A Treacherous King- Dark Mafia Romance

four

Maeve

I'm sitting in the green wingback chair by the window looking out at a garden. Tall hedges line a cobblestone pathway to a large gazebo in the middle of the yard. Moss has overgrown it and hangs down, wrapping around the columns. I can't see much else, it's getting dark.

Nadia came in about twenty minutes ago and informed me that dinner was being served at six. She didn't pressure me, but I could tell joining them would mean a lot to her.

I twist the ring on my finger. I've contemplated the idea of going down there at least a million times, but as soon as I reach for the door knob, I chicken out. This is ridiculous. I am acting like a teenager who stormed off and slammed the door after getting into an argument with their parents. Now I'm hungry but too stubborn to go back downstairs. Kind of the same analogy but not the same at all.

Okay fuck it, I will go. I mean what is the worst that will happen? Him pulling a gun on me during dessert? Why must my brain think such macabre thoughts?

I go to the door and ease it open with a squeak. I peek my head out first. It seems my room or I should say the room I woke up in, is the last room on the right. There doesn't seem to be anyone out in the hallway so I open the door wider and take a step out. The floor is blindingly white marble and cold on my feet, sending a shiver up my spine. I tiptoe towards the winding staircase and grip the iron railing.

Silently descending the stairs, I am suddenly hit with the unmistakable voice of Nadia. Her voice is strained like she's trying to control her anger. I can't really make out what she's saying, she's speaking too fast.

While I'm still trying to decipher what Nadia is saying, another voice cuts her off. Most definitely male. His voice is deep and demanding, dripping with authority. And oddly familiar.

I ease down a few more stairs, the staircase winding around enough where I can see light coming from a room to my right. The voices are now much clearer, but I realize that they are speaking Russian. When the guy finishes whatever it was he was saying, a third voice joins them. Another male. He seems more relaxed than the other guy. I can't understand what the hell he is saying either but it's almost like he's trying to mediate the argument.

I realize I'm not going to learn anything from my snooping with them speaking utter gibberish to me. I finish my descent down the stairs and go in the direction of the voices.

I stop at the threshold of a lavish dining area. It looks like something straight out of the renaissance period. A deep cherry oak dining table sits in the center. An antique shimmering crystal chandelier hangs low from the ceiling casting shadows on the walls. Old oil paintings depicting different men and women adorn the cream colored walls. A fire is roaring and crackling from a stone fireplace.

The conversation halts as soon as I step into the room. Three pairs of eyes land on me. One pair is staring daggers into my soul. I twist my ring around on my finger nervously. I notice that all three individuals are dressed to the nines. Tailored suits and couture dresses. I glance down at my plum colored silk pajamas and bare feet, feeling my cheeks heat. A smile breaks out across Nadia's face as she gets up from the table and comes towards me.

"You came!" She squeals. "Come. Have a seat." She grabs my arm and pulls me toward the table. She pulls out the chair next to hers and motions for me to sit. I do so but sit with my spine stick straight. I need to be on guard in case shit hits the fan. Nadia takes her seat back at the table. The tension is so thick in the air I'm feeling nauseous.

"Do you like champagne? Or if you prefer something else I can go grab it." Nadia asks, giving me a reassuring smile.

"Champagne is fine, thanks." I swallow hard.