27. Tatiana
27
TATIANA
M y heart continues to hammer against my ribs even after my breathing goes back to normal. I can’t believe how close that was. I really thought for a second that he saw the pregnancy test before I got it into the waste bin. I’ll have to remember to dispose of it more permanently once he’s gone. But I don’t think I’m going to calm down until I can get him out of the bedroom completely.
“What did you have planned for the rest of the day? I mean—what did you really have planned, because you didn’t come home early just to be with me,” I qualify, unable to look away from Lucian as he keeps my jaw trapped between his fingers.
It should not arouse me like it does—especially when we just finished having sex, but I can’t deny the fact that I like it when Lucian takes command of my body. He does it so gently and at the same time, with such strength and authority, I can’t just brush him off. It’s his way of demanding my attention, of taking what he wants, and it excites me more than I’d like to admit that what he wants is me .
What is wrong with me?
I’m a tangled knot of emotions, a hormonal mess of a woman—probably because I’m pregnant, I’m just now realizing—and yet, when Lucian touches me all that noise just…melts away. He makes it feel like we’re the only two people in the room, the only two people that matter. But I have another person who matters more now. I have to fight the urge to bring my palm to my belly as soon as I think about it, and my skin grows feverish as I realize that what we just did in this bathroom is exactly why I’m in this mess.
“Why wouldn’t I come home early to be with my wife?” Lucian asks, a hint of defensiveness coming into his tone, and it makes my heart flutter.
“Because…I haven’t been particularly pleasant to be around lately?” I suggest. “I should know. I made sure of it.”
Lucian gives a soft snort as he releases my face. “You had your reasons.”
“And those reasons had absolutely no merit?” I press, watching his face closely for any kind of tell.
But it’s the same reaction he’s had every time I reopen the festering wound—a flash of hurt, followed by a deep sadness before he schools his features back into a look of insufferable patience. “None at all. But as long as we’re on the subject, I do have something to talk to you about.”
My stomach knots at the way he links it to my suspicions about his betrayal, but I try to push the connection from my mind. I really need to get him out of the bathroom before he accidentally finds something I really don’t want him to find.
“Shall we discuss it over an early dinner?” I suggest. “I’m starving.”
Lucian’s hazel eyes light, the caramel coming out behind the green as he smiles. “I could eat.”
“Good, because I asked Daniella to prepare us a favorite of mine.” Finger combing my hair, I dare to take a step away from the bathroom counter, hoping Lucian will follow me. I’m relieved when I glance over my shoulder at him to find he’s just a few steps behind me.
“Oh? And what’s that?”
“Beef bourguignon.”
“I can’t say I’ve had it before,” he says, taking three long strides to catch up to me.
“Then you’re in for a treat. I gave her the recipe my family’s old chef used to make.” I try to ignore the feeling of my dress’s silk lining brushing across the exposed flesh of my body where my panties and bra would usually cover me as I walk, chin held high like everything Lucian does—or makes me do—doesn’t have some massive effect on me.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Daniella says, peeking into the smaller dining room just minutes after we enter. “But I opened a nice bottle of burgundy to go with your meal.”
My stomach knots as I realize my first hurdle with keeping my pregnancy a secret. Usually, I have a glass of wine with dinner, but I don’t think I should if it might hurt the baby.
“Thanks, Daniella,” Lucian says, and I quickly train my features into an affable smile.
As soon as she leaves, Lucian raises his glass of wine in a toast, and I clink mine against his. But rather than taking a sip, I only bring the glass to my lips, tipping it enough to make it look like I’m drinking. Then I set it back on the table.
Silence settles between us as Lucian’s gaze travels toward the window, and he looks lost in thought. My pulse quickens as I wonder if he might not have seen the pregnancy test after all.
“Something wrong?” I ask lightly, though I can feel the panic starting to creep in.
“Hmm?” His eyes snap back to mine. “Oh, no. I just…I had another meeting with Saturo Takumi today.”
