23. Clarissa #2
Sam looks up as we enter, her face breaking into a wide smile. “Clarissa!” she exclaims, rising to her feet with a warmth that instantly calms me. “I hope my brother didn’t scare you,” she adds, shooting Gavriil a playful yet reproachful glance. “I’m so glad you could make it.”
As I step forward to embrace my friend, an unsettling sensation settles in my chest. I’ve walked into something more than a casual social call.
The air in the room hums with an energy I can’t quite place, and the presence of both Gavriil and Alexei only deepens my sense that a much bigger story is unfolding before me.
Whatever reason Samara has for bringing me here, I have a feeling that it’s about to shift the ground beneath me. And as I think of Kaisner, of the secrets I’m keeping, and the questions burning inside me, I wonder if I’m ready for any more changes at all.
“Make yourself at home,” Gavriil says, a rare warmth lingering under his usual gruffness. Without another word, he turns and leaves the parlor.
Alexei Morozov rises from his seat, his movements fluid and predatory, carrying an air of danger that sends a chill through me. He approaches with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, extending a hand in greeting.
“Lady Clarissa,” he says, his voice a rich baritone that fills the room like smoke. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
Before I can respond, he takes my hand with a grip that is firm and lingering.
In one smooth motion, he draws me closer, leaning in for the customary air kiss on both cheeks.
His cologne, a heady blend of sandalwood and something darker, surrounds me.
His beard scratches my skin, and a shiver skitters down my spine.
Whether it’s discomfort or something else, I can’t quite tell.
“Alexei is a dear friend of the family,” Sam interjects warmly as he releases me. “Our alliance with the Morozovs goes way back— to the dawn of the Imperial era.” She speaks the words playfully, but they’re fully intended.
I step back slightly, gathering my composure. Alexei’s gaze is cool, calculating, and I can’t help but think he’s sizing me up, his eyes sharp with determination.
“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Morozov,” I manage, my voice betraying the dryness in my throat. I smooth my sweater nervously, a habit I can’t seem to shake.
“Call me Alexei,” he insists, his tone detached. “May I call you Clarissa?”
“Please do,” I reply, offering a warm but cautious smile, still keeping my guard up.
“We were just discussing our shared passion for the arts and the upcoming gala at the Galerie Lumière,” he continues.
“Samara mentioned her friend runs the place. Imagine my delight when I learned that such a friend was… you.” He flashes me a charming smile.
“Perhaps you might be able to help us secure invitations?”
A surge of pride swells inside me at the mention of the gallery, but I force myself to remain composed. “Oh, I wouldn’t say I run the place,” I demur, smiling modestly. “But I’d be happy to arrange invitations for you both.”
Alexei’s smile widens, a calculated glint in his eyes. “That’s very kind of you.” He glances at his wristwatch with a barely concealed air of impatience. “My dear ladies, I’m afraid I’ve got to run—I’m expected at the Greniers’.”
“Not the Greniers? Oh, I pity you,” Sam teases with a playful smile.
Alexei cracks a handsome grin, but as he turns to me, his expression shifts, his lips curling into a smile that lacks any warmth. “I do hope we’ll be seeing more of each other, Clarissa. A few of us are planning to check out that new club, éclipse, tonight. Would you care to join us?”
Something flickers in Alexei’s eyes—interest? Calculation? I can’t tell.
“We’d be delighted!” Sam says, her voice light with enthusiasm. “It’s been ages since I’ve gotten a taste of the city’s nightlife.”
With a final nod to us both, Alexei excuses himself. As soon as the door clicks shut behind him, Samara spins toward me, her features packed with barely contained excitement.
“You’ve made quite an impression on our dear Alexei,” she says. “The second he found out about our connection, he practically begged me to call you down here—and he’s not the begging kind.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks. “He seems... nice,” I reply, unsure how to respond to the sudden attention.
