Blurred Lines

Chapter 25

Danil Petrov and his wife Elenor gave Ruslan and Abigail a late brunch that afternoon in a restaurant Petrov closed off for the occasion.

Ruslan's discomfort at having Abigail meet Danil for the first time while she was still so visibly struggling to adapt to her new life put him in a testy mood. While he'd politely tried to explain to Petrov that a brunch was unnecessary, knowing how dire it would be if Abigail jeopardised this meeting, Petrov had refused to take no for an answer. He said he insisted on meeting the woman who had finally convinced the great Lionman to marry.

Ruslan knew he was curious and wanted to welcome Abigail into the family in his own unique way. A way which would allow him to assess any potential danger that could arise from his right hand man making an error in judgement.

Before they got to the restaurant Ruslan had pulled her aside to lay the ground rules.

"Don't talk unnecessarily. Speak only when you're spoken to, otherwise keep your mouth shut. Answer what is asked, nothing more. Don't be overly forthcoming; no details, just an outline. Be warm, but not informal. And last of all show him respect. He won't appreciate your smart mouth."

Abigail rolled her eyes.

"Hey, are you listening?" Ruslan said, sounding more agitated than she'd ever heard him sound before.

"This is exactly the kind of shit I'm talking about. Don't be disrespectful or too American, or that smart mouth of yours will find itself in St. Petersburg."

She rolled her eyes incredulously.

"It's not sounding like such a bad idea anymore," she mumbled, more to herself than for Ruslan's benefit.

"You don't know these people, so tread cautiously and don't overshare like you've been friends for years. Talking too much is an American habit. Keep it simple. We dated a little, you fell pregnant, we got married. Understood?"

"Such a romantic story," Abigail fake gushed. "Every little girl's dream."

Ruslan tilted his head sideways, closing his eyes as he cracked his neck.

She took a step back, knowing that his attempt to be patient was teetering in a fragile territory.

"I'm sorry. I can see you're anxious, but you're making me nervous. I get it, I won't talk unnecessarily and I'll be polite and cordial. I know who Danil Petrov is. I worked at the Den for enough years to know that the only reason he wants to meet me is to find out who I am, not because he has any interest in getting to know me."

Ruslan turned to her with surprise. She was smarter than she looked.

"I'll play your dutiful wife," she smiled, "but I want something in return."

He watched as her eyes sparkled. He hadn't seen her so spirited for days.

He put his hands in his pockets, deliberately pushing his jacket lapels back to reveal his gun.

"Oh, is that supposed to scare me? What are you going to do? Shoot a pregnant woman? Oh, I forgot. You already tried that."

"I'm still tempted," he said, exhaling loudly as his eyes narrowed in on her.

Abigail ignored him.

"You want me to play the good Russian wife so your boss doesn't get alarmed by the fact that you kidnapped me and forced me to marry you, well, it's going to cost you," she said matter of factly. It felt good having some power for once.

He took a step toward her making her take a tentative step back.

"I get to leave the apartment when I want. That means I get to go and come as I please, without calling you or letting you know first."