Rip

by Rachel Van Dyken

  THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS CALMED MY breathing enough for me to put the damn scalpel down and focus in on the fact that Maya would be in my office in mere seconds, and I looked like I’d just attacked a wild boar and lost.

  “Nikolai?”

  “Sit,” I instructed, peeling the bloody gloves from my hands. Natalia had decided against my wishes to end things, which meant Jac had to clean up the mess I’d started. The last thing we wanted was for Natalia to die on the streets or God forbid spend her last few weeks getting high and telling everyone who would listen what goes on at my offices. It was just the type of thing that would set Petrov off, and he was already a loose cannon.

  Maya sat and folded her hands. “Everything okay, Doc?”

  “Cute.” I clenched my teeth. “Don’t ever call me Doc.”

  “Frankenstein?”

  “Let’s just skip nicknames.”

  “Okay, asshole.”

  I let out a pitiful groan. “The schedule, I need you to find Natalia’s name and put a red mark through it. Print out the documentation, put it in the safe, then delete her files on the computer. Can you do that?”

  “Wait.” Maya’s ponytail did a little flip as she shook her head. “You want a paper trail?”

  “For the safe. For my own purposes that you don’t need information on. Delete the files on the computer only after you’ve printed off what I need.”

  “Okay…”

  “And for the love of God don’t read her file.”

  “But you just said to print it—”

  “Print. You hit print. You delete once the paper comes out of the feed. Must I explain everything as if you’re a toddler, or can you handle this one simple task for me?” I tried to keep my voice even. “Once the paper is destroyed, make sure that the flash drive,” I pointed to the drive in the computer, “is given to me at the end of the day for inspection.” Nothing was ever permanently destroyed, data had a way of hanging on, just like life, and I needed to make sure I snuffed it out in the only way I knew how.

  Maya’s eyes filled with tears. “Right. I’ll just go do that right now.”

  “When you’re finished, close up the front. I’ll meet you in the lobby, turn the lights down.”

  “We’re done for tonight?”

  “Yes,” I grumbled. “For tonight.”

  The door clicked shut behind her. Shit. I ran my hands through my hair then kicked the metal trash can. I hadn’t meant to snap at her like that, but the more questions she asked, the more irritated I became, I couldn’t allow myself to attach emotionally. It was instinctual to guard myself, to protect what I did, to protect her. And if by being cruel I accomplished that, well.

  I shrugged out of my white jacket and pulled out my phone.

  Nikolai: Natalia will be at her usual spot.

  Jac: I’ll take care of it.

  Nikolai: I knew you would.

  I shoved my phone back into my pocket and made my way toward the lobby of my office.

  Maya’s back was facing me.

  Her black dress hugged every delicious curve. I drank my fill—because I knew it was all I was allowed.

  I could look.

  But never touch.

  Her father had made certain of that.

  I didn’t realize I was clenching my hands until I tried to place one on her shoulder. Releasing the tension in my fingertips, I lightly tapped her shoulder. “Ready to go?”

  She turned slowly, her eyes narrowing. “Listen, here.” A manicured finger tapped against the middle of my chest. “I get that you’re brilliant, that you have money, that everything in this godforsaken world has been handed to you on a freaking silver platter, but that gives you no right to treat me like I’m a child!”

  She really had no clue, I had to force myself not to smile.

  And then I had to force myself not to take her into my arms and kiss the scowl from her lips.

  “I’ll stop treating you like a child when you stop acting like one.”

  If I thought she was pissed before—she was beyond enraged now. Her eyes widened as she gave me a little shove. “You ass hole!”

  I straightened my tie. “I never promised to be anything but. Now, if you’re done putting me in my place, I’d like to get to dinner. We have a reservation.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Lie.” I checked my Rolex, “Are we going to sit and argue all night or do you want bread?”

  Her eyes lit up briefly before she turned around and wrapped her arms around her body. “Like I said, I’m not really hungry.”

