The Art of Negotiation

KAIA

My heart was racing, pounding against my ribcage as I wondered what he was going to ask me.

“Eat, kotik,” he encouraged. “You’re going to need your strength.”

~Strength? For what exactly?~

I felt trapped, like a mouse cornered by a prowling cat, and all I wanted was to escape before I got hurt.

“Just ask your questions so I can get out of here.”

Aleksandr didn’t stop eating.

“Finish your meal, then we’ll talk.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to budge until I’d eaten, I reluctantly took a few bites, washing them down with sips of Felik’s surprisingly good coffee.

After I’d consumed half the omelet and a couple of pear slices from the fruit bowl, I let my fork clatter onto the table.

“Okay, I’m done. Ask away.”

“Do you always have such a sharp tongue?”

I gasped, unsure if it was shock or indignation that caused my reaction.

“Only when I’m being held captive,” I retorted with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

Aleksandr wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair.

“That mouth of yours,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “It’s going to land you in trouble, kotik.”

I pressed my lips together, his new pet name for me stirring something within me, especially when he said it in that deep, accented voice.

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your kitten.”

His eyes sparkled, as if he was enjoying our verbal sparring.

“Ah, so you ~do~ understand Russian.”

I bit my lip, annoyed at myself for revealing that so easily. Damn it, he wasn’t supposed to know that. But he was getting under my skin with his intense gaze, his intoxicating scent, his mere presence.

“Tell me your last name, Kaia.”

“Smith,” I replied without hesitation, prepared for him to ask me this again. It was the alias Irina and I used in the States to stay under the radar. There were over two million Smiths in the States alone.

His lips curled in a frown.

“How unimaginative, kotik,” he drawled. “But if that’s how you want to play it.” He shrugged and picked up his coffee again.

“Why do you need to know my last name?”

“Why did you break into my warehouse?” he shot back.

I stiffened.

~How did he find out?~ I was sure I’d checked for cameras before I went in and installed the malware. I must have missed one.

“Was it for Cristo? You said you worked for him. Did he send you to gather information?”

If he discovered I’d been searching for information on Lipeshin to find Mama and Ilya, he’d eventually connect the dots to my father. He’d realize that his father had labeled mine a traitor and had him executed along with the rest of my friends and family. Would he understand that I wanted answers? That part of me sought revenge for them. I couldn’t let him know that. Not until I had the information I needed.

He’d unknowingly given me an easy way out, so I simply nodded.

He fixed me with a piercing gaze and then, with the predatory grace of a big cat preparing to pounce, he slowly rose, looming over me in my chair. His scent reached me before he did, causing me to grip the arms of my chair.

One of his fingers gently lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze.

“So Cristo sent you to that warehouse. Alone? Without any of his men to protect you?”

His fingers moved to my throat, his thumb hovering over my pulse, which quickened at his question.

“Yes.” My pulse pounded even harder, and Aleksandr’s thumb stroked over it, sending it into overdrive before he leaned in, his warm breath brushing against my cheek.

“If you’re going to lie to me, kotik, I’ll send you back to your room. You can eat your meals there.”

He dropped his hand and turned his back to me. He reached for his phone on the table, no doubt to call his lackey Niko to do his bidding.

I had to think quickly. I’d managed to negotiate with Cristo. Maybe I could do the same with Aleksandr.

A plan began to form in my mind. It would give me access to his system from the inside. I just needed him to trust me.

“I can work for you,” I blurted out.

Aleksandr lowered the phone and looked at me, curiosity in his eyes.

“Trying to negotiate with me, kotik?” His voice held a note of amusement. “You’ll have to offer more than that for your freedom.”

His gaze held a peculiar intensity that sent a shiver down my spine, hinting at something unspoken.

“Like what?” I managed to choke out. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

His playful demeanor disappeared, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“I have no intention of sleeping with you, kotik, despite how enticing the idea might be.”

My mouth opened, ready to argue, then snapped shut. How could he insult and flatter me in the same breath? His words should’ve reassured me, but instead, they unsettled me in a way I didn’t want to comprehend.

“Help me find my sister. I need to know if she’s really gone. In exchange, I’ll work for you. I’m a skilled hacker.”

Aleksandr’s expression was doubtful.

“I already have a hacker.”

My anger flared.

~I should’ve known.~

That explained why I couldn’t breach his firewalls.

“I don’t need another hacker. But I could use a date.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“A date?”

Aleksandr nodded.

“I have a charity event tonight. Be my date.”

His statement wasn’t a question.

“If I accompany you to this… charity event, you’ll release me afterward?”

Aleksandr laughed softly.

“I’ll make a deal with you, kotik.” He moved closer, his fingers lightly grazing my cheek.

He might not want to sleep with me, but he seemed to have no issue with touching me.

“Accompany me to a few dinners, and I promise I’ll help you find closure about your sister.”

His words were chosen with care, I noticed.

“I want to help.”

His gaze hardened.

“~If~ she’s alive, Andrey will find her.”

~Andrey?~ My mouth fell open. He couldn’t possibly mean who I thought he did.

“~Andrey Razin?~”

Aleksandr nodded.

“You’ve heard of him,” he sounded satisfied.

I nodded, my face a mask of shock.

“The hangman. Can I meet him?” Because Aleksandr was right. If anyone could find Irina, it would be him. No wonder Aleksandr knew I’d infiltrated his warehouse. He had the hangman on his payroll.

I’d heard that not only was there a firewall he couldn’t breach, but some of his actions were so heinous they drove people to suicide. That’s how he got his nickname.

Aleksandr’s face darkened, as if he didn’t like the idea of me wanting to meet another man.

“No.” His reply was sharp. “Do we have a deal?”

Attend a few dinners, smile, and look pretty? I’d rather walk barefoot on broken glass. But this was my best shot at getting what I wanted.

I pushed back my chair and extended my hand.

I didn’t miss the slight smile that played on his lips as he enveloped my hand in his.