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“Yes?”
“What’s going on, Ekaterina?” Dominik’s voice was half angry, half concerned. I was uncertain which one pissed me off more. Who the hell was he to get angry at me, after the shit that had left his mouth?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My voice was flat. I was glancing through the window, memorizing the neighborhood and the route back to Davorin’s house.
Something between a hiss and a grunt came from the other side of the call. “First you kick Xenia out, then you drop off the face of the Earth, and then you bolt your doors shut. And now, you’re calling me from an unknown number from an address three hours away from your home. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?”
I blinked. “Why must you always assume I’m in trouble? I’m merely exploring other parts of the city.”
“Stop with the bullshit,” he slowly said.
I sighed. “I no longer trust you, Dominik. It’s none of your business, and quite frankly, even if it were, I wouldn’t tell you. Suffer a bit, won’t you?”
It was uncalled for, but my tongue worked faster than my brain at times. I knew that there was a possibility of hurting him, though he never would’ve admitted it.
He was silent for a moment. “Do you still have the tracker Aleksei put in your arm?”
“Sure.” The answer was no. I got rid of that as soon as Aleksei left the room, though it had left a nasty scar I was contemplating on covering up with a tattoo.
“All right.” Doubt laced his tone. “Call me if you need anything.”
I hung up the phone then called Tiana to arrange an early lunch date. Her phone number was amongst the rare ones I’d memorized. She was shocked to hear from me. She berated me for fifteen minutes because I hadn’t been answering my phone before she finally agreed.
Dominik’s credit card had a limit of course, but it was always above three hundred thousand dollars. Not often did I allow myself to spend a lot of money; however, I was itching to agitate my brother as much as possible.
Usually, he was very well composed—a man of few words, who never spoke unnecessarily and never beat around the bush—yet I’d managed to piss him off three times in a month. I called that a personal record, so what was one more?
I’d opted for the Theo restaurant. I liked the exclusivity, and since I used to come in regularly with Aleksei, who always made reservations months in advance, I knew they’d let me in. There were only twenty-six seats, and the best experience was to sit at the bar and watch the chef—Theo—prepare the meals, though that option was two hundred dollars more expensive.
I would’ve chosen that, but I needed privacy as I knew I couldn’t lie to Tiana any longer. It wasn’t remorse or guilt I was feeling; more a burden that she was involved with me, yet wasn’t. In the long run, I didn’t need her to disappear unexpectedly. This was a perfect chance for her to either demonstrate her loyalty to me or leave, and both options were fine.
One would ensure I no longer had any obligations; the other would mean an ally, though I had yet to think how she might be useful.
Tiana freaked out once I’d given her the address and took her lunch break immediately—it would take her a bit of time to get here. I went ahead and took a seat in the most secluded area. It was still fairly early, and there weren’t many people inside.
I was served a drink immediately and sat looking towards the door, but as soon as the next customer entered, my body froze.
Something inside my chest exploded. How was it possible no one had heard it?
A ghost of a smile traced his face. The closer he got to me, the better I could see his face. The wrinkles underneath his eyes indicated his age, and his gray hair and matching beard were thick, as if they weren’t real. His fingers were decorated with golden rings, and he held a cane in his right hand.
Courtesy of Aleksei.
“You’re a tough woman to track down,” he said in English, which came as a surprise. His thick accent was still there.
Two of his men, who were just as old as he was, stood closely behind him. Their hands were at their side, a pair of dark sunglasses on each of their faces. I hated those motherfuckers almost more than I hated Bogdan Kalashnik.
“Father,” I greeted. I hated how small my voice sounded. “What is it that you want?”
Bogdan didn’t need any invitation to take a seat. He leaned his cane against the side of the table, his goons preventing anyone from coming close to us. Despite the restaurant not being empty, they still managed to seclude us, and my nerves were unable to relax.
He chuckled slowly. “Can’t a father visit his daughter without ulterior motives?”
“A father can,” I retorted. “But you can’t.”
My hands were under the table. I was struggling to regain my composure and he’d noticed. His gaze flickered to me, and it was anything but welcoming. He didn’t try to hide his distaste towards me; however, he didn’t speak on it.
“That’s a little harsh.” He laughed it off. “I just wanted to see you.”
