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“I think they’re all off duty models,” I said, trying to hide how embarrassed I was.
A bit like a predator, instead of sensing fear and pouncing, Mom sensed discomfort and doubled down on whatever she was doing to cause it in me. Although, she still sensed fear just fine as well.
“None of them compare to you,” Donny said.
I forced a smile and was about to begrudgingly thank him, but when I looked up from the menu, he was beaming at my mother. She beamed right back, leaning over to squeeze his thigh and tell him to stop being so charming.
“Yes, please do,” I couldn’t help agreeing.
I glanced around the place, wondering if it was too soon to hide out in the ladies room and nearly choked when I saw a familiar face.
Staring across the crowded dining room, right into my soul, was the man I couldn’t stop thinking about, the man whose scent I had only washed off my body a few hours ago. And he didn’t look happy to see me. Of course I’d told him I was leaving town this morning, but at the time it hadn’t been a lie. He pointedly looked at Donny, his lips turning down in a scowl.
I noticed he wasn’t alone at his table. There was an icy blonde woman chatting away, oblivious to the fact he was staring at someone else. What a bastard! Did he think he had any right to judge me? Apparently, he did from the way he scowled at me. And, he was getting up and heading our way. I nearly crawled under the table and did halfway stand to run for the restroom, but his long legs ate up the distance, and it was too late. I refused to be a coward when he held out his hand and declared how happy he was to see me, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Donny was immersed in the menu, but Mom was looking Aleksei up and down as if about to ask if he was the special of the day. I wanted to shield him from her man-eating gaze at the same time I wanted to snap at her to knock it off, because he was mine. Except, of course, he wasn’t.
“I’m so glad you’re still in town,” he said, never once glancing away from me. “I loved the painting and must have more.”
Those blue eyes screamed exactly what he meant and my legs went weak under the table. I squeezed my thighs together, trying not to get lost in the all-too-recent memory of what he could do to me down there. I could have murdered him, not just for outing my art sale, because he had no idea it was supposed to be a secret, but because he was making me shiver all over again. I glared at him, causing him to smirk at me.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to make do with what you already got,” I said meaningfully, crossing my legs again when he laughingly licked his lips.
“Is that so?”
My mother jumped in. “What? Don’t be silly, Theresa.” She held out a perfectly manicured hand, fluttering her mauve talons. “Giana Lorenzo. I can acquire anything you want, not just modern pieces. Classics, new artists, anything at all.”
I let out a little of my pent up anger. She had Aleksei confused with the old oil magnate I sold the fake Basquiat to. He touched her fingertips and smiled politely at her, then turned his full attention back to me, the smirk firmly in place.
“I’m interested,” he said, pulling a card from his pocket and placing it on the table in front of me. “Subtle beauty, and definitely new. You know what I want, Theresa.”
I could only stare at him, but got knocked out of my fantasy when the icy blonde walked over and snuggled up next to him, her diamond clad wrist snaking around his waist.
“Your brother’s paying, Aleks, isn’t that nice of him? Shall we get to the jeweler’s before they close?”
He breathed out through his nose and nodded curtly at her. He leaned over and tapped his card, his steely gaze impossible to look away from.
“Call me,” he commanded.
They left, another tall, blond man catching up to them at the door. My neck swiveled so I could watch them leave, but Aleksei never turned back. He’d told me what to do and fully expected me to do it. And God, how I wanted to.
My mom snatched up the card. “Aleksei Morozov. That name sounds familiar.” A few taps on her phone and she squealed. “Oh, he’s a very good contact, Theresa. You did well.” She looked around the restaurant and lowered her voice. “They’re an important family here. Well connected. Look for yourself.”
She handed over her phone, and I scrolled through the headlines. Most were just puff pieces about gallery openings, or other grand, local events. A few charities they were connected to, and then, much further down, I saw what got her so excited. An exposé from a couple years back. I clicked, reading through it, waving for them to order me whatever the special was. My appetite dwindled with every sentence. The language was guarded, shrouded in allegations, but it was clear who the Morozovs really were. Organized crime, just like us. But bigger, more powerful, and much more dangerous. I searched the name of the investigative journalist and found out he no longer lived in Miami. He hadn’t published anything since the exposé, either. That didn’t mean they’d done anything to him, but it didn’t mean they didn’t, either. I knew how pesky reporters went missing when they dug up information that was meant to stay buried. My appetite was gone. Not that my mother noticed. She was bursting with happiness.
Even Donny was proud. “Excellent work, hooking such a big fish.” He turned to my mother. “We can surely get him interested in another piece of art, and bilk him for more this time.”
“An alliance with that family would be just as valuable,” she said, stars in her eyes.
I tuned them out as they kept gushing about the Morozovs, wishing I was anywhere else in the world.
Chapter 7 - Aleksei
Roman Pavlov and I made uncomfortable small talk over tiny cups of Cuban coffee, our sandwiches uneaten in front of us, while Yuri went over the final marriage contract. My death certificate as I’d begun to refer to it in my mind. I didn’t think Roman was too thrilled that our family lawyer showed up for what was supposed to be just me signing and being done with it.
Ha. If Roman thought we were that stupid, he had a lot to learn about the family he wanted so badly to be aligned with. Yuri, tactful as ever, played it off as doing a brotherly favor for me, promising he was only going to glance over the paperwork to make sure there weren’t any mistakes that might render it null and void. I should have been so lucky.
A half an hour later and Yuri was still combing over the contract, line by line, and not even ordering the coffee and food to pass the time lightened up Roman’s dark mood. Mine wasn’t much better. Almost a week had gone by without a peep from Theresa, after I expressly told her to call me. With the walls closing in on me and my wedding day growing closer, she was the only thing on my mind that didn’t make me want to put my fist through something.
