Her Russian Billionaire

by Theodora Taylor

  Eva ignored him and tried to bring the conversation out of the death spiral it had entered. “Daddy, it’s a cultural thing. He’s very blunt,” she said, trying not to feel guilty for failing to stick up for Alexei the way he’d stuck up for her.

  “Well, then you obviously need to find a boy from another culture, because I’m not going to put up with you living on my dime while dating this fool. I’ll meet you in the car.”

  With that he stood up and stormed out of the restaurant.

  In the wake of his departure, Eva said. “Wow. That went so well, way better than I expected when I said it would be an awful idea for you to come to dinner with my father and me.”

  Alexei narrowed his eyes. “This is joke, da?” He wasn’t great with sarcasm on his best English days.

  “For sure da, that was a joke.” She sighed and tabled her own napkin. “And I was really looking forward to dessert, but I guess I should go after him.”

  “You are leaving?”

  “He’s my father, Alexei. He’s given me everything I’ve ever asked for and he’s currently paying all of my expenses. Yes, I’m going after him. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  She’d dropped a pile of bills on the table for the expensive dinner, which she knew he wouldn’t be able to afford on his salary. Then she’d run after her father.

  But she hadn’t called him later. Instead she’d shown up at his door with an overnight bag. “Do you love me?” she asked him before he could even greet her.

  Alexei shook his head, scowling with confusion. “Why do you ask me this? And why do you have bag?”

  “Because tonight my father gave me an ultimatum. He said either I break-up with you or he’ll cut me off entirely. And guess what?”

  Alexei rarely smiled, but when he did it softened his entire face. “You choose me.”

  She nodded with a chagrinned smile. “I chose you. But if it turns out you’re not in love with me like I’m in love with you, this is going to be really awkward and embarrassing, especially since I’m going to have to move in with you until I can figure out a new non-Daddy-endorsed living situation.”

  This was meant to be a joke, but as with most things, Alexei took her seriously. “Of course I love you. You are my kotenok, my heart.” He took her overnight bag from her. “Come, come inside. I will show you. You will not look for new apartment. You save money and live with me. I can give you three drawers and half closet—”

  He would have gone on, but Eva cut him off with a kiss that quickly turned passionate. And by the time Alexei lowered her on to his floor mattress, she was more than certain she’d made the exact right decision.

  Worst decision she’d ever made, she declared silently to herself on Alexei’s luxurious aircraft eight years later. She closed her laptop with disgust, unable to concentrate on composing an email to her son—the one she was desperately afraid of Alexei finding out about. Instead, she turned her attention to the New York skyline as they descended into LaGuardia Airport. One of those buildings belonged to Alexei in its entirety. Who knew what type of man he was now, and who knew what he’d demand of her, now that he had her and her entire hometown at his mercy.

  Chapter Six

  ALEXEI had just received a text from Emilio that the plane had landed at LaGuardia and Eva was on her way to their Midtown office building, when Emilio himself got on the line to say his uncle was calling from Russia and wanted to talk with him.

  There were few rules from their crime family days that he still adhered to, but one of them was when an older family member calls, the younger family member is obligated to drop everything and pick up.

  “Uncle,” he said without preamble and in his native Russian. “What can I do for you?”

  “Google Alerts just told me you have bought Drummond Oil. I would like to talk about this with you.”

  “There is nothing to talk about Uncle,” he said, wishing Sergei had never gotten the bright idea to start receiving Google Alerts on his on nephew. His uncle wasn’t that great at keeping up with the company’s own business reports, but receiving Google Alerts every time Alexei’s name came up in the news made it easier for him to poke his nose into both Alexei’s personal and formal business. “It is a good investment and I like good investments.”

  “When our advisors said we should invest in oil over here, you said no, you didn’t like it, and you chose to focus on other natural resources,” his uncle said. “That is what you declared. Why then are we getting involved with oil now and with such a little company? Does this mean we will no longer be investing in Matsuda Steel and the Sinclair Industries deal is off the table? Will we be expanding into oil in Russia, too? Because I have contacts from the old days who will be able to help us with this.”

  Alexei closed his eyes in irritation. This was exactly why he’d refused to deal with oil in Russia. It could be very lucrative, yes, but his uncle would have insisted on doing business with the same people they’d done business with when they were a crime family. No matter how many millions of rubles had flooded into his bank account, because of Alexei’s decision seven years ago to decriminalize their family business, Sergei continued to argue for a return to the old ways.

  But Alexei did realize he had no one but himself to blame for this call. Buying Drummond Oil had given his uncle just the excuse he needed to push his agenda again.

  “No, the Matsuda deal is still on the table and I fully intend to remain mostly in metals and natural resources outside of oil. Do not concern yourself with this new purchase, Uncle. I will only hold on to the company for a little while before selling it again.”

  “You bought a company only to resell it? Why?”

  Alexei wasn’t about to tell him the true answer: revenge. Instead he said, “I have my reasons.”

  “I will start looking into possible investments over here,” his uncle declared. “Maybe you will extend these reasons to the companies your old uncle would like you to look at as well. I was more than an enforcer, you know. I advised your father, and I kept this family going while you were having your American adventure.”

