“What are you hiding behind that smile?”
She smiled even more before she replied in a calm tone. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m dangerous when I don’t smile, Roman.”
“I know you’re up to something. I also know that you’re hiding something,” I said.
“All I know is you’re the one who loves control more than anything in the world, and I’m not your puppet.”
“I never said you were my puppet, Liza.”
“But you’re clearly treating me like one,” she said with her arms folded across her chest. “Here you are giving me rules to satisfy your ego, but you don’t even seem to care about my life. All I ask is for my things to be brought back to me from Russia, including my phone. I’m not a threat for crying out loud. I’m your fiancée. And when you’re not always around, I’d like to have people to talk with.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“No, Roman, there’s not much time to think about this. All I intend to do is call Emilia and Isabella and ask them to come around. They’re my only friends, and I miss their company.”
“Both Emilia and Isabella are aware of your situation. Don’t worry about contacting them to come over. They’ll come to see you themselves.”
To my amazement, she didn’t plead with me or insult me as I expected. Instead, she said thank you in a sweet voice, and it made me think as though she was up to something. This was a different Liza.
So I walked up to her, and she tried to maintain eye contact. “I know that this attitude isn’t you. It’s just a façade,and we both know that when it comes to both of us, we always disagree. You’re not easy or amiable. Sooner or later, you’ll have to tell me about all your father’s dealings, Liza, every single fucking detail. You want to be cooperative, then cooperate, or else I’ll torture the truth out of you.”
Liza’s face carried emotions that I couldn’t read. I couldn’t tell if she smiled or frowned, but I believed that my words got to her because she stood still as though she didn’t know what to do or where to go. I thought this was it. The moment when she’d reveal at least a tiny detail of everything her father has kept secret. Then she blinked, right before turning around.
“You can do your worst, Roman,” she said, and then she climbed into bed and lay still as though sleeping.
It was this moment that brought me clarity. She really was testing my patience, and I knew I couldn’t tolerate it much longer. Maybe Liza was truly the match for me. Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted torture, and she was daring me to. Whatever Liza looked forward to, I was ready to make sure that she wouldn’t see it coming, no matter what. This was already a game for her.
She didn’t sleep like someone who was afraid. She lay on the bed like someone completely at ease. Ungrateful as she was, I knew I couldn’t deny her the comfort she needed because of the kidnapping. She’s not only watched by me. She’s watched by the entire world, so I knew protecting her was my responsibility. But for how long could I keep up with her before she reveals the truth? The truth of all the secret things her father had going on that none of the Lobanovs have a clue about. There was no way he’d run away from the Lobanovs and go free, and I vowed to bring him to the limelight in the worst possible way.
Chapter Six
Liza’s POV
I had nothing in mind when I woke up. It was quiet, and the morning was young. Roman wasn't in bed, and I stretched out, releasing a stressed yawn. It was only after I walked out of bed that I noticed the three steamer trunks lined up by the window. Though they looked tempting, I didn't want to believe that something magnificent had happened. God only knows what lay in there, yet the more I stared at it, the more curious I was to open the trunks and unravel whatever mysterious thing was buried inside.
I walked towards the trunk and opened it, and to my surprise, I saw all my belongings. My clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry were all wrapped up in one big box. I didn't expect this to happen so soon. I mean, I thought it would take forever for Roman to get all my clothes and accessories from Russia, but for it to take only a span of the night was quite impressive.
This was the happiest that I'd been since I was brought to Manhattan, and it shocked me that Roman kept his promise. I took everything out, one by one, and he brought everything. Everything apart from my phone. The joy that overwhelmed me disappeared in an instant, and my head spun with thoughts. No one needed to tell me this was Roman's way of letting me know that I was going to be controlled by him, the control freak that he is. But because he did keep to his word about bringing my things from Russia, I was still glad.
I stepped into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, and had a long, warm bath. My hands slid past all my clothes until I saw the emerald green gown at the bottom. Wearing this would definitely match my emerald necklace, I thought. So I got dressed and hurried outside the bedroom, jewelry dangling from my hands to my neck.
I needed an early morning coffee to start my day, and when I entered the kitchen, I saw Roman sitting at the marble island. I tried to process what to say to him. Should I thank him for the clothes or for keeping to his word? Or should I remind him that he needed to bring me my phone? I felt separated from my friends, and it weighed on me. So with every step, I carefully considered what I needed to say to him.
A stack of papers was by his left side. He turned, looked at me, and rubbed his eyes with his fingers before returning his gaze to the papers.
“You're up. Morning,” he said. I didn't reply because I felt his words were rhetorical. The papers weren't any ordinary pile of paperwork, but financial statements. He pushed a folder across the counter, and all I did was observe how sore his eyes looked as though he hadn't had much sleep. His eye bags were nearly sagging, yet I remained silent while I turned to check what was inside. Hopefully, I find my phone, I said to myself, fantasizing about many things I'd do for a start. Instead, I saw a schedule for the next forty-eight hours, which was mainly a joint press appearance at the Manhattan hospital, funded by the Markov foundation, a dinner with the state senators, and a gala which was meant to celebrate Roman’s scholarship program. It all looked like hard work that I didn’t want to buy into. Yet, he turned to look at me and said,
“Your presence will make it look like our families are consolidating.”
What did he mean? I didn't sign up for this, yet I felt like I did, and the tone at which he spoke to me made me release a light laugh before I replied,
“Let me get this straight. First, you abduct me, and now you want me smiling for your cameras.”
“Liza, you're my leverage. Don't mistake this for employment, okay?”
I leaned forward, just the right distance, and I felt the neckline of my dress dip. “Then stop pretending like it's philanthropy, Roman.”
His eyes struck mine, and I tried to read his reaction. The veins that popped out of his head could either be stress or rage, yet I knew that there were hundreds of things that crossed Roman's mind. His silence felt a little bit intimidating, but I was certain that my response got to him. His body seemed to swell with rage, yet his eyes flicked open with desire. I could tell that Roman wanted something. The way he looked at my lips right before he stared back into my eyes was unusual, and I enjoyed that my words were strong enough to get to him.
