Chapter Two
Tatiana
T he luxurious estate of Gregor Polov...
The moment she said the words, she knew she had gone too far. The shift in Jarek’s demeanor came with lethal swiftness. One moment, he stood across the room; the next, he had Tatiana pinned against the wall, his hand a steel band around her throat. The perfect facade of civilization was stripped away, revealing the violence that had always lurked beneath.
But besides Tatiana’s heart breaking, so did her fear. The pieces of her shattered dreams crystallized into rage with clarifying sharpness. She met his gaze steadily, even as his fingers constricted her airway. Let him see the truth in her eyes. Tatiana Polov wasn’t his puppet or his bargaining chip and fucking least of all, his docile wife.
Her grandparents’ voices rose in horror behind them, but she kept her focus on Jarek’s face. The careful mask had slipped and revealed a savageness in his steel-gray eyes.
Good. Let him show his true fucking nature.
“Ah, there he is.” Her words sounded ragged as she struggled to breathe. “The real Jarek Farrel, or is it the Dark One?” His fingers tightened, but she continued, using each word as a weapon. “No matter how many times you tell yourself you purely created the Dark One for revenge, this proves you’ve gone beyond that. You are no better than Gregor Polov, Jarek.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw as his control fractured further. Tatiana didn’t flinch, nor did she struggle and claw at his hand tightening around her throat. No, she wanted him to feel her defiance in every steady breath she managed.
“In fact, you are worse. He at least doesn’t hide his true nature from all of you in the criminal world...” She watched the impact of her words land. “You? Well, you are the great pretender, aren’t you? The Dark One... pretending to be a good man seeking vengeance, while in reality, all you are is the remnants of a good man who has become rotten to the core.”
His hand trembled against her throat—not from weakness, but from barely contained fury.
“Ah, poor baby,” she snickered. “The perfect businessman, the calculated revenge-seeker, stripped bare by the truth his just-acquired wife spoke.”
Tatiana reveled in his anger. It was time he realized she wasn’t a lovesick little girl. She might have become his wife, believing in his passion, but now she would be his enemy, matching every inch of his hatred.
“Don’t you ever use that tone about my wife and daughter again, Tatiana!” The words cut through the air as his eyes darkened to obsidian. The raw pain beneath his rage transformed his handsome features into what she imagined was the devil incarnate. “They are sacred and too good for the likes of anyone bearing the name Polov.”
His voice conveyed the darkness of hell itself as each syllable dripped with a gloominess that seemed to dim the very lights in the room. His fingers constricted further, and Tatiana felt consciousness beginning to slip away as dark spots danced at the edge of her vision. Just when the world started to fade, he released her.
Her legs gave out, and she crumpled to the floor with her throat burning. She dragged in ragged breaths. Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around her as if to offer protection, but Tatiana kept her eyes locked on Jarek.
“And yet the Polov blood will flow in the child you wish to father.” Her lip curled into a contemptuous snarl as her eyes narrowed to glacial slits. “I suggest you remember that I am your wife now, Jarek.” Her words thinned to gossamer threads of sound, woven with such quiet venom that they penetrated deeper than any shout. “And as such, I’d like to remind you about the clause I added to our supposed marriage contract. It seems I wasn’t that lost to the world in love with you. The one thing that voids your clause... ah,” she laughed gaily. “I see you do remember.”
Tatiana had always maintained that she would never stay in an abusive relationship and had retained enough sanity to include an addendum clause in their contract that stipulated any abuse would result in the immediate dissolution of the marriage.
“ Blyat’! ” Gregor checked Tatiana’s throat. “Did he hurt you, vnuchka ?”
“Whether he hurt me is irrelevant, Dedushka . What he did was abuse, in view of witnesses.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Gregor’s voice thundered through the room with decades of command lending it power. His weathered face transformed from shock to murderous rage in the space of a heartbeat.
When Jarek took a predatory step forward, Gregor’s movement was pure instinct and a reflection of the fluid grace of a man who had survived decades in Russia’s criminal underbelly. The shoulder holster released his weapon with practiced ease, and the black metal became an extension of his arm as he leveled it at Jarek’s chest.
“Not another step, Farrel.” The words dropped like ice into the tension-filled air. “Husband or not, Dark One be damned, I will fucking shoot you.”
His aim remained unwavering. The cold fury in his eyes promised death with the calculated violence of a man who had built an empire on carefully chosen kills. Tatiana stared in shock, witnessing his transformation for the first time. The grandfather was gone; in his place stood the notorious Gregor Polov. She realized now why it was said his name made hardened criminals flinch.
