Tarnished Tyrant - A Mafia Romance

Chapter 27 Episode 27

Even though I should throw my water in his face and stormout, my stomach actually flips at the memory of what we’vedone. What I’ve let him do to me.

What I’d let him do to me again, if I’m being brutally honest.

“Is that why you followed me into that bathroom?” I ask.“Because you know everything? Did you look at me andthink,’‘That woman is desperate enough to f**k a stranger in aplane’? That’s probably the main way you score, right?”

“You did look desperate,” he remarks.

He laughs and continues. “Desperate for a little fun. Desperatefor a moment’s respite from the storm in your head. Desperatefor a breath you couldn’t catch, no matter how hard you tried.”

True on all accounts—shockingly true—though I’ll neveradmit it.

“And you thought you could help?” I say instead.

“I thought I was the one asking questions.”

Nikolai considers it for a moment and then shakes his head. “Iwant to learn about you, too.”

He arches a brow. “Do you really have such a low opinion ofyourself?”

“Of course not. What does that even mean?”

“You’re the one asking why I’d want to learn more aboutyou,” he says.

I frown. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

But now that he says it… that’s exactly how I meant it. I didn’tbelieve Nikolai would actually want to know anything aboutme. Why would he? He’s rich and successful. He has anexciting life, even if it is criminal. What would he want with apoor accountant from a broken family in a shithole town witha bratty teenager in tow?

“You apparently haven’t had many men interested in getting toknow you, I’d guess.”

“Because I’ve been busy,” I snap. “Taking care of my sister isa lot of work. You’ve met her; you know. I don’t have time foranything else.”

“You don’t have time for a life, you mean.”

“I’m reading between the lines, saying what you’re too afraidto,” he says. “But if I’m wrong, please tell me about all the

men you’ve dated in the last… oh, let’s be generous and sayfive years.”

I give him a tight-lipped grimace. “‘Generous’ is the last wordanyone would use to describe you.”

“Don’t get distracted, beautiful Belle. We’re talking aboutyou.”

“But it’s your name.” He winks at me and it feels like acheckmate. Whatever game we’re playing, I just lost.

I try to formulate a response, but I can’t think of one beforetwo orders of what look like soup dumplings are delivered toour table.

“Dumplings?” I ask, eyebrows raised. “I thought this was aRussian restaurant.”

“Georgian dumplings,” he clarifies. “They’re filled withspiced beef and broth. You’ll love them.” He scoops one of thedumplings out with a spoon and holds it out for me to eat.“Here.”

“Consider it your lucky day,” he says.

I want to refuse, but the food actually smells incredible. So Ilean forward and wrap my mouth around the spoon. As soonas I take a bite, the dumpling bursts in my mouth and I moan.The broth and the meat and the spices… it’s the best thing I’veever tasted, no contest.

I glance over at Nikolai. His eyes have darkened and his lipsare parted. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he’s asaffected by this whole situation as I am.

“That was incredible,” I murmur, dabbing the cloth napkin onthe corners of my mouth.

“It certainly was,” he agrees. “And I learned something newabout you.”

I snort. “And you can tell that because I ate a dumpling?”

“I can tell that because if you can make eating a dumplinglook sexy, you are more than capable of getting any man youwant.”

I’m shocked by his candor. Between his surprising warmth andthe delicious food, I feel my guard lowering despite my betterinstincts.

“You’d be surprised how many men are turned off byemotional baggage.” I scoop another dumpling off the plateand eat it. My eyes flutter closed as I savor it.

When I open them, Nikolai is watching me. “Trakhni menya,”he growls under his breath.

This time, it’s difficult not to smile. I solve the problem byeating another dumpling.

“I see,” Nikolai says. “We’re learning so much about eachother.”

“Yes, we are. Like how I learned that you kidnap yourintothem here employees and bring compliance. How many other unsuspecting women have youbrought here?”

I nearly choke on my bite. “None? That’s a lie.”

“I don’t go on dates.”

