Even though I was in his room before, I still take a look around like it's my first time in here. The room is full of dark wood furniture with large floor-to-ceiling windows. A king-sized bed rests in the center of the room atop a brown and blue area rug with a fireplace nestled against the opposite wall.
I stroll through the room like I own the place and take a seat on the large, four-poster bed. I expect Jackson to join me, but he surprises me, once again, by pulling out the chair in front of his writing desk and taking a seat.
"So, now that I have you alone, do you think we could talk?" he asks.
"I'd love that," I tell him honestly. Talking will most likely build the type of fake relationship I need to form with him.
"Will you tell me why you did it? Why you killed your husband?" he asks, his brows furrowed.
I quickly stand. This is not the type of conversation I thought we'd be having. I don't want to show all of my cards yet. I have plenty of reasons for killing Pavel, probably too many to name. But it will make me look vulnerable, weak. And I don't want that.
I want to lure him in, attract him to me. And my past is not attractive whatsoever. It will be a complete turnoff. Jackson would certainly look at me differently afterwards — like I'm a victim, like I'm broken…like I'mdirty. And I don't want that.
He holds his hands up defensively. "Fine. If you don't want to talk about it, I get that."
"I just…can't right now. Do you understand?"
He nods once.
Quickly, I walk to the door to leave, but ultimately stop myself. I can't run away now when I'm so close to having him right where I want him. So, I decide to turn the tables on him instead. "How long were you watching us that night?" I inquire, turning to face him, even though I think I already know the answer to the question that's been burning in the back of my mind for days.
"A while. Actually…the whole time," he confesses, looking shy all of a sudden.
"I see," I tell him, pretending to be upset when, in fact, I'm quite the opposite. I'm intrigued.
He stands, staring at the floor as if he's ashamed of his admission. "Katerina," he begins.
I cringe at him using my full name. It's the name my so-called father gave me. The same man who sold me to the devil himself. All the bad people in my life call me Katerina, and I've grown to hate it.
"Katya," I correct him as he meets my stare. My nickname is something I hold sacred to me because my little sister was the only one who called me by that name. But after years of hearing Pavel say that name, I can't bear to hear it come from Jackson's mouth. "Call me Katya. Please."
He nods once and softly says, "Okay, Katya."
I watch as my name is caressed by his tongue and lips. He really is a handsome man. Too bad our situation is so fucked up. If I have any chance of surviving all of this, I need to seduce Jackson…no matter how hard it will be for me.
I've been through a lot worse, however. At least this one is easy on the eyes.
Slowly walking towards Jackson, I ask him, "So, did you like watching me getting fucked, Jackson?"
"Jax," he says with a nervous cough.
"Jax," I say, tasting his nickname. As long as he uses my nickname, I suppose I can use his. "Answer the question, Jax."
I watch his Adam's apple bob in his thick throat as he swallows hard. "Y-yes," he says, stumbling over the small word.
Oh, I'm enjoying the power I'm exuding over him. It's like I can't stop myself. As I approach him, my fingers reach for the collar of his shirt and caress the soft material. "Did you touch yourself while you watched?" I ask him bluntly.
He closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them, the steel-gray cores are blazing hot. "Yes," he whispers.
"Did you get off?" I ask, enunciating each word.
He shakes his head slowly.
"That's a shame." My fingertips trail down the buttons of his black shirt. "That's a long time to go without any kind of relief." I boldly skip down the front of his jeans and grip his large bulge. And holy shit, he's packing some heat behind that denim. "I can help you with your…big…problem," I say with a sly grin. It feels good to be in control for once, and it's quickly becoming like a drug, something I could definitely become addicted to.
However, to my surprise and disappointment, Jackson steps away from me out of my reach. "I think you should leave, Katya," he says quickly. "I'll see you downstairs later for dinner."
His words are cold, mechanical as he dismisses me and turns his back towards me. With no other choice but to stand there like an idiot, I walk out of his room. When he slams the door behind me, I stand there as disbelief courses through my veins.