Tatiana forced her trembling legs to cooperate as she used the wall for support to pull herself upright. Her throat burned with each breath, but she managed to cross the space to the two men facing off against each other. Her hand found her grandfather’s arm.
“There has been enough death, Dedushka .” Her voice was hoarse but firm. “I will not be the reason another is added. It ends here.”
“You are right.” Gregor’s face contorted with a fury that stripped away his usual sophisticated veneer. “It ends here. This farce will be over within twenty-four hours.” He spat the words loaded with contempt at Jarek. “By tomorrow this time, the marriage will be annulled.”
“And then what, Tatiana?” Jarek snickered. “You go back to your life, waiting for the next old fart your grandfather lines up to marry you and take over your business for his own financial gain? Don’t bother shaking your head. You might have legal measures in place to protect your assets, but you know as well as I do that Gregor Polov allows no one and nothing to stand in his way... including Barto Petrov.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve had enough. Get out of my house, you fucking lunatic!” Gregor was quickly losing control.
“What did he tell you? That Petrov decided against the marriage? That—”
“He had no choice,” Gregor interjected angrily. “You fucking cut off his finger and threatened him with much worse if he didn’t. You are the reason...”
“Yes?” Jarek’s eyebrow twitched upward as Gregor’s words drifted off. “I am the reason for what? For the excuse you needed to kill him? To have Skull slice him like a piece of beef until he bled to death...” He pointed to the lake. “Right there, in the underground bunker, where no one could hear his screams.” His gaze darkened as he looked at Tatiana.
“When are you going to realize you are nothing more than an opportunity to him, Tatiana? Why do you think he didn’t balk when you decided to go into logistics? Because he respected your choices? Get the fuck off the naivety train, my dear wife. All you are to him is a tool to use in his desire for ever-expanding his riches through the deaths of those who believe they have no other way to survive but sniffing and pumping their veins full of the crap he supplies at top dollar.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Gregor exploded as he waved the gun menacingly in Jarek’s face.
“Eventually, you will lose everything, Tatiana. Everyone who stands in his way always does... like your uncle.” Raw savagery reshaped Jarek’s expression. “Ask him how Nikolai Polov really died... not the version he sold to the world.”
“What is he talking about?” The words fell from Tatiana’s lips like shards of broken glass. Already pale from Jarek’s assault, her face drained of what little color remained. The room threatened to tilt on its axis as her mind struggled to process this new betrayal. She had adored Uncle Nikolai. He was always her protector, her confidant, the one who had taught her to ride horses and sneak extra desserts when her grandmother wasn’t looking.
“ Babushka ?” Her gaze swung to Elizabeth. Something in her grandmother’s expression made her stomach clench. The usually composed woman’s hands fluttered like trapped birds as her perfect posture visibly cracked under the burden of long-held secrets.
“He’s lying,” Elizabeth’s voice had a desperate edge that Tatiana had never heard before. Her eyes darted nervously between Tatiana and Jarek. “Can't you see, my darling? He’s trying to put a wedge between us.”
But Tatiana saw it now; it was impossible to miss. Her grandmother’s perfectly manicured hands trembled, and she couldn’t quite meet her eyes. The forced lightness in her tone rang false after years of genuine warmth. The realization hit Tatiana with physical force and turned her blood to ice in her veins.
Elizabeth Polov, the woman who had been her safe harbor, her moral compass, knew more than she was letting on. The foundation of trust that had supported Tatiana’s entire life cracked further, leaving her adrift in a sea of lies. Every childhood memory was now cast in shadows, hiding darker truths behind the perfect facade of family devotion.
The world she had known was unraveling thread by thread, leaving her surrounded by strangers wearing familiar faces.
“Since they obviously won’t be honest, let me be the bearer of bad news.” Jarek ignored Gregor, who lifted the gun warningly. “Why do you think Petrov had such a hold over Gregor? Your uncle had been trying to clean up the Polovskaya Bratva for years. Gregor made him believe they were moving toward only white-collar crime. When he realized he had been lying to him for years, he had enough. He was about to walk out.” His jaw locked.
“Except no one ever walks away from the Bratva and lives to talk about it. Gregor feared that Nikolai would go to the Feds and oust him. Petrov was his firing gun who took him out. Your uncle didn’t have an accident, Tatiana. He was shot through the head, assassin-style, and dumped in the shark-infested seas of Hawaii.”
“He’s lying!” Elizabeth sneered. “Do not listen to him, Tatiana.”