  I walked up behind her, my chest nearly touching her back, and leaned in, my mouth brushing against her ear. “You know you could just say thank you in advance and get all this huffing over with.”

  “Thank you?” Her body shuddered, but she didn’t turn around. “For what?”

  “The best bread you’ll ever have in your entire life and enough wine to go with it for you to forget how much of an ass I’ve been.”

  Maya’s breath hitched. She turned, her face curious.

  Not going to happen. I refused to give anything away. “Or you could just force me to pay for your company, since you’re so convinced that’s what I do in my spare time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine but I’m ordering whatever I want.”

  “I would expect nothing less from you.”

  She grunted and walked toward the door. I followed her out and locked up behind me. My text alert went off.

  Quickly I scanned through the message from Jac.

  And then a picture popped up with the word confirmed tagged to it.

  “Something wrong?” Maya asked.

  I offered a practiced smile. “No, no, everything’s fine.”

  My hands shook as I unlocked the doors and shoved the key into the ignition. Jac was out there doing what I should be doing—what my family had been doing for years, and I was taking a girl who was completely off limits to dinner.

  Not because I owed her.

  Or because I owned her.

  But because I genuinely wanted to spend time with her—something I’d never before experienced.

  I felt it then, the change in the wind as I hit the Audi’s accelerator and forced myself to calm down.

  She was already getting underneath my skin.

  And she had no idea how dangerous that simple action would be—for both of us.

  Success and rest don’t sleep together—Russian Proverb

  HE WAS ACTING ANGRY AND CRAZY again. He was like Jekyll and Hyde. I tried to force myself to put all the different pieces of his personality together, but really, the only visual it gave me was one of a Picasso painting. I wondered if I’d ever really know the real Nikolai, or if it was even worth trying to figure out.

  Something on his phone had made him uneasy.

  Or maybe it was just sadness I noticed in his eyes as we drove in silence. I tried not to stare, really I did, but it was hard not to. When Nikolai was brooding or sad, there was this enigmatic pull he threw out into the atmosphere making it almost impossible not to want to lean in and whisper, “Tell me your secrets.”

  He’d been sad and uptight all day, ever since he’d disappeared into his hidden office.

  “Why the contract?” I finally asked once the silence got to be too much. I figured he was angry enough as it was, may as well ask what I’d been dying to ask since my fate had been sealed.

  “Let’s not discuss work.”

  “It’s not work,” I argued. “It’s my life.”

  “A life I’m very graciously allowing you to live out in one of my penthouse suites.” His voice was stern. “And let’s not forget payment.”

  I ground my teeth together. “See the thing is, Nikolai… most people want to have a choice in where they live and how they live, what job they hold. I know, weird, right?”

  His face cracked into a smile. “You don’t get a choice.”

  He said it like a fact, not a question. “And why is that?”

&
nbsp; “Tell me, do you have brothers? Sisters?”

  “I can’t imagine you not actually knowing everything there is to know about me and my family but if you must know… I had a sister. She died when she was an infant, and last year my brother Pike was ruthlessly murdered by some Italian bastards who clearly underestimate a Russian’s desire for revenge.”

  “Hmm, interesting.”

  Fine I’d take the bait. I exhaled. “What is?”

  His lips rubbed together briefly. “Your version of the story.”

  “Is there more than one?”

  “Several.” He took the exit toward Everett. “Depending on whom you speak with.”

  “I want your version.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “Why bring it up when you aren’t going to tell me anything? Seems pointless.”

  His frown turned into a smirk. “Are you pouting?”

  “Is it working?”

  He let out a low chuckle, it vibrated through the car, attaching itself to my nerve endings, causing a shiver to course through my veins. “Perhaps.”

  “So?” I clenched my hands together to keep myself from reaching out to him—it would be another horrible idea considering how often the man rejected and scolded me.

