Little Tsaritsa Ch. 10

X

o0o

She stared at Arkady's cool, handsome features for a couple of moments, and the way he was staring at her made it all too easy for her to feel like she was a child who'd committed a fairly serious transgression.

Arkady Suvorin was not respected and feared for nothing. One could attribute his good looks and powerful build to luck in genetics, but his intelligence and ruthlessness made these physical advantages all the more devastating. The same eyes that so easily pierced her with their heat could stare across a table with a predatory gaze that stopped his enemies cold.

She'd been with this man for half a year now and had certainly seen his dominant side, but she'd never done anything to try to piss him off, not that she had a real reason to. She wasn't about to bite the hand that fed her, after all.

As she stared back at him, processing these thoughts, she realized that he had no reason to be angry at her. She'd simply spent time with a friend, and so what if she'd chosen to not answer her phone while hanging out with Anatoly and her new friends? Cheating on Arkady had been the furthest thing from her mind as she renewed her acquaintance with an old childhood chum.

"When I ask a question, I expect an answer, Nadezhda," his voice cut into her ruminations.

"I'm sure you do," she replied casually, making her way across the foyer into the kitchen area. Her heart was pounding, but she maintained her calm as she moved around to make herself a cup of coffee. She could almost feel his stare burn a hole in her back as she placed a pod into the Keurig coffee-maker ensuring there was enough water before pressing the 'brew' button.

What was Arkady doing, spying on her anyway? How did he know she was with some guy?

"Do you have any intention of answering my question?" he asked as she pulled two mugs out from the cupboard, a black one for her and a red one for him. She put the black one in the machine, becoming aware of the faint tremble of her hand.

"When were you going to tell me you were keeping tabs on me?" she finally answered after a couple of seconds, staring at the empty mugs before turning to face him. "Are there cameras in this apartment? A tracking device in my car? What?"

"That is not what we are discussing here, Nadezhda," he countered evenly. She let out a short laugh.

"I'm not answering your question until you answer mine," she said, her mind scrambling at what the fuck she was going to do if there were indeed cameras.

"It's a ridiculous question," Arkady countered, his eyes glinting with cold heat as he squared his shoulders. Even then, he managed to look sexy, but at this moment, with his glare, it was something that would appeal only to women who liked danger, and Nadezhda did not consider herself that type of woman. Despite her fear, she felt her ire well up within her as she thought of the way he'd managed to effectively take control of her life, and her bed in the process. He was responsible for her college, her apartment, her car, and any of the nice things she had, including the fine jewelry, and the top-of-the-line smartphone he'd given her a couple of months ago to replace the prepaid one she'd been using for several years.

And what was worse, she'd become complacent. In the beginning, she reminded herself constantly that all of this was just an arrangement, one which was mutually beneficial to both parties, but she'd keep her heart guarded, take what he was giving her, and use it as a foundation for a stable and even prosperous future. That was all this was supposed to be. He would tire of her eventually, she was certain, and why shouldn't he? He was powerful and good-looking, and could have any of a number of women who were far more beautiful and elegant than she. What was she after all, but a teenage girl who'd been in a rough patch, and needed saving? She'd be twenty in a few months, and surely the whole 'damsel in distress' thing would wear off in due time.

One day, he would tell her that it was time to part ways, and she would be prepared for it, and leave his life with no fuss.

But until that time, she was loyal to him. She put out when he asked, though accommodation was made for when she was on her period or the couple of times she'd been sick or unwell.

"It's not! You're not the fucking boss of me!" she snapped, throwing up her arms. "Our agreement was that I would be your mistress, and you would pay for my college! You know how I struggled before this, how fucking stupid do you think I am that I would jeopardize that! Your question is idiotic and insulting, and I want you to leave now!"

He squared his shoulders, and for one long, horrible moment, she feared that he would actually strike her. They stared at one another, and though it seemed ridiculous, she could almost swear he was attempting to smirk but was unable to.

"If that is your wish, little tsaritsa," he finally said flatly before retreating from the table. She blinked but was unable to think of anything to say that made sense to her at this moment. He turned from her and disappeared around the corner before she heard the door open and close. He didn't even slam it. It was not until she heard the quiet click before she realized she had been holding her breath.

