“Well,” he started to tell me of his travels through Italy, and despite myself, I was engrossed and hanging on to every word.
Soon after, the appetizers arrived.
Arko watched with anticipation as I took my first bite of a truffle-infused arancini.
“Good?” he asked.
I nodded reluctantly. “Very.”
His smile hit me like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. It was the kind of smile that screamed he liked seeing me happy, and that confusing understanding made my stupid heart trip over itself.
We talked as we ate, and I found myself relaxing, enjoying the food, the wine, and, surprisingly, even the company. Arko was intelligent and surprisingly funny when he wasn’t being a kidnapping asshole.
Throughout the meal, I noticed diners nodding in respect as they passed. Even the chef came out to personally greet him, and not just because Arko owned the restaurant.
I was used to power, and the Lebedev name opened doors everywhere, but this was different. This wasn’t inherited respect; it seemed somehow earned through a truth I didn’t want to face about my family’s enemy.
The night went on easily, and I thought I’d gotten away without being recognized, when I noticed a strange man staring at us from over at the bar. I thought nothing of it at first, but by the time the dessert arrived, he still had his eyes on us.
When I glanced his way just to make sure, he didn’t look away. In fact, he sat up even straighter, like he wanted to be seen.
To say I started to feel paranoid didn’t even cover it.
“Don’t look now,” I said quietly, “but there’s a man at the bar who’s been staring at us for at least twenty minutes.”
Arko didn’t even turn his head. “Let him.”
“Let him?” I hissed. “What if he recognizes us?”
“So? People are bound to recognize us, don’t you think? A Pavlov and a Lebedev. Talk about a power couple, huh?” He smiled, slow and lazy.
That’s when I felt my innocence for what this night was shut down in its tracks. I realized, with growing horror, he wanted us to be seen.
This wasn’t just dinner or a simple offer to show me around town, so I didn’t get bored at the house. He wanted to use me to send a message to my family.
That’s when it clicked. “You wanted to be seen,” I said, the pieces falling into place. “That’s why we’re here. You want people to know you have a Lebedev.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Smart girl.”
My appetite vanished, and I felt the urge to stab my fork right through him. But I saw no point in actually doing that.
This was Arko Pavlov we were talking about, and it was my fault I let myself forget he was the enemy. All for some food and fucking wine.
Fine, then. If he wasn’t dropping his agenda for revenge, then I wasn’t dropping my plan to escape either.
I felt the effect of the alcohol fade away as my mind became clearer. If someone recognized me here, maybe they could help get me out, too.
“I need to use the restroom,” I said after some more casual conversation, so it wouldn’t look suspicious.
“Don’t be long.” He gave me a grin.
Cocky bastard.
I walked away to the restrooms at the back of the restaurant, and as I passed the bar, I noticed the man who had been watching us standing up.
I knew then, my plan might just work.
Instead of turning into the ladies’ room, I lingered near a potted plant, just behind the screen where Arko couldn’t see me. As expected, the man approached.
