Page 33 of The Debt

Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Tatiana’s fingers found her knife, gripping it like a lifeline as a tall man appeared in the doorway.

Her heart stopped mid-beat. The knife slipped from her suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered against fine china. The blood drained from her face as she stared light-headed at the last man she had expected to see.

Except, this wasn’t the same man she got to know. Gone was the kind-eyed businessman who had stolen her heart. The man before her seemed hard and cold. His dark eyes held none of the warmth that always held such power over her. In their place something ancient and dangerous lurked as he stared at her grandfather.

“Y-You?” The word barely escaped her constricted throat. Around them, the opulent dining room seemed to shrink as the air grew thick and heavy. “W-What are you doing here?”

The silence that followed felt like a tomb sealing shut.

Chapter Fifteen

Jarek

The luxurious estate of Gregor Polov, Berkeley Lake…

For long, terse moments, Jarek returned Gregor Polov’s stare. The Bratva Pakhan’s cold assessment and that he might find Jarek wanting didn’t bother him, especially not with the feeling of hate surging through him as they finally stood face to face.

Jarek’s fingers flexed. One quick move and he could end Polov’s life. The old man’s throat would crush like paper under his grip. The fantasy blazed bright, then dimmed—a quick death was too merciful.

The rich aromas of borscht and fresh-baked bread didn’t register. Even the crystal chandeliers, the gleaming silver, and the priceless artwork dimmed to the background as the silent stare-down continued.

Polov’s steel-gray eyes narrowed as Jarek met his gaze with equal intensity. They were two predators sizing each other up, neither prepared to show weakness. The air crackled with an unspoken challenge.

Rein yourself in. Remember, he has to suffer. Not momentarily, but for a very long time to come.

The mantra pulsed in time with the beat of his heart and managed to cool his raw fury into strategic purpose.

“Jarek?”

He blinked and turned his eyes to her. The shock on Tatiana’s face cut through his hatred like a blade. She was different from Polov, very different, and if he had retained one iota of the man he used to be, he wouldn’t have involved her. Perhaps even now, end the façade… but there was no turning back. That man, the generously emphatic Dr. Farrel, didn’t exist anymore. He shoved the twinge of guilt down without further thought. Now wasn’t the time to show remorse. The game was set, and if it was the last thing he ever did, it would be played out to the end.

“Mr. Polov.” Jarek’s voice remained steady despite the rage churning beneath. “Thank you for having me.”

“Having you?” Tatiana looked between the two men. “What the hell is going on here,Dedushka?”

Gregor shrugged. “I believe this is the man you claim you fell in love with, yes?”

Tatiana’s cheeks bloomed under Jarek’s stare, but it didn’t move him in the least. He already knew what she felt, even though she didn’t realize it.

“The question is howyouknow who he is.” She shook off the embarrassment as she frowned at her grandfather.

Jarek pushed his hands inside his pockets, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her eyes spitting fire at a man who was feared all over Atlanta and the South Coast.

“I contacted your grandfather, love.” Jarek smiled engagingly as her head snapped around. “It was time to put an end to his idiotic idea of you marrying an old man. It was putting a damper on our relationship moving forward.” He looked at Polov, unconcerned at the anger flashing in his eyes. “After all, this isn’t the medieval ages.”

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Polov barely managed to spit out the words.

“As the saying goes, if the shoe fits…”

“How dare you come into my house and insult—”

“Why don’t you introduce me to your young man, darling?” Elizabeth interrupted Polov with a gentle hand on his arm and a bright smile at Jarek. He wasn’t fooled. Behind her blinding pearly whites, he detected a steely resolve that would stand up even to the feared Pakhan should the need arise.

“Babushka, this is Jarek Farrel. Jarek, this is my grandma, Elizabeth Polov.” She gestured at the man by her side. “And I believe you already know my grandfather, Gregor Polov.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” he said with a gentle smile as he shook Elizabeth’s hand. His eyes turned glacial when he turned to Gregor. Still, he politely held out his hand. “We haven’t had the pleasure to officially meet, apart from a very short phone call.”

Polov didn’t move but continued to scowl at Jarek.

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