I shake my head. “What does that mean? Everybody dates.Unless… oh God. Are you married?” The question bursts outof me before I can stop it. “No, wait. I don’t want to know.Don’t tell me. Just… I’d rather not—”

I catch my breath. “Really?”

He holds up his ringless left hand. “Still waiting for ‘the one,’”he jokes.

The relief that floods me is almost overwhelming. I don’t wantto stop and question why that is.

“You make that sound silly.”

“Because it is,” he says with absolute certainty. “Have youever noticed that most people find ‘the one’ within a fifteen-mile radius of where they live? Convenient, isn’t it?”

I’ve never dated anyone long distance, but living away fromElise during college was torture. I tried to keep in touch andknow what was going on in her life, but it was different when Icouldn’t be there with her. When I couldn’t see her face whenshe came home from school or hold her tightly when Momwas high and passed out on the couch.

“And thank goodness fate takes that into consideration byassigning everyone a soulmate within walking distance.”

“Wow. Okay. I just learned something else about you. You’re acynic.”

“I’m a realist,” he says. “Most successful people are.”

“There’s more than one way to be successful.”

Nikolai laughs. “Spoken like a person who grew up poor.Don’t take offense—I only know because I grew up poor, too.”

It’s hard to imagine Nikolai ever not being in control. It’sdifficult to imagine there being a time when he couldn’t havewhoever or whatever he wanted.

“What were your parents like?”

“When is the last time you had s*x?” he asks instead ofanswering.

My cheeks go scarlet. “I asked my question first.”

He shrugs. “I don’t care.”

I’m more than aware there is no point arguing with him. Plus,this answer is easy. “On the plane here.”

“Why not?” he asks. “Ty slishkom zastenchiv?”

“I’m not—” I start to say, responding to his question before Irealize he said it in Russian.

“—telling you about my s*x life.”

I shove the last dumpling in my mouth to avoid sayinganything else stupid.

Nikolai’s gaze on me sharpens. I feel his eyes scraping overmy skin like he’s peeling me open layer by layer.

Luckily, the waitress comes with the next course just then,saving me from the inquisition.

As the dinner continues, the conversation ebbs and flows.There are stretches of quiet as I dive into the pastry-wrappedsalmon Nikolai ordered, trying to hide exactly how much I’menjoying it. The man’s ego is big enough as it is. We talkeasily about the decor and the other patrons.

But the undercurrent of tension remains.

“The couple in the corner comes here twice a week,” Nikolaisays, pointing to an elderly couple across from us. They’releaned in close together, sharing bites of food and laughing.“They escaped the Eastern Bloc together and came toAmerica. They’ve been married for fifty years.”

“Soulmates,” I say, giving him a smug look.

He shakes his head. “Two people who have similarexperiences that helped them bond and have stayed togetherbecause it makes life easier than if they were separated. It’s abusiness deal, nothing more.”

I look over at the couple. The way their eyes warm when theyconnect, the way the man has his hand on the woman’s kneeunder the table.

“No, it’s love. Destiny. I can tell.”

“What would you know about any of that?” he asks. “Youhaven’t had s*x in years.”

“Just because I haven’t been sleeping around doesn’t mean—”My eyes widen. “You tricked me!”

Nikolai takes a bite of his stew and shrugs. “It was so easy italmost wasn’t fun.”

My face is beet red, I’m sure. I stare down at my plate,shoving my food around with my fork. “I’m sure that’s whatyou said about me after I gave it up in the bathroom.”

“That was easy,” he agrees. “But it was plenty fun.”

I glance up, and he’s smiling at me. It’s almost warm enoughto be genuine, and for the briefest of seconds, I let myselfimagine what it might be like to be with Nikolai. To be thewoman he fawned over and took care of. To see that smileevery day.

I got a glimpse of it in the club last night, in the way heprotected me from creepy men and held me close. Standingnext to him, I felt treasured, taken care of.

My mouth quirks up in a smile now as I give in to the fantasyfor a moment.

Then Nikolai looks away. His gaze lands somewhere over myshoulder.

And cold, hard reality settles over me.