Bonelessly, she slid to the floor, her hands trembling, barely conscious of the thin beeping that signaled that a cup of coffee had been brewed.

o0o

After several minutes, she finally rose to her feet, pulling the mug out of the machine, staring down at it, seeing her reflection on the dark surface as she gathered her thoughts, attempting to make sense of what the ever-loving fuck had just happened.

She had felt so brave, ready to butt heads with Arkady, and then he'd left her almost fainting. God, what would even have happened if he hadn't left?

"Wow." She took a deep breath, pressing her hands to the counter, savoring the feel of the cool marble under her palms. "Okay." Closing her eyes, she pondered her next actions. In this sort of situation, some people would have been advised to apologize, just to not rock the boat.

Why should she? She had done absolutely nothing wrong. It hadn't even crossed her mind to be on anything more than friendly terms with Anatoly. If Arkady thought so low of her, well, that was his problem. Fucking alpha male, thinking he could control everything!

Well, he could make her life a living hell, if he so chose. People could technically be in the right, morally or legally, but that didn't mean their own actions or choices couldn't impact them negatively. Especially when other people chose to not play fair, because as the world - not to mention her own life experience - showed there were enough assholes walking around who didn't care about what was fair.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." She opened her eyes, adding some cream to her coffee before sitting down at the island on the stool Arkady had vacated.

First things first, how was he keeping tabs on her? Perhaps he did have a GPS on her car, but she hadn't used it today, taking the bus to campus for class before getting a ride home from Anatoly. She was certain she wasn't microchipped like a cat or dog. That'd be beyond fucked up. Perhaps there was some bug in her purse, or...

Her hand reached down to her pocket, pulling out her phone. Compared to the pre-paid one she'd gotten as soon as she was able to buy a phone for herself, the top-of-the-line device that was in her possession for a relatively short time was almost like comparing an automobile to a horse-and-buggy. Recalling the frustration she'd dealt with in regards to slow download times among other things on her old device, the phone Arkady had given her seemed almost like magic. Though it would be months before Christmas or her birthday came up, he insisted on giving it to her after witnessing her frustration with her old phone, and she hadn't been about to object to a kind gesture.

But was that gesture truly so altruistic? Tapping the screen, she went through several options and menus before finally finding what she was looking for and looking at the list of software that was installed on her phone. She wasn't an expert on computers and had to look up some of the applications, which had come pre-installed on the device. They were generally benign, most of them never used by her. With a thoughtful frown, she scrolled down the list and blinked when she saw a curious-sounding name near the bottom of the alphabetically-ordered list.

A search confirmed her suspicions. According to the search results, such a program was used to track one's location, and if so desired, it would send the interested party updates as often as specified and was one of the better ones of its kind.

"Well, fuck," she muttered to herself. Her gut reaction was to remove the program, but she stopped herself from clicking the Uninstall button. If she removed the program, what would happen? Would Arkady tighten his surveillance? She stared at the screen for several moments, pondering her options before tapping 'Back' and returning to the main screen.

o0o

"How's your dinner?" Mrs. Cunningham asked as Nadezhda scooped a second helping of spinach tortelloni onto her plate.

"Totally hits the spot," Nadezhda replied cheerily as she ladled some alfredo sauce on top of it. Back when her mother had been sick, Katya Cunningham had sometimes brought food over for them and had done so several times after Julia's funeral. Though Katya might have been Russian-American by descent, she loved Italian food and learned how to cook a decent variety of Italian dishes. "It's been too long since I had this tortelloni," she added before she forked some of it into her mouth.

"You don't need to be a stranger, then," Katya replied cheerfully. "I know you've been busy with college and work, but that doesn't mean you can't have friends, too."

Nadezhda smiled at that. Already, after her mother's death, she had known that her father wouldn't be of any help when it came to college, so she'd worked all through her remaining time in high school, not having much of a social life between classes and her uncle's restaurant. Katya was right. It truly had been great refreshing her acquaintance with Anatoly, and since she no longer had to work to support herself, that left her more free time than she had had in a few years.