  That’s what his uncle called working like a mule to get his MBA. For a moment, Alexei’s temper flared. He loved his uncle, but sometimes he suspected he resented the profitable direction in which Alexei had taken the company. If it were up to him, they’d still be scrapping in the street like dogs.

  But then again, who was he to judge his uncle for living in the past? He had just spent millions of dollars on a small oil company just to get revenge against a woman he should be beyond caring about. There was no reasonable way to explain that, and even he could see this landed on the wrong side of obsession. He comforted himself with the fact that it would be over soon. He’d have his revenge, and Eva would be sorry she ever crossed the “fresh off the boat” Russian who had given her his heart in full.

  “Uncle, I must go. I have an important meeting.”

  “I will make that list and call you back,” his uncle said. Then he hung up, not waiting for Alexei to agree or disagree.

  * * * *

  The elevator ride up to Alexei’s offices felt like the longest one she had ever taken. Not just because his offices were situated at the very top of a very tall building, but also because she was standing beside Emilio. She had considered him a friend back when he’d been Alexei’s counterpart at the School of Social Work’s security desk. They’d been friendly acquaintances even before she started dating Alexei. In truth, she’d joke with her friends how career services must have really like the SSW, because they had gotten not one, but two hot security guards. Emilio, who was still tall, lean, and exceedingly handsome, had been much more friendly than Alexei back then, and he’d seemed genuinely happy for her and Alexei when they became a couple.

  But eight years later, he had greeted her in the lobby with a cold, “I’ll take you to Mr. Rustanov now.” And that had been it.

  She’d thought they’d spend the entire ride in uncomfortable silence, but halfway throu
gh, he said, “It’s not right, you coming back into his life like this all of sudden.”

  Eva could appreciate his loyalty, but…“He’s the one who made me come all the way to New York. Trust me, I was very happy staying out of his life in Texas.”

  “You’re not dressed like you were dragged here.” He cast his eyes toward her slinky dress.

  “I was physically ambushed by four little old ladies who forced me into this get up. Have you ever been ambushed by old ladies? They’re rough, then they guilt trip you if you try to fight back. Believe me, you cannot win.”

  Emilio now turned fully toward her. “What happened in Pittsburgh?”

  She felt her face warm. “Nothing that warranted all of this. Trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you,” he said, his voice clipped. “I’m the one who had to put him back together again after you left. If it were up to me, I’d keep you on the other side of the planet from him. But it isn’t.”

  The elevator dinged, saving her from having to answer. They stepped out into a large, all-glass suite. Every wall was floor-to-ceiling glass and she could already see Alexei in a well-tailored business suit standing with his hands clasped behind his back as he looked out the window. All the furniture in the outer and inner office was also made of glass, including the chairs, Emilio’s desk in the outer office, and Alexei’s much larger one in the inner office. Even the floor beneath their feet was outfitted in some kind of smoky glass tile.

  The only thing not made out of glass were the two armed security guards outside of Alexei’s office, and the effect wasn’t helped much by the fact they were wearing matching light grey suits and mirrored sunglasses.

  “Is this an office or a super-villain’s lair?”

  To her surprise, Emilio actually cracked a smile, which temporarily transformed him into the easy-going guy she remembered. “I tried to tell him it was too much. But you know how Russians are. They like too much. At least it’s elegant, yeah? You should see some of the other executive’s offices in Moscow. Tacky.”

  Eva burst out laughing, remembering the complete wardrobe makeover she’d had to perform on Alexei after she opened his closet and found some of the busiest open-collared, polyester dress shirts known to man.

  But the laughter died in her throat when Alexei turned from the window and looked straight at her. She had been joking earlier, but as she walked through the door one of the guards held open for her, it really did feel like she was entering the bad guy’s lair.

  “Hello, Eva,” he said, when she walked in. “I see you and Emilio have become reacquainted.”

  She didn’t realize until the door closed behind her that while she and Alexei had kissed and gotten as intimate as two people could with all their clothes still on, they hadn’t actually exchanged any words the last time they’d seen each other in Pittsburgh.

  “You went and lost your accent?” she said, too surprised to not act surprised. She could hear his Russian background in the cadence of his speech, but other than that, his thick accent was gone, an almost monotone reflection of what it used to be. Alexei’s voice, she realized, was now clear and hard, like the glass in his office.

  “I decided it would be best left behind if I truly wanted to navigate in business,” he said. His words were soft and civil, but his eyes were unblinking and hard as granite. “But I see you kept yours.”

  “Yep.” She nodded. “I’m still Texas through and through. As a matter fact, do you mind if I take a seat? My feet aren’t built for anything with a bigger heel than cowboy boots and these stilettos are killing me.”

  His lips thinned as if he was actually thinking of denying her a seat, but in the end, he extended a hand and said, “Yes, sit. We have much to discuss.”

  She took a seat. “We sure do,” she said, tentatively sliding her bottom into one of the weird glass chairs. She was pleasantly surprised to find it quite sturdy and not nearly as fragile as it looked.

