” He took me in his arms and then pulled away with a grin. “You know what we can do now that all our enemies are searching for us miles away?”
“Anything we want,” I said, forcing a smile since he was so triumphant and sure. I wanted some of that, too.
We ended up at a swanky nightclub, all neon lights and thumping beats.
The drinks were wildly expensive and delicious, and the draw of the dance floor was too much to resist. Kon was sexier than I ever believed possible, and I already thought he was the hottest man on the planet.
It was quite a silly crush, but why not let it help erase all my lingering fears?
His eyes never left me as he pulled me close, our bodies grinding along with the beats, my tiny black dress riding up my thighs.
“How about we head to a private area?” he asked, leading me to the less crowded edge of the dance floor. His eyes held a wicked promise, and my imagination went into giddy overdrive about what he had in mind once we were alone in this hedonist place.
“I’m dying of thirst,” I said. The bar was only a few yards away, and once I was settled against a pillar, he headed to get us more drinks.
I kept my eyes on him the whole time, wondering how many of his secretive guards were watching me devour him with my eyes. The view was just as nice when he turned to order. Definitely the hottest man here, by miles. The younger guys couldn’t hold a candle to him.
A hard tug on my arm had me whipping around to the other side of the pillar. A man who was so drunk that he swayed on his feet, breathed his beery breath on me as he yanked me close to his sweaty body. “Let’s dance.”
“No,” I said, jerking my arm, but he held it tighter, fingers digging into my bone.
“Don’t be like that. Come on. Let’s have some fun.”
Instead of dragging me toward the dance floor, he pulled me away from it, surprisingly strong despite being so inebriated. I stumbled forward, crashing into him, and he put his arm around me.
“That’s more like it.”
A darkened corner of the club loomed before us, his arm locked around my shoulder, his fingers once more digging into my flesh.
Everything winked out of focus and I was back in the nightmare again, but this time wide awake.
The loud music turned to jeers and laughter.
It wasn’t just one drunk man, but a group of people who hated me.
They were going to hurt me all over again.
Blank with fear, I kicked out blindly, the angry yelp of the drunk breaking through my fog. But we were still heading toward that dark place.
Until the man was on the floor, blood gushing from his nose. “Stay down or I’ll break your arm next,” Kon said, putting his foot on the man’s chest. He turned to me. “Are you okay?”
I nodded and shook my head at the same time. Now warm, safe arms were around me, leading me out of the noise and darkness. As soon as we were out of the club, Kon pulled me into a hug.
“I’m fine,” I said, but the truth was revealed when I burst into tears.