  “Your younger sister we will discuss at a later date.” His face paled. “Your brother Pike was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and your father thought it prudent to eliminate him before the Italian mafia decided to embark on a friendly war between the two families.”

  “Italians,” I spat.

  “Saved your ass,” he finished. “And are more loyal than you could possibly comprehend.”

  “My sister?” I asked in a hopeful voice. I’d never met her, to me she was a stranger, though still family. “What about her?”

  He hesitated then said in a low whisper. “It’s… complicated.”

  “She’s dead.” It felt so final, saying it out loud.

  “No.”

  My heart skipped as my blood turned cold, “What do you mean, no?”

  “No,” he said again. “Not dead. At least not as an infant.” He hesitated as if gauging what he should say next, his voice cracking. “For now we’ll just leave it at that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because.” He closed his eyes, while still driving, then opened them and said. “Her life was very different from yours… let’s eat and then we’ll discuss things like your sister.”

  “So my father lied?”

  Nikolai hissed out a breath. “What do you think? He also sold you to a bastard like me. He’s a monster. Plain and simple. Then again, I own a mirror, so…” He ended the statement with a half-hearted shrug.

  “You aren’t a bastard,” I defended, then closed my eyes in humiliation. He didn’t need me to defend him any more than I needed to be feeling sorry for him.

  “We’re here.” The car slowed to a stop. I glanced up. We were at the Everett Pier.

  “More work?” I arched my eyebrows.

  “Food.” He opened his car door. “I did promise you bread.”

  “It better be good,” I grumbled opening my own door and joining him in front of the car.

  The restaurant appeared small. Double iron doors were decorated with large sculpted fish handles, and a sign above the door said Confetti’s. It put me immediately at ease because really who takes someone to dinner at a place called Confetti’s then kills them?

  Wow, was I really entertaining the thought that he was a serial killer?

  I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. Good looking? Check. Brilliant? Check. Rich? Check. Possible sociopath? Double check. Great. I was dining with Ted Bundy.

  My body revolted against me and shivered—the thought chilled me.

  “Cold?” Nikolai shrugged out of his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders before I could say no. And all thoughts of Ted Bundy flew out the window. The jacket smelled like it had spent the day hanging up in an expensive store only to be worn by Mr. Dead Sexy for a few hours then sprayed with the most delicious spiced cologne I’d ever smelled in my entire life.

  “Are you going to smell my jacket or walk through the door, Maya?”

  I released the lapel of the jacket as a flush sent warmth to my cheeks. “Sorry, thought I saw a… loose thread.” You know, by the lapel, where there were officially no buttons, therefore no thread. Good one.

  “Ah, pesky threads.” He teased, his voice indifferent, but his posture giving way that he was amused at my expense.

  Ted Bundy. Ted Bundy. Ted Bundy. I needed the distance, I needed to think the worst because for some reason his every action drew me in—caused me to question the type of man he was—and my position in his life.

  “Mr. Blazik.” The receptionist was a short blonde with bright red lipstick, “We have your table all ready, if you’ll just follow me.”

  “Thank you, Carly.”

  I suddenly felt a warm hand on the small of my back. Every single fingertip seemed to singe into my skin making me hyper aware of his presence and again of how amazing he smelled. The hand soon left my body, causing me to feel a loss I had no right to feel. Nikolai pulled out the black velvet chair. I sat while Carly placed a white napkin over my lap.

  “Still or sparkling?” She held up two glass bottles of water.

  “Uh…” I nervously licked my lips and looked to Nikolai.

  “Still.”

  Did he really make me so nervous that I couldn’t decide which type of water I preferred?

  “That will be all, Carly.”

  Dismissed, she simply nodded her head and left. I glanced around the restaurant nervously. It was completely empty.

  “Is it closed?” I whispered, not really sure why I was whispering, but my voice felt too loud for some reason.

  “No.” Nikolai reached for my wineglass and flipped it over. As if by magic, a server appeared and poured each of us a glass of wine.