Rather than scolding him again, I bite my tongue. I’m glad Lucian’s at least being open about his business plans, even when I’m not ready to discuss Bratva matters with him. I know it’s not fair, especially when I’m not willing to consider any major business arrangement involving our two families. But I really don’t like the idea of him striking a deal with Saturo, and if he’s going to go through with it, I would rather know every gritty detail.
“What did he say?”
“It was mostly about the logistics of the plan. He intends to bring a cargo carrier across the East River to the main port I ship in and out of. I guess the buyer is insisting I be there, so Saturo will bring men and I’ll have mine to help load while we finish the business end of the deal.”
“You’re letting yakuza men into your cargo holds?” I ask, the hair raising on the back of my neck. “That’s putting a lot of trust in Saturo, isn’t it?”
“Not really. I’ll have the order isolated near the docks—a warehouse away from my main operations, and I’ll double the guard around the rest of the storage.” Lucian shrugs before taking another sip of wine.
God, what I wouldn’t give to indulge in a buzz right about now, but I resist the urge to grab my wine glass. “Don’t do it, Lucian. Please. No deal is worth the risk of having to rely on Saturo.”
“I can’t just continue to sit on my product either, Tatiana. I have more than I know what to do with. Business is booming with the cartels, and I have a solid source of revenue if I can sort out the distribution end. But if I can’t move the product, then I’m a sitting duck. You know that as well as I do. I can’t store that kind of contraband forever. If I get raided by port authorities, I’m done for. Look, you and I—either we’ll work out a deal on our own, or we won’t. But I don’t want this to be contingent on a business arrangement.”
Lucian gestures between us, as if referring to our relationship, and it makes my heart squeeze to hear him say it. Clearly, he was banking on us doing business together. He was confident enough in it that he made a deal with the cartels, and now he has to move what sounds like a considerable amount of product if he’s going to maintain that new supply source and not get caught.
It’s a massive sign of trust that he would tell me about it. I could easily turn around and alert authorities to what he’s sitting on if I were willing to stoop that low for revenge. He’d likely end up in prison for a very long time. But the thought of being the person to put Lucian behind bars feels like lead in my stomach.
And now that he’s explained exactly what’s on the line, I can see why he’s tempted to take the deal. Releasing a heavy breath, I take a drink of my water. “If you’re going to go through with it regardless of my warning, we should at least prepare for the worst possible scenario. On the night of the exchange, my men and I will stand by as backup in case Saturo tries to betray you—which he will,” I add, giving Lucian a pointed look.
“Really? You would do that for me?” He sounds surprisingly touched by my plan, his dark eyebrows raising as his hazel eyes study my face.
“Well…yeah. I can’t just let my husband go waltzing into a trap, can I? What kind of mafia wife would that make me?”
The smile that spreads across Lucian’s face steals my breath away, and he rises from his seat to lean across the table and kiss me passionately. “Thank you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly along my cheek as he pulls back just enough to meet my gaze.
Heat floods my body at the sincerity of his gratitude—like my concern for his safety means more to him than any potential business strategy I might suggest. I have to admit, now that the offer is out there—before I could overthink the implications behind it—being on the same side as Lucian feels good. Despite our history, we really could make a good team. He has the drive and ambition for bold business, and I have the levelheadedness and foresight to see the pitfalls.
I know Lucian’s a good businessman and an excellent strategist. He probably doesn’t need me there to help him. But the fact that he wants me there, that he appreciates my willingness to back him up means a lot to me too. As a woman in our world, I’ve never assumed I would get recognition. I knew I would have to fight tooth and nail for every ounce of respect I earn.
But with Lucian, it’s like that’s one of the things he saw in me from the start. He wanted me for a business partner, even before he made me his bride. Still, he was willing to set aside those hopes and find a new way to move his product because I have stubbornly refused to cooperate with him in any way I can—and he didn’t want to hurt our personal connection by forcing me to help him.
I just don’t understand this impossible man. He’s terrifying and brutal—emotionally removed from the pain he causes, like he doesn’t even understand the repercussion of his actions. And yet, everything he’s done, everything he’s said since the day we got married would suggest that deep down, he is a good man. It leaves me more torn than ever about whether or not I should tell him about the baby and embrace this life with him that I’ve been fighting for so long.