Page 58 of Dark Seduction
"Welcome!" Claude says from the back of the store. "You must be my private customers. Can I get you anything to drink?"
We turn around to see Claude approaching, all smiles and hospitality. But the moment his eyes land on me, his smile falters and he gasps. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting to see me again, especially not like this.
Claude Pascal stands there, a picture of fashionable distress. He’s trim, his hair perfectly styled, and his clothes scream designer chic—a look you might see on a celebrity at a New York fashion show. His mannerisms and sharp attire give him an air of theatrical flair, reminiscent of those charismatic characters who own every room they enter.
His shock at seeing me is quite something.
"Dalia! What the hell are you doing here?" he sputters, his voice rising in panic. He takes his phone from his pocket as if to call security, but before his hand can even lift it, the front door swings open again.
Vanya enters confidently, swinging his cane, followed by three of Lev’s men. They're calm and collected, an intimidating presence.
Vanya addresses the store staff with authority. "You’re in no danger, but we will need you to stay in the breakroom for the duration of this showing."
The staff, picking up on the seriousness of his tone, quickly scurry to the back of the shop, Lev’s men trailing behind them.
Vanya then turns to Claude, his voice firm but kind. "As long as you don’t do anything stupid, you’ll make it out of this no worse for wear."
Lev watches the scene unfold with a satisfied grin. Once the area is cleared, he turns to Claude, still smiling.
"I’m ready for my showing now," he announces.
Claude regards us with a wary eye. "Wait a minute, you’re Lev Ivanov." There’s a quiver of anxiety in his voice.
Lev gives him a smile, both charming and chilling. "The one and only.”
A visible wave of relief washes over Claude, and he manages a smile of his own, albeit a shaky one. "I've heard of your reputation. I’m told you’re a gentleman."
From somewhere in the store, Vanya, who had been casually examining the jewelry, lets out a bark of a laugh at this description.
Lev doesn't miss a beat. “Perhaps you’ve been told correctly. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my fair share of blood on my hands."
His tone is casual but the underlying warning is clear.
The color drains from Claude’s face as the implications sink in. He swallows hard before asking, "What do you want?"
Lev’s expression turns stony. "I ought to smash every case in here considering the way you robbed Dalia of her hard work and talent."
Claude tries to defend himself, his words coming out in a hurried rush. "Her pieces were left behind in the divorce. I was simply...ah, giving them a good home."
His feeble attempt at justification does nothing and Lev is not amused.
"A good home," Lev echoes, his tone dripping with incredulity. "Bullshit—you’re selling them and claiming that the designs are yours."
I jump in, unable to hold back my frustration. "Exactly, you’ve been making money offmyhard work!"
Claude scoffs, waving a dismissive hand as if to brush away a pesky fly. "Nonsense. I taught you everything you know about making jewelry. If anything,youoweme."
From across the room, Vanya can't contain himself as he lets out another laugh. "You can’t possibly think that line is going to work.”
Lev doesn’t miss a beat, pressing Claude further. "Tell me, Claude, how well have Dalia’s pieces been selling?"
Claude hesitates, but then, with a resigned sigh, admits, "Quite well, actually. Nearly half of them are sold, and I get constant requests for more."
Despite the tension and the less-than-ideal circumstances, I can't help but feel a surge of pride at his words. My work, my art, is desired and cherished by others.
Lev gives me a nod, all business. "Ready to start the private showing, Dalia?"
"Oh yeah, I'm ready.”