Samara’s expression shifts quickly, her excitement fading into concern. “All right, spill it,” she demands. “What happened at the opera? You went by yourself, then bailed in the middle of the second act? What the hell was that all about?”
“You’ve heard, huh?” I murmur with half a shrug.
“ Everyone did,” she replies dryly.
The pressure of the past few weeks crashes down on me all at once. I sink into one of the plush armchairs, suddenly recognizing the exhaustion in my bones. “It’s... complicated, Sam.”
Samara settles across from me, her gaze unwavering. “Complicated how? Clarissa, you know you can tell me anything. No secrets between us , remember?”
I take a deep breath, bracing myself. The diamond pendant around my neck feels like a stone, heavy against my skin. “I... I wasn’t alone at the opera.”
Samara’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh?”
“I was with...” I hesitate, knowing that once I say his name, there’s no going back. “I was with Kaisner.”
A deafening silence falls in the room. The air shifts as shock, concern, and something akin to fear flicker across Sam’s face. “So it’s true, then?” she whispers, her voice barely a breath. “Someone mentioned it to me last week, but I dismissed it as a rumor.”
And just like that, the dam breaks. Weeks of pent-up emotions flood out in a rush.
I tell her everything—my electric connection with Kaisner from the very first moment, the intensity that burned between us, the kiss at the opera that had me reeling.
My voice cracks as I describe the sudden, painful way he left, the silence that has stretched on since.
“I don’t know what to think,” I manage, the tears pressing at the back of my eyes. “Was it all a game to him? Did any of it mean anything at all?”
Samara shifts closer, pulling me into her arms. “Oh, my dearest,” she murmurs, her voice soft but heavy with sympathy. “I had no idea you were going through all this.”
I lean into her, finally letting the tears fall.
They streak down my cheeks, hot and unrelenting, each one carrying with it a bit of the pain and confusion I’ve been holding inside.
“Sam, I can’t stop thinking about him, but I haven’t heard a single word from him.
What if... what if I imagined it all? What if I’m just another conquest to him? ”
Samara gently strokes my hair, her touch a balm to my frayed nerves. “I’ve never seen you like this about anyone,” she murmurs. “Listen to me, Clarissa. Whatever happened between you and Kaisner, it was real. I’m sure of it.”
I sniffle, wiping at my eyes, unable to stop the tears. “But why hasn’t he contacted me?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admits, her demeanor gentle but resolved.
“But Kaisner Drachenstein is a powerful man, with a lot on his plate. You mentioned he was being targeted by his enemies the last time you saw him—so maybe that’s why he’s been radio silent?
Maybe... maybe there’s more going on than we know. ”
A soothing stillness embraces us for a moment, the soft ticking of an ornate clock on the mantle the only sound.
“Clarissa,” Samara says finally, her tone serious, as if considering each word carefully. “I love you, and I’ll support you no matter what. But... Kaisner is dangerous. The Drachensteins have a reputation, and it’s not a kind one. Please, promise me you’ll be careful.”
I nod, gratitude and stubborn defiance swirling inside me. Kaisner may be dangerous, but there’s so much more to him than that. I’m certain. I have to be.
“I promise,” I say. “And Sam? Please don’t say anything to Nik. He’d lose his mind if he knew.”
She winces at the sudden realization. “Shit, you’re right. Nik is going to hate this. He absolutely loathes that family.”
“I know...” I breathe, the tears threatening to spill over again.
Samara mimics zipping her lips. “Your secret is safe with me. Now,” she says, a mischievous glint flashing in her eyes, “You need a night out. Let’s take Alexei up on his offer and hit éclipse this weekend. He’s a great chaperone, we can trust him. It’ll do you good to let loose a little.”
Despite my emotional exhaustion, a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “You know what?” I sniff, wiping away the last of my tears. “That sounds perfect.”
As we start making plans, a burden slowly lifts from my shoulders. I may not have answers about Kaisner, but for now, that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m not alone. With friends like Samara by my side, I can face anything.