  “So…” I reached for the wine, needing it more than food at the moment. “Is it going out of business?”

  “No.”

  I glared at him. “Let’s try more than a one word answer.”

  He leaned forward, his facial features positively glowing beneath the candlelight. Damn the man was beautiful. His full lips pressed into an easy, confident smile. “I own the restaurant. I wanted it empty tonight, therefore it’s empty.”

  “I half expected you to snap your fingers and finish that sentence with evil laughter and maybe something like… and when I take over the world all will be mine.”

  Nikolai choked on his wine.

  “Something I said?”

  His smile was back full force. “You think?”

  “You don’t smile enough,” I blurted before I could stop myself. The words were out into the universe, and no matter how much I wanted to take them back—I couldn’t. I simply watched in fascination as they slowly sank in, causing Nikolai’s smile to fade and his posture to stiffen.

  “Probably not something you should notice about your employer.” He leaned back in his chair. “Today has been difficult.”

  The darkness was back. I tried to lighten the subject. “Do all employers close restaurants so they can have alone time with their favorite employees?”

  “Did I say you were my favorite?”

  “I nominated myself.” I nodded encouragingly then took another sip of wine.

  “I see that.”

  “Mr. Blazik.” A male server who looked to be around seventeen with a soul patch and dark black hair brought another bottle of wine and two new glasses. “For the appetizers.”

  A new glass replaced my old one, and an elaborate shrimp cocktail was placed on my plate.

  The smell of freshly baked bread assaulted my nose. An entire loaf was placed in between us.

  My mouth watered as the steam danced its way toward me.

  “Go ahead…” Nikolai nodded. “Before you make a fool of yourself and start clapping your hands or something.”

  “I do clap
before I eat.”

  “Most women do. I think it’s in a last ditch effort to burn calories before consuming an abhorrent amount of carbohydrates.”

  “Hah.” I reached for the bread.

  Nikolai grabbed the butter and cut a generous amount from the block then took my bread and lathered it on. “Don’t forget the best part.”

  “I should have clapped.”

  “Life is full of regret.” He smiled. “Eat your bread, Maya.”

  “Eat your bread, Maya. Sign the contract, Maya. Don’t ask questions, Maya. You sir, are bossy.” I took a huge bite of bread and nearly passed out with ecstasy.

  “I imagine you forgive me now?” He cut off his own piece of bread and watched me eat, not in a creepy way but in a way that made me think he hadn’t ever seen anyone enjoy food the way I did.

  Which was probably true.

  Food was life. And life was meant to be enjoyed, right? At least my father got that part right. Eating was meant to be enjoyed, savored.

  “What?” I swallowed the last bit of bread and reached for my white wine. “What’s so amusing?”

  He leaned back, pieces of dark hair falling in rock star fashion across his forehead. “I think I want every evening.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I’m adding it in the contract.”

  “What are we talking about?” I reached for another piece of sourdough.

  He smirked. “I want all your dinners… maybe your breakfasts too… tell me do you always eat bread with such abandon?”

  “Do you always treat your assistants with such extravagance?”

  “No.” He sobered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been accused of that.”

  “No.” I licked my lips suddenly feeling shy. “It’s the food… I love good food.”

  “And good company?”

  I tilted my head. “Hmm, good company being a man who never lets me ask questions.”

  “How about I give you a free pass? Ask me anything you want.”

  I almost choked on my wine. “Seriously?”

  “No, I lied.” He rolled his eyes. “Yes, Maya, you get one question… choose carefully.”

  “Damn, so I can’t ask if you’re a vampire or serial killer then?”

  “You’re trying to trick me…” he smirked. “But I’ll put your mind at ease nonetheless. No, I’m not a vampire, I can’t imagine sucking anyone’s blood… now their skin? I could lick and suck their skin... blood?” He shrugged, while I had a mild heart attack at the vision of him sucking... anything.