Page 30 of Unholy Tsar

Now, here he is at 9:00 PM, asking if I’d like to go out for dinner, that glare still on his face. “Huh?” I ask, a little confused. I had refused the meal the chef sent up earlier, but only because I wasn’t hungry at the time.

“Mr. Smolov said you’re suffocated and suggested you eat out a few times a week.” His cool tone suggests he thinks Maksim is insane for loosening my leash. But who cares? I’m allowed to go outside! Suddenly, I’m famished.

I grin at him, “Yes, I would love that. Thank you.”

He grunts and spins away from me. I sigh as I drop the book I was reading onto the coffee table and make my way to my bedroom. I would try to mend the new coldness between us, or at least go back to his indifference, but I know myself. Sooner or later, I’ll do something to piss him off again, and we’ll be back to square one. Maybe it’s better this way.

Since we’re going for dinner, I figure it’ll be something fancy or at least upscale—Maksim doesn’t do anything halfway—so I choose a royal blue dress that hugs my curves and flares out at the waist. I pair it with a jean jacket, since it gets really cold at night, and ankle-length boots. With my hair pulled up into a ponytail, I twirl in front of the full-length mirror by the closet. I look hot.

Roy does a double-take when he sees me, but his expression remains impassive. He’s probably surprised since he’s mostly only seen me in jeans and palazzos. “What do you think?” I tease him, hoping to lighten the mood.

He nods curtly and leads me outside. I sigh again, wishing there was someone I could talk with. At least I’m allowed back into the lessons with Bree and Maksim, so that’s something.

As I predicted, the restaurant is very posh, located right on the East River with breathtaking panoramic views of the city; even the Brooklyn Bridge looks enchanting. The seat reserved for me is the best in the house, with a window that faces the river twinkling with city lights.

As I take my seat, Roy nods at the three other security men with us, who then strategically position themselves around the restaurant. Roy stands rigidly behind. I glance around. Everyone is staring at me. Even the other patrons. I shift uncomfortably.

“Could you at least sit down?” I gesture to the empty seat across from me. “People are staring.” He shoots them a glare, and they quickly glance away. “My my, Roy, am I special to you?”

“What?” he frowns.

I grin at him, glad that he’s humoring me. “The glare you gave these people could make even the bravest men quake in their boots, yet when you look at me, it’s different.”

His frown deepens, then he looks away with a huff. Meanwhile, my grin just grows bigger, feeling pleased with myself. I’ll get to him. I just need more time. And that’s all I have now. The waiter walks up to take my order, and I point at the most expensive dish and drink.

Despite eating alone and having no one to talk to, dinner is surprisingly pleasant. Still, part of me wishes I had Maksim’s number so I could text him my thanks.

“Give me your boss’ number,” I demand from Roy when we leave the restaurant. He responds with his signature grunt, but I’m starting to tell them apart now, and this particular grunt means no.

“Come on. He wouldn’t mind, I swear. I forgot to ask for it when I saw him this morning,” I insist. But Roy simply opens the door of the car for me, his expression unreadable. I hesitate, then give him a pleading look. “Can we take a short walk around the river? I need to digest my meal.”

I sense a shift in his demeanor. His duty now seems less rigid, more relaxed. Maybe it’s me… or maybe Maksim told him to do more than just keep me safe. Maybe he ordered him to keep me happy, too.

I roll my eyes at the thought—yeah, right.

Still, whatever’s different, I’m ready to take full advantage of it. Anything to stretch my legs and feel slightly in control of my life again.

“I swear I’ll stay within your sights at all times. I’m not suicidal enough to try to run away twice in one day.”

He eyes me warily. “Five minutes,” he relents, and I flash him a grateful smile.

“You’re the best, Roy.” He just shakes his head, closing the car door as I skip ahead, inhaling the fresh air and reveling in the freedom. The riverside is bustling with people, but I don’t pay them any mind. I don’t need to. Not only do I have my own body guards watching me, I also have Maksim’s knife tucked it into my boot. If anyone dares to mess with me, they’ll regret it.

The joy bubbling up inside me feels like a fizzy soda, lively and irresistible. This is the happiest and safest I’ve felt in two years. Sure, being with Bree was nice, but in the grand scheme of things, I was just her friend. Bree was always the priority for her guards. I don’t hold it against her, but it feels good to finally be the main priority for once in my life, I can’t deny that.

Suddenly, a white van screeches to a halt in front of me, and I hear Roy shout my name as I curse at the driver. Then the side door swings open and a pair of hands reaches out to grab me.

Before I can even process what’s happening, I’m being dragged inside. What the fuck? I blink in disbelief as the van speeds off with squealing tires. Is this really happening? Did I just get fucking kidnapped?

“Finally. Tell the boss we have her,” someone says, and my adrenaline spikes. No. I won’t let them take me. These fuckers should’ve tied me up. But as I reach for the knife in my boot, the van suddenly climbs up a hill, and I have to hug the door to avoid being thrown backward.

By the time the van steadies, the man who dragged me inside has turned to talk to the driver. I take advantage of his distraction and drive my knife into his arm.

“You bitch!” he roars, lunging for me. But I quickly open the door and jump out. Bad idea. We aren’t exactly moving at light speed, but the ground is unforgiving and I roll through traffic, gritting my teeth in pain. The honking cars echo in my ears as I finally come to a stop. When I look up, I see we’re on the Brooklyn bridge.

My heart sinks.

Damn it.