Page 4 of Slipping into the Dark Side

Fedor kept them moving through the room, trying to find a crowd that was interested in talking to him. Unfortunately, being the only black man in the room, they were met more with looks of worry and whispers. He ended up standing behind his father, Damir Utkins, who was seventy-two with a big round belly and a missing arm he lost in a war. Rumor was his father raped a black woman in service twenty years ago, and being poor, she had no option but to give Fedor up. Damir had been ‘gracious’ enough to take the child in.

Tatianna never looked the man in the eye. She was sure she’d take the knife hidden at her thigh and plunge it into his socket if she was ever given the chance.

“I should have known better,” Fedor began. “What could the son of the Morozovs have to talk to me about? The whole entire organization is here.”

Tatianna patted his arm for his disappointment. He thought Yakov wanted to speak to him about business. But she didn’t understand how Fedor could think on the day of his father’s funeral that Yakov wouldn’t have other things to do.

Fedor wanted out of his town as much as Tatianna did. He had ambition, a drive that most men envied. Despite his color, he was breaking through barriers and forcing his way into society. She loved that about him, how he never took ‘no’ for an answer and managed to constantly change ignorant minds simply with conversation. She had no doubt he would go somewhere, whichwas why she clung to him. He was her way out of boredom and mediocrity. Even if he didn’t have a romantic bone in his body.

What man does?She humored herself, taking a sip.

“Fedor,” Yakov greeted, and Tatianna nearly choked on her drink. She patted her lips as the men shook hands. “I’m glad you could make it.” His brilliant blue eyes glanced toward her. “Miss Nevsky.” He inclined his head, and she gave the same, swallowing harshly.

Fedor’s father, Damir, turned to Yakov and greeted him. “I was surprised by the invitation when my son came up to me, I must admit. But thank you for the generous offer.”

“The southern families are all welcome here. My father paid little attention to the South, but I have some business ideas I would love to run by you. I believe Mr. Nevsky is around here as well.”

“My father?” Tatianna wondered, glancing over her shoulder. “He didn’t mention it.”

Damir took over the conversation, “Business ideas? Excuse me for asking, but have these been brought up to your brother?”

Tatianna felt the pause in conversation like a rock plopped into a body of water. Yakov kept his hands clasped behind his back, keeping his intimidating stare on Damir. “Of course.” The lie was more telling than the hesitation. “I would never go behind my brother’s back if that’s what you are implying.”

The temperature drop caused a sudden chill, and Tatianna would have shivered if she didn’t find it funny as hell.Finally, some entertainment.

Damir stumbled at his words. “No, no, of course not. I was just–”

“I’d like a conversation with your son,” Yakov cut off his stutters. “If you don’t mind.” He gestured, and Fedor was caught between being on his father’s side or Yakov’s, but in the end, he knew who held more power.

“Of course.” Fedor kissed Tatianna’s cheek, dared a glance at Damir, and walked with Yakov to a room. Tatianna watched them go and though Fedor kept looking behind him, concerned what he was getting himself into, she only offered him a soft smile. As soon as he was gone, her happiness fled.

Yakov was a lion, and he knew Fedor was a gazelle. If Yakov’s sight was set on her fiancée, she was going to have to find a way to protect him.

What is a Morozov’s weakness?

Chapter three

Proposal

It was three hours of waiting, and Tatianna was done with it. Her feet hurt. She was sick of the conversation and the fake pleasantness or, worse, the fake grieving. No one here was sad that Yaroslav Morozov was dead. There should be a freaking celebration, and there might be, if she could get out of this house and go home.

But she was lost.

The house ate up so much land it deserved its own town name. There were dozens of rooms, so many freaking hallways, and now she was officially unsure how to get back to the banquet hall. Tatianna fell back against the wall, removing a heel to rub her foot.

Despite the aggravation, she wondered what it would be like to live here. There was electricity throughout the whole house which she thought was an impossibility till now as she stood underneath a lamp, trying to see all the wires.

In her home, they had electricity in the kitchen, but everywhere else, there were candles. It was devilishly hot, and she sweated all day long. But here, she noticed a delightful breeze that kept the hallways slightly cool, and she wondered if it were possible to have air conditioning.

This was why Tatianna was ready to leave her small, poor town. She deserved the finer things in life. Her hair and makeup would last much longer in this kind of place.

“There you are.”

Tatianna snapped her head down the hall as Yakov approached with his hands casually in his pockets. His black jacket had been removed, and the first few buttons on his white shirt were undone. The way her stomach twisted at the sight of him was a terrible thing to feel, and she quickly slipped her shoe back on and straightened, slapping on the best mask she could muster.

“Mr. Morozov,” she greeted. “I got lost.”

He chuckled as he paused in front of her. “I noticed. But thankfully, I have many servants who keep a lookout for strays, so I knew where to look. I, however, might have sent your fiancée to the gardens.” Yakov took a purposeful step forward, and Tatianna took an obvious step back.

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