Ghost (Boston Underworld #3) - A. Zavarelli Page 0,57

leave me. But he does.

And then it’s just Tanaka and I, in somewhat awkward silence for a few moments before she speaks.

“I don’t fit in here either,” she tells me.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

When I look at her, I can’t tell if she knows my background. But she seems to see me. And recognize something in me that she too is familiar with.

“I am simply collateral,” she tells me. “My father owes a large debt, and I am in Nikolai’s charge until he comes through with it.”

“Oh,” is my only reply.

I don’t want to feel sorry for her because sympathy is what gets you in trouble. But the more I examine her, the more I don’t think it is sympathy she needs anyway.

“When do you think that will be?” I ask her.

She shakes her head. “Never. My father cannot pay.”

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. “So what will happen to you?”

She sighs and then glances across the room. A flicker of something moves through her eyes when her gaze lands on Nikolai. Who is currently speaking to Katya, her hand on his arm like she owns him. It takes me a moment to read the emotion in Tanaka’s eyes. She has feelings for him. For her captor.

“Whatever Nikolai decides,” she says, tearing her gaze away.

I feel the need to comfort her. But I don’t have the right words.

“I was collateral too,” I blurt.

She looks at me and smiles. “Yes, I know.”

“You do?”

“I overheard Nikolai mention you.”

“Oh.”

The conversation dies off for a moment, and when I look around, I see more than a few questioning gazes being directed our way.

“Don’t worry,” Tanaka says. “You will get used to it. They don’t like you because they will never be you.”

“I don’t understand,” I tell her.

“Your husband.” She nods to the other room. “He is the ah… councilor to Viktor. He outranks their husbands in every way. Which means that you do also.”

“Oh.”

My mouth is dry, and I seem to have lost all conversational skills. Tanaka is kind though, and she just continues to talk, seemingly glad to have company.

“They are very traditional,” she says. “You will be starting a family soon, yes?”

I wring my hands in my lap. “That is what Alexei says.”

Except, family isn’t what Alexei and I have. It is an arrangement. Which I can never forget. Even when I glance at him across the room and find him looking back at me, a slight tilt to his lips.

“He is handsome,” Tanaka remarks. “You are lucky. Nikolai speaks very highly of him.”

“He does?”

I find that odd since I noticed the tension between the two on the last occasion. Alexei never even introduced us.

“He does.” Tanaka nods. “I do find it strange though. How similar they look in some regards. Don’t you?”

I can’t read her expression. But I don’t think she finds it strange at all. I think she’s trying to tell me something.

But then the man in question is at her side, speaking to her in Russian. By all outward appearances, he seems indifferent to her. But his focus on her lingers a little too long for that to be true. And it breathes hope into me. That Tanaka will not be lost to this world that seems to have trapped her too.

“Talia.” Nikolai bows in my direction. “I haven’t had a chance to properly introduce myself.”

I’m not sure what to do. If I’m supposed to rise to meet him. Or shake his hand. Or any of the protocols, really. But Nikolai puts my worries at ease when he kneels so that he is on the same level as Tanaka and I.

He has a friendly smile on his face. But his voice is low and serious when he speaks.

“I need to speak with you,” he says.

I look at Tanaka, her gaze reassuring and steady. As though she trusts Nikolai implicitly. And I should do the same. It eases my discomfort a little as he presses on.

“Alexei will not listen to me,” he says. “He won’t speak with me. But I know he will listen to you.”

I shift in my seat and simply nod.

“Sergei is not going to let this go. Neither is Katya, for that matter. You should both be careful.”

“Nikolai…” Tanaka’s voice cuts him off, and then a shadow falls over us.

Alexei.

His gaze is fixed on Nikolai, who stands up to face him. Angry words pass between them, both of their hands gesturing in a way that signals a long history of bad blood