Page 99 of Avenging Azalea

“Is that so? Sounds like a load of crap to me,” he said.

I was going to argue more, but it seemed like a fruitless effort.

“Good evening, Mr. Mikhailov. It’s lovely to see you again. I’ve reserved your table,” the maître de said. It was obvious he was a regular, maybe even the entire family. When we stepped into the dining area, my adrenaline spiked, and the unease crept higher.

I’d worn my best dress, which happened to be one that Steph had helped me pick out. It was a dark emerald green that stopped at my knees and had a modest neckline. The looks shot my way from around the room had me looking down to make sure I hadn’t accidentally put on a paper bag.

We were escorted to a booth in the far corner, and as I slid in, tucked out of sight, the nervous shaking settled. Two of Mr. Mikhailov’s guards had followed us inside and were now near the bar. If they were trying to look like they fit in, they were failing miserably.

“This is lovely,” I said, picking up the menu and almost passing out from shock.

Are you fucking kidding me? There wasn’t anything, not even a salad, under a hundred dollars. What the hell did you do to a salad to have it cost that much?

“Yes, it’s one of my favorites. Order whatever you like. It’s my treat,” Dimitri said, before turning to the waiter who seemed to appear out of nowhere. “Two bottles of the red I have on hold and a whiskey neat?”

The waiter nodded and walked away without acknowledging me. If nothing else had made me uncomfortable, that certainly did.

“Fawn, I must say you look stunning this evening. You’ve certainly grown up since the last time I saw you,” he said. An old trepidation spread throughout my body like fire ants under my skin. “I can see why Titus keeps you hidden away.”

I glanced at the door and wondered how far I’d make it if I just got up and ran.

“I wouldn’t say that Titus keeps me hidden, just that we established lines when I first arrived that have remained in place.”

“I see.”

Those two seemingly innocent words sounded quite condescending. The tone of his voice called me a liar, the arch in his eyebrow was mocking, and the way he dismissed the conversation and looked at his menu made the first sparks of anger take hold and push my anxiety to the side. I was so sick of people treating me like I was a child in need of care, or that my opinion didn’t matter because of my social status.

I’d spent a good portion of my life surviving a hellscape that threatened to break more than my body. The rest of the time, I’d beaten down the parts of me that dared to dream and instead accepted that I would never be good enough to walk side-by-side in the same circles as Mr. Mikhailov.

For the last three years, multiple people, most notably Titus, Steph, Naji, and even Dr. Taylor, had all treated me with love, acceptance, and respect. They saw me as more. I’d denied what they said because the worthlessness had settled in my soul, but for the very first time, I believed them.

Casting off the blanket of doubt, I sat up and laid down the menu.

“Mr. Mikhailov, I agreed to this dinner in good faith. However, I’m getting the distinct impression that you were not as forthcoming with your reasons as you led me to believe.”

He met my stare like a tiger sizing up its prey.

The waiter stepped up to the table, breaking the tense moment, and filled two wine glasses. I was underage, but neither he nor Dimitri commented. Luckily, there were also ice waters on the table.

“Have you chosen an entrée?”

“I’ll have the risotto to start and the Wagyu steak special, rare,” Mr. Mikhailov said.

“Very good, and for yourself, madam?”

“I’ll have the strawberry garden salad and the vegetarian penne.”

“Both excellent choices,” he said before leaving.

The waiter didn’t write anything down, and that was a talent I envied. I would’ve forgotten both orders by the time I took two steps.

“I’ll cut to the chase, Fawn. I do have an ulterior motive for inviting you out to dinner. But before I explain, please call me Dimitri.”

Putting us on a first-name basis was a terrible idea. I knew just enough about psychology to know he was trying to lure me in with a false sense of security. I smiled and nodded.

“In truth, I wanted to get to know you better.” Was that the theme of the week? “My son brought you into our lives three years ago, and I genuinely thought that he would make you part of the family. Instead, he kept you as far away as possible. His mother is very hurt by this, and I’ll admit that I’m curious as to why. Was this your request or something Titus chose?”

Dimitri looked at me expectantly for a response.