Page 18 of Slipping into the Dark Side

In this moment, more so than any before it, was doubt. Tatianna caught her gaze in the reflection and was ashamed of it because every day, she was thinking of someone else. She was imagining someone else at the end of the altar. Someone else kissing her. Someone else slipping a hand between her legs. Yakov was the only one who brought life into her. And the terrible thing was that Fedor noticed the change in her.

When they were making out the other day, he commented on how excited she seemed. It was embarrassing, but he assured her it was okay. He was excited, too, Fedor said. He boldly brought her hand to the stiffness between his legs and smiled against her cheek.‘Soon, Tati.’

Tatianna quickly took off the wedding dress, nearly ripping the fabric as she did so. The seamstress kept asking her what was wrong, and no matter how many times she replied ‘nothing,’ the woman didn’t believe her.

Tatianna pushed through the door and jogged a length away until she put a hand on the wall to catch her breath. She had been so sure of plans for the future. Everything was written down. All the paths, all the friendships, all the connections that needed to be made to excel her life into the kind she wanted had been written and already begun. There was so much to do, and she could see her life day by day and what it would become. All her hard work would be recognized, and everything that would happen would be because she had done it. There would be no ‘luck,’ it would all be strategic moves.

But Yakov presented a shortcut.

If she went with him, she’d have everything she was striving for in moments.

And then what?

Nothing would be hers. Everything would be his.

Nothing would mean anything. She’d be an armpiece only kept around for fucking and babies and though that wasn’t a bad way to live, perhaps even something she wouldn’t mind for a while, there was too much going on in her head for her just a housewife.

With Fedor, she knew how to bend him to her will. He lived to please her and it was the best thing she could ask for.

Tatianna wasn’t ignorant to the kind of man Yakov was. He would not bend. He would not give in. But the idea of a challenge caused havoc in her belly. Tatianna was finding Yakovharder and harder to resist. Because with him, her future was impossible to see, and that made him so exciting. Being with Yakov was like walking with her eyes closed—the darkness, the unknown, the depths at which she could fall.

Tatianna noticed her driver tracking her down, and with a reassuring smile, she met him and dove into the backseat. The smell of her cigars relaxed her, and she leaned back against the leather seat. She hesitated bringing Yakov up with her father because she knew what he would say. He would tell her to stay away. He wasn’t a man that Nevsky found ‘honorable’. Despite them both being in the mafia business, her father was convinced there was a nice way to operate. But the Morozovs had no regard for morality.

Tatianna’s home sat in the middle of town, and the cobblestone streets that had been built a hundred years ago were still part of the main road. Their house was just as old, with fresh paint and an upgraded interior. It was five stories, but thin. The bottom was the foyer and greeting hall. The second held the kitchen and dining room, while the upper levels held the bedrooms. Her room was small, meant only for an average bed and a closet that was stuffed to the brim with all her clothes. Her father had grown up in this house and refused to look for a better place.‘It’s the charm,’he would say when she would complain. All her friends had better houses than she did, it was nearly an embarrassment.

A maid stopped her halfway up the long flight of stairs to tell her Nevsky wanted to speak with her. An audible groan escaped her before she could stop it and made her way to her father’s office. He sat in the small square box with open windows that looked down on the cobble stone streets below and read the newspaper with an unlit cigar between his lips. Nevsky, like most of his children, had a huge nose that was more prominentthan the cigar sticking out. Tatianna always thanked her mother for not giving her such a deformity.

“Tati, how was the fitting?”

“Fine. But the dress is too extravagant, papa. I don’t want you to spend so much money.”

“Don’t you worry about that. It’s a man’s job to worry about money. And it’s a–”

“Woman’s job to spend it,” Tatianna grumbled, plopping in a chair. She looked over the desk to see the letter she gave him still sitting in the same spot on the desk. She deflated once more. The letter was about a job she was interested in, but she required her father’s approval before she could be hired. She thought in a time where half the men were gone fighting in a war, she’d finally get her chance to work.

“I’ve decided I’m not going to sign it,” her father stated after noticing her glance.

“Why?”

“Two reasons.” He folded up his paper and sat up. “First, I was born into poverty. For the first ten years of my life, I saw my mother and father get up and go to work for scraps, barely giving us enough to eat every week. My uncle bought them this house when I was twelve. My uncle took us from the crappy shed we lived in and gave us a home. I worked hard to be just like him. All his sons died in the war. But I survived. And he gave me everything, taught me everything. So no, I will not have my daughter working.”

Tatianna clenched her teeth but remained silent. He spoke like she hadn’t heard his sob story a hundred times over. It explained nothing because it had nothing to do with her.

“Two. You are about to be married and start a family. This job idea is silly, so get it out of your head.”

Tatianna stood. “Anything else?”

He eyed her, wondering if he should comment on her disrespect. He instead tossed her an envelope. “This arrived for you. No indication of who it was from, and a nameless servant delivered it. I could have opened it.”

She held it in her hand, brows knit as she looked it over. It shouldn’t have surprised her when she pulled the paper out and saw the monogrammed ‘M’ on the top of the letterhead.

‘Dear Miss Nevsky, since you are so inept with hostage situations, I decided to employ your help.’

Tatianna slipped the paper back into the envelope. “Just a girlfriend asking about the wedding. May I be dismissed?”

With a wave of his hand, Tatianna raced upstairs and locked her door before she yanked the paper out again and read the whole thing. Her knees weakened, and she stumbled for the bed. Yakov was asking for her advice. The head of the Morozov family wanted her opinion on his dealings. He was ridiculous in how much he revealed. She nearly wanted to call him on the telephone and berate him for the information he so willingly gave. It was like he wanted someone to snoop simply so he could catch them.

“That’s what he’s doing,” Tatianna whispered to herself. She slapped the parchment on the bed and cursed. “He wants to see if I’ll betray him.” The scoff came as she snatched up the paper once more. The situation he gave her was detailed and written in his handwriting. He had even signed it at the bottom. If she took this to her father, they could betray Morozov and set him up for failure. He was going after their biggest threat to the Morozov empire: the Rostovs. They had only begun their treaty before Yaroslav died. Yefim was sent as a peace offering to keep their families as allies, but here, Yakov had every intention of destroying the family.

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