The truth of Jarek’s accusation solidified in the silent tableau before her. It wasn’t in his words, but it was written in the minute details of her grandparents’ reactions. Those tiny tells that decades of familiarity had taught her to read.
It was Gregor who confirmed everything. The proud set of his shoulders crumpled, and color leached from his features, leaving behind a gray pallor that aged him twenty years in moments. His eyes held a haunted quality she had never seen before. This wasn’t the reaction of a man facing baseless accusations. This was guilt made flesh and decades of carefully buried secrets clawing their way to the surface.
“My parents,” she snapped in a husky voice as a dormant suspicion surfaced. “Where are they?”
“We don’t know,” Elizabeth said. “That is the truth, my darling.”
“I would take anything they say with a bag of salt,” Jarek said, keeping his gaze locked on her. “It’s time to make a choice, Tatiana. Stay here or leave with me. I might not love you, but you will never be in danger of losing TAP United Logistics. You will live a good life where you make your own decisions.”
“As long as I give you what you want, right? Just how is that different from Deduschka’s methods, Jarek? Making my own decisions? How gullible do you think I am? Gregor Polov pulling the string of the puppet that is Tatiana Polov or you doing the exact same thing using even darker methods?”
Even as she said the words, the realization settling in her gut felt like lead. Her world hadn’t just tilted—it had shattered completely. She was left standing in the ruins of everything she had believed to be true. All her childhood memories and what she had believed to be the love of a wonderful man... all of it now cast shadows over her future. The foundation of her life had been built on quicksand, and it was slowly sucking her under.
“You already had plans in place to move out of Atlanta before we became involved, Tatiana. If you trusted your grandfather, you wouldn’t have done that. Instead, you placed your future in the hands of Bolton Enterprises.” He lifted his shoulders. “I invested in your future growth already and have no intention of withdrawing that support. In fact, I will do everything in my power to ensure success.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I own Bolton Enterprises.”
“You... we’ve been doing business with Bolton for over five years.” Something vital collapsed inside her. The void that replaced her heart wasn’t despair—it was absence, a complete cessation of hope and faith that left her hollow. At that moment, Tatiana Polov’s dreams of the future ceased to exist, leaving behind only the empty architecture of what she had believed her life would become. “You’ve entrenched yourself in my life for the past five years... and I didn’t know.”
“What do you want me to say, Tatiana? You were always the target... the one pawn I knew would cripple Gregor when I demanded the debt be paid... because you are his only weakness.”
“And in your demented assertion, some debts can never be forgiven, right?”
“Some debts can only be paid in blood.” His expression turned cruel. “If you insist on not honoring the payment, I am more than willing to change the terms and conditions.” With his hands in his pockets, he continued in a dulcet-toned voice. “So, what’s it going to be? You leave here with me as my wife, or stay, lose everything you worked for, and bury your grandfather’s bloodless body... because that’s what I’ll do. I’ll physically bleed him dry... like my family did on that sidewalk twenty years ago.”
Solitude crushed her like a physical weight as each breath became an exercise in surviving absolute abandonment. The room might as well have been empty as she stood alone in a wasteland of betrayal, surrounded by strangers wearing the faces of those she had once loved. Jarek’s deception cut the deepest. The memory of every kiss was now tainted with the knowledge that his love had been a carefully crafted performance. Her grandparents... God, how blind I’ve been! Years of manipulation were masked as protection with lies wrapped in silk and served with morning tea.
“There’s one thing you forgot to take into account, Jarek.” Tatiana shook off her grandmother’s comforting hand.
The crushing realization of her own naivety nearly brought her to her knees. Every warning sign she had ignored, every red flag she had painted rose-colored, and every instinct she had silenced in the name of family loyalty now openly mocked her. She had been a puppet, dancing on strings she hadn’t even known existed, entertaining the very people who had orchestrated her downfall. The bitter taste of self-contempt filled her mouth. She hadn’t just been fooled; she had been complicit in her own destruction, too eager to believe in fairy tales to see the wolves beneath the sheep’s clothing.
“Pray tell, wife,” Jarek’s cynical voice cut through the air.
With tears blurring her vision, Tatiana forced her lips into a brittle smile. She might be on her knees, but she wasn’t broken. His violent reaction earlier had revealed more than he intended—she now knew the depth of his wounds and the festering of his grief. She had touched a nerve and found the raw spot in his armor of control.
Good. Now I know where to aim.
“Some souls can never be saved, and you, my dear husband... just stepped over that line.”