Well... that might change. After what had happened with Arkady, her future was cast into some uncertainty. If she severed ties with him, she would have to seek employment again.

That was, if Arkady would let her go. Would he? She'd left her new phone at home, keeping her old phone in her pocket for emergencies as it still had minutes and data on it - she'd never bothered to cancel the plan.

"You're right. It's been a hard time since... you know," Nadezhda said. Katya and her husband nodded sympathetically. "Sometimes it seems almost like yesterday when Mom told me that she'd been diagnosed. And then I look at what has happened since and... where did all the time go?" She glanced across the table at Tatiana, the teenage girl that she remembered being in diapers. "I remember being in elementary school, and walking to and home from school with Anatoly and Sergei and Marya, and you'd come running to the door wanting to go with us because you thought school sounded fun and exciting," she finished with a grin.

Tatiana mock rolled her eyes. "I've since come to learn otherwise. At least school's optional for you now," she scoffed.

"Yeah, Tatiana's not a big fan of school," Anatoly cheerily observed before he took a bite out of a slice of garlic bread.

"Yeah, because it sucks," the teenager replied.

"Tatiana!" Katya scolded. "Education is important."

"I already know the readin', 'ritin, and 'rithmetic," Tatiana replied with an attitude that Nadezhda recalled having at that age, at least sometimes. What thirteen-year-old didn't go through such a phrase?

"I'm afraid it takes more than that," Nadezhda replied, but not without sympathy. "But, I'll admit that if I could revamp the educational system, I'd have quite a few tweaks for it."

"Like not getting up so early?' Tatiana asked.

"Among other things!" Nadezhda replied.

"I can agree with that," Anatoly said with a small laugh. "Teenagers are more wired to stay up and wake up later, anyway. I read that in some article."

"So a shorter school day, then?" Tatiana asked.

"God knows I'd have liked shorter school days," Nadezhda replied dryly. "I remember middle school could be a real drag, but you do have quite a bit of time to go before you need to decide what to do."

"I thought time went by before you knew it," Tatiana retorted lightly.

"It does," Katya commented. "Sometimes it seems like only yesterday that I was having my wedding day, and now here I am, with five children, my youngest already a teenager. You need to make the most of what time you have because you never know how much you're going to be given." Her gaze drifted from her daughter to her guest.

o0o

Nadezhda stepped out of her shoes after she locked her door and slid the deadbolt home, stepping into the quiet darkness of the apartment, alert to any sound or movement.

The fight with Arkady had been three days ago, and she'd not heard one word from him since. She'd kept her phone nearby, with the exception of going over to the Cunningham house, and during these days, she'd seriously pondered checking herself into a hotel or a women's shelter. She knew that provoking Arkady and then kicking him out the other night could have very well been an exceedingly stupid move. How often had she heard stories of women who'd been murdered by jealous boyfriends, husbands, or exes? Or if not murder, then perhaps sexual slavery.

If Arkady was indeed planning something, well, she knew he had plenty of resources at his disposal. Was she going to have to go off the grid if she had any hope of surviving? He probably knew people who could track her debit and credit card usage, and all that crap.

It was all too easy to get caught up in the heat of the moment, and then have regrets sink in later. Why couldn't it be the other way around? Actually, it seemed a lot of things in the world would be better if the order of two things were switched around. Then she'd be done with the regret and worry, and be riding high now.

She shouldn't be regretting standing up to him. She knew it was the right thing to do, for herself. But knowing, and the word should, didn't necessarily mean that things would work out the way that was supposed to be right. Her parent's relationship, and their eventual demises, were proof enough of that.

Padding over to the island in the kitchen, she looked down at the phone on the polished marble counter. Out of a healthy sense of self-preservation, she still checked the phone a few times a day in case he chose to text her. Aside from a couple of school-related messages, there were no other texts. But there was a missed call from him, from about two hours ago. She'd been enjoying dinner at the Cunninghams' house.

She looked down at the phone, thumb hovering above the 'Call Back' icon. Should she, or shouldn't she?

