Page 9 of Slipping into the Dark Side

He fought a smile. “Girls typically scream.”

“When they are scared or shocked. I was neither.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. Tatianna didn’t know how to answer it. When she saw him standing there waiting for his brother to come barreling through the door, she had prepared herself for it. She thought she was going to watch them try to kill each other. But when he turned the gun on the audience, she remembered how he had looked at Demir at the funeral. The eyes of a killer weren’t hard to notice. For her at least.

Two fingertips ran down her spine, causing a terrible shiver. Yakov smirked as he watched her skin pebble.

“Don’t,” she whispered, but she didn’t move away. She didn’t change her position.

“You don’t belong with him.”

Tatianna hardened herself upon those words and pulled away, turning to face him. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Yet.” He smirked.

“You don’t even know me.”

“Normal girls scream. A normal girl marries a normal man. If that is what you want to be, then Fedor is a perfect match.” Yakov backed away as he heard the maid return. He wasn’t going to keep pushing. If she truly didn’t want to explore her options and she’d rather settle for less, then there was nothing he could do. Nothing he was willing to do anyway. He was now the new leader to the Morozov family. There would be plenty of women to choose from. “Just some advice for next time if you wish to continue your game.” Yakov turned from her. “Scream.”

Chapter five

Attack

Just her luck, Tatianna was sitting atanotherfuneral. The struggle to not roll her eyes was real, and she thanked the dark sunglasses, hiding her withered expression. It wasn’t that she wasn’t sad–though she wasn’t–-it was the fact that mourning for the dead should be a private thing, something done in the middle of the night where no one can hear the pathetic weeping or see the ugly expression people make in their sobs. A lot of work went into her makeup, and she wasn’t about to ruin it. Fedor stood beside her with a rigid back and stiff face. She held his hand like a dutiful girlfriend and patted him on the back when his emotions overcame him.

He is rather emotional for a man.

Tatianna didn’t understand how anyone could still be carrying on after forty days of grief. Thankfully, it was the last day of the grieving period, and tomorrow, all the clocks would be set right, and all the sheets would be taken off the mirrors. It was hell getting ready in Fedor’s home, and she wasn’t sure her hair was all in the right place.

The fallout from Yakov’s movements was still being felt. There was quiet in the Utkins household as everyone tiptoed around each other. Demir had six sons and one living brother. All thought themselves deserving of Utkins’ lands. And though Fedor was the oldest, he was also a bastard. The only child that was actually legitimate was twelve-year-old Micah. Fedor stood behind him, keeping a hand on his shoulder. He was the only brother who hired Micah a personal guard in case one of his half-brothers decided to kill him.

The reading of the will would be tomorrow, which was something Tatianna wassadto miss.

It did put her in a predicament. If Demir Utkins didn’t pass the lands to Fedor, then marrying him wouldn’t benefit her family. And it would make her look used. A rumor of Fedor taking her to his bed was all that needed to escalate, and her reputation would be tarnished. She would be seen as damaged goods.

Her future depended on Fedor.

And Tatianna didn’t like that. She wasn’t the kind of woman that sat around. Marrying Fedor had been her idea. He was the easiest to manage out of all the sons. And he was the kindest. She couldn’t have asked for a better match.

Fedor’s younger brother, Sergey, approached. He had too much of his father in his face and in the beady of his dirty brown eyes. Tatianna had to hide her cringe. He had just turned fifteen and still possessed some childish features in his cheeks. Undoubtedly, he would grow to be attractive, but he was anoddball. Too polite, in Tatianna’s opinion, probably to hide some narcissism.

“It is a beautiful day, is it not?” he began with a sweeping gesture of the lands. It was full of people from the small town down the hill. Utkins governed them for forty years, and he did so with generosity. But there was also the expectation that if Demir wanted anything, the people would be required to give it. Land, a priceless heirloom, a daughter; his wants were unpredictable. She was sure when the news spread through the bars and brothels, there was a quiet celebration of his passing.

“Miss Nevsky, you really have to tell me what you use in your hair,” he flicked his hands through his black tresses. “I can’t seem to fix this mess upon my head.”

She didn’t know if he was patronizing or actually wanting an answer. Tatianna opened her mouth when a scream cut through the yard. She spun her head as Fedor gripped her arm, pulling her in a different direction. “What’s going on?”

“Come, come,” he demanded as he removed his gun from the inside of his coat.

A gun went off in the distance, and the sound echoed across the vast land like a wave. The lantern not inches from her shattered, and a piece of it sliced at her calf. She gasped and almost fell if not for Fedor pulling along, “Get up!”

“What’s going on!” she asked again, limping as she ran.

“There’s a revolt. I knew this would happen. I have men posted.”

“You knew this, and you didn’t tell me?”

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