I step forward and shake his hand. His grip is firm, while his expression is curious in a way that feels more dangerous than friendly. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Volkov.”
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Graves.” I tense because Ben didn’t say my full name. He already knew it. “You’re lovely. How did my son manage to sweep you off your feet?”
“I—I…delivered a cake to his office. To him, actually. I work at a bakery.”
Ivan perks a brow and glances at his son. “You eat sweets now?”
“No,” I reply for him, gaining his father’s steel expression as if liking them is a sin against humanity. “It was a prank, I guess, which is why your son looked at me like I had two heads. Our first meeting…was a lot of me talking and a lot of him being silent.”
His father’s smile sharpens. “Sounds like him. Benedikt doesn’t…show emotion often.”
“Which is why I was surprised to hear from him.”
Ben’s father tilts his head, suddenly seeming interested. “And did he charm you right away?”
“No. I thought he was a pompous asshole…sir.”
Ivan barks out in laughter, causing me to jolt from the sudden gesture echoing off the walls, but Ben’s hand presses firmer into my spine.
I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.
“Come,” Ivan orders gently, offering me his arm. “Let me take you to the dining room so you can sit and relax. I have a whole meal planned out that I hope you’ll enjoy.”
He takes me toward the entrance, six steps, and we’re into a space that looks like it belongs in a palace or a high-end interior design magazine.
The table is long enough that you could host a small wedding on it, polished to a mirror shine with tall candles flickering between crystal vases of white roses. There are only six place settings, which somehow makes the whole thing feel more intimate…and dangerous.
Almost like an interrogation paired with Jedi mind tricks. He wants us to be comfortable, but he’s aiming to call out all the lies.
Ben moves ahead, pulling out a high-backed chair at the head of the long, gleaming table. He doesn’t look at his father, he looks at me, and there’s an unspokensit here, nowcommand in those dark blue eyes.
I obey, lowering into the seat. His hand lingers on the top of my chair for a moment before sliding away. Ivan takes the seat at the head of the table while Ben sits to my right. His knee brushes mine beneath the table, light at first, then stays there.
Ivan gestures toward the space between us. “You didn’t mention her to me. You don’t usually keep company and, when you do, you don’t keep it for long.”
What in the world does that mean?
Ben’s voice is steady. “No.”
“No?” Ivan repeats flatly. “And why is that, Benedikt? She’s beautiful. She seems to have a bit of fire to her. She doesn’t seem to take yourbullshit. Sienna seems…almost too good to be true.”
Ben leans back slightly, one arm resting along the back of my chair. “Because I don’t date.”
I fight the urge to glower at Benedikt because he’s not helping his case here.
However, it’s his funeral if he can’t pull it off. I’m doing my part, I can’t carry us both.
“And you date now because…”
Ben doesn’t flinch when he says, “Did you take a good look at her, father?”
Ivan doesn’t look convinced or buying into my his son’s possibly lust-filled state with the opposite sex. “How long have you been…dating?”
“A few months.”
“That’s a long time for you.”
“Long enough to know what I want.”