  “Listen, I’m going to cut to chase here,” she said. “I’ve got a pretty good idea why you called me to your office. You’re angry because of how I left things eight years ago. And I’ve gotta say, you got me. Threatening my hometown was exactly the way to get an apology out of me. An apology you deserve big time. So I’m gonna say it now. I’m all kinds of sorry about what happened between us. If you want, I’ll get down on my knees and grovel. But please don’t take out your anger at me on the Drummond. There are good people living there, and they don’t deserve to go out like this because of something I did when I was very young.”

  She emphasized those last five words, hoping they’d serve as a gentle reminder that perhaps things people do when they are young shouldn’t still be held against them eight years later.

  He regarded her for a few long, measuring moments. He then finally sat down in the glass chair behind his own desk. “Your apology is very pretty, Eva, but the truth is it would be inconvenient for me to keep the headquarters in Drummond. Dallas is easier to fly into. The decision is already made. I just wanted to inform you of it to your face.”

  More than anything, Eva wanted to simply accept this and move on. She wanted to say, “Okay, fine,” and get the hell out of Dodge. But as mad as she had been at Berta earlier, she also felt guilty, because her pension was riding on this negotiation, as well as the future well-being of all five-thousand residents of Drummond. The schools, all the civil service offices, everything would close and just about everyone would lose their jobs because of her.

  She shook her head mournfully. “Please, I’m begging you to reconsider. The town’s going to die without the Drummond Oil headquarters. Is there any way I can talk you out of this?”

  He regarded her with a lazy half-smirk. “I do not want to be talked out of it, Eva.”

  She caught the emphasis he put on the word “talked” and her blood curdled, “What do you want then? I mean other than see me squirm in this hideously uncomfortable glass chair?”

  His eyes raked down her body. “I see you still like your inappropriate jokes at inappropriate moments. This is a negotiation, Eva. Perhaps you should be serious and ask me what I want again. This time without the attitude.”

  Barely resisting the urge to rile the vicious snake he’d become further by rolling her eyes at his command, she said in her best serious voice, “What do you want?”

  He leaned forward. “I want you completely at my mercy for two weeks. I want to use you as a fuck toy, doing to you whatever I want, however I want it, for that time until I get tired of you and throw you away like you threw me away eight years ago. That’s what I want.”

  Her mouth went as dry as a mile of Texas backcountry road. She couldn’t have made joke at that point if her life depended on it. But more upsetting than his request was her body’s response to it. She could feel herself moisten, at just the thought of being with Alexei again, even if it were in such a degrading way.

  She closed her eyes and could hear her father’s voice ring in her ears. Do whatever it takes to fix this. She also thought of Aaron who would be safe from discovery if she just allowed Alexei to exact his revenge.

  Aaron was what sealed it, really, because she could tell that even if she said no to his terms and let him kill Drummond, Alexei would come at her with something else. No, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he fulfilled his revenge fantasy.

  “Just so we’re clear on this,” she said, her voice more than a little shaky, “If I agree to spend two weeks with you, then you’ll let the Drummond Oil headquarters stay in Drummond for good? And you’ll also leave the funding Drummond Oil has put in place for our town as is? No backsies?”

  He regarded her with a satisfied gleam in his eyes. “Yes, I will allow Drummond Oil to stay in Drummond after I’m done with you. And you may keep the funding scheme.”

  She folded her arms and averted her eyes. “Fine,” she mumbled.

  “What’s that?” he asked, cupping his ear. “I did not hear you.”

  “Fine,” she said, clear as day, over-e
nunciating the word. “If completely degrading me will make you feel better about yourself, then I’ll do what you want, if it means you’ll leave me and my hometown alone.”

  His scowl deepened. “You will need to learn to be careful with your mouth before we meet again on Sunday. If you continue to act unpleasant when we are together next, I will consider you in violation of our agreement and I will send the order to close your precious headquarters.”

  “Wait, Sunday? I only have two days until I have to…” She couldn’t say it. “…do what you want me to do? But I have a ton of paperwork. I can’t just disappear from my job with only two days notice. Plus two weeks is a long time. I can’t clear off my desk and pack in just two days.”

  “I am sure the good people of Drummond will be able to get along without you for two weeks.” He gave her a smile that didn’t nearly reach his eyes. “As for packing, bring nothing but yourself. I willl provide your clothing. That way we can both be sure what you are wearing is to my liking.”

  The thought of someone else picking out her clothes for two whole weeks was appalling on several different levels, but she didn’t dare protest since every time she did, he just seemed to come back at her with an even more ludicrous demand. If she didn’t shut up, he’d have her running around buck-naked for two weeks just for his amusement.

  “Fine,” she said. “May I go now?”

  “No, not yet. Your hair…”

  She touched her straightened locks. “You want me to at least bring a flat iron, so I can keep it like this?”

  “No,” he said. “I want it to be curly the next time I see you. I do not like it this way.”

  She started to tell him she didn’t usually wear it down like this. She had straightened it for Layla’s wedding just for fun and, of course, she’d been ambushed by little old black ladies before she got on the plane. But then she remembered who she was talking to and just went with another “Fine.”

  “And when was your last STD test?”