When the phone rang, she nearly dropped it, and she barely registered the caller's identity before she answered it. Dimly, she was aware of the pounding of her heart as she lifted the phone to the side of her head.

"Hello," she said softly, forcing the word past the lump in her throat.

"Good evening, Nadezhda," came the smooth, deep voice she'd come to know so well. The rapidly-forming knot in her stomach distracted her from the strength of her heartbeat, and she swallowed thickly. Damn Arkady and the effect he had on her. "How are you?" he asked.

"... I am fine," she managed to reply, doing her best to steel herself and sound calm. Reminding herself that she had done nothing wrong, she made her way over to the couch and sat down. "How about you?"

"Ya v poryadke, spasibo za vopros." I am well, thank you for asking.

"Eto priyatno slyshat." That is good to hear. Without thinking, she'd slid into speaking Russian as soon as she heard it from him. She leaned back against the cushion, wondering what he had planned. And when - and where - the other proverbial shoe was going to drop.

"Posledniye neskol'ko dney ya byl zanyat. No ya postoyanno dumal o tebe." I have been busy these last few days. But my thoughts have been about you, constantly.

"Eto tak?" Is that so? She wondered what his thoughts regarding her concerned, specifically. Did he miss her like usual, or had he been scheming up some punishment?

"You know it is so," Arkady replied firmly. "In fact, I want to have dinner with you tomorrow night."

Part of her wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. After giving her the silent treatment for several days, he thought he could just take her out to dinner or have her cook him one of her spectacular meals like nothing had happened? It was so damn tempting to bring up the tracking app on her phone, but she knew now was not the time.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked neutrally as she gazed up at the pale ceiling.

"Does eating out sound good?" he asked.

"... Sure." At least the bastard wasn't expecting her to cook for him.

"Any particular cuisine you have an appetite for?"

"It's been a while since I had Mexican," she replied, wondering if he was trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

"How about Gato Rojo at seven?"

"Sounds good to me."

"Excellent. I look forward to it, Nadezhda. Should I come to pick you up?"

"No, I'll find my way there," she replied quickly.

"Very well. I'll see you then. Good night and sweet dreams."

"You too," she whispered before setting her phone down. If he didn't have a consequence planned for her, was he going to just pretend nothing had happened, and just sweep it all under a rug?

She supposed that would be better than him wanting to punish her, but a rug-sweeping attitude wasn't a very healthy mindset either. Although it was definitely the lesser of two evils...

o0o

She spent much of that night, and the next day, pondering her options and strategy. Should she dress all hot and sexy, or go for a businesslike look? Should she ask someone - she briefly considered Anatoly - to 'chaperon' her by sitting at another table and keeping an eye on her? Should she take her car - which possibly had its own tracker - or Uber it or use public transit? What would she say if he wanted to spend the rest of the night with her?

It felt weird considering all that. She'd been with Arkady for half a year now and it was sobering to think that despite all the intimacy they'd shared, there were certain things that she knew little of when it came to the man who - despite his protestation when she'd used the phrase before - was still essentially her sugar-daddy.

She'd decided to go ahead and use her car because, after all, as she'd told herself multiple times, she had nothing to hide. She'd agreed to meet Arkady here, and using another mode of transit might alert him that she was on to him.

Gato Rojo firmly asserted its presence with a neon red-light sign of a cat in a sombrero, which had reminded her of Pepito the Cat from The Simpsons TV show the first time she'd seen it when she'd eaten here with Arkady a couple of months ago. Despite the cheesiness of the cartoon feline grinning down at people who walked by the restaurant or pulled into the parking lot, the food was good.

Finding a decently-lit spot near the exit of the lot, she stepped out, the heels of her boots clicking softly against the pavement as she approached the small patio that opened into the building.

Arkady was at the bar, and she wanted to curse herself for the flip-flop her stomach performed as she gazed at him, taking in the immaculate fit of his dark suit, the fine taste he displayed in the red-and-gold paisley tie that complemented his black shirt, the thick blond hair pulled back in a loose yet dignified ponytail, and the regal cut of his features as his attention focused on her.