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The Russian Billionaire Shamed the Waitress in Russian — Then She Used the Name Only His Father Was Allowed to Call Him

Chapter 2

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What came next did.The man beside Viktor said, “Perhaps she does.”Viktor glanced at Nia and laughed.“Her? If she understood Russian, she would know enough to be embarrassed.”Nia looked at him.For the first time that evening, she answered in Russian.Perfectly.Calmly.“Your father would have hated hearing you speak to people that way.”The laughter died.Viktor’s face became still.Nia leaned slightly closer.Then she said one word.“Vitya.”The spoon slipped from Viktor Morozov’s hand and struck the porcelain bowl.No one at the table moved.Nia straightened.“Enjoy your soup,” she said in English.And walked away.Viktor did not touch another bite.He watched her cross the dining room, disappear through the service doors, and return carrying a tray for another table.“Who is she?” he asked.The maître d’ blinked. “Nia Carter. She’s been with us about fourteen months.”“Carter?”“Yes.”Viktor’s jaw tightened.The silver-haired man, Leonid Baranov, leaned toward him.“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”Viktor ignored him.“Where did she learn Russian?”“I wouldn’t know.”“Find out.”The maître d’ hesitated. “Mr. Morozov, our employees’ personal information—”Viktor’s eyes hardened.“I did not ask for her bank records. Ask her.”But Nia had already decided she would not answer questions in the dining room.When Viktor requested her again, she sent another server.When he asked for the manager, she continued serving table twelve.When he stood and waited near the service corridor, two members of his security detail remained several steps behind him.Nia came through the doors carrying empty glasses.“You shouldn’t be back here,” she said.“Why did you call me that?”She stopped.“Call you what?”His voice dropped.“Vitya.”For the first time, the arrogance was gone.There was something else underneath it.Fear.“My father was the only person who called me that after I was twelve.”Nia studied him.“That isn’t true.”Viktor’s face changed.“Who are you?”“Nia Carter.”“Who taught you that name?”“My mother.”“Her name.”Nia’s expression cooled.“You’ve spent two hours ordering people around. You can survive asking politely once.”Viktor stared at her.Then, with visible effort, he said, “What was your mother’s name?”“Elena.”His breathing stopped for a beat.“Elena what?”“Elena Sokolova.”A glass shattered somewhere inside the kitchen.Neither of them looked toward the sound.Viktor stepped back as though Nia had pushed him.“That’s impossible.”“She died eleven months ago.”
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The Russian Billionaire Shamed the Waitress in Russian — Then She Used the Name Only His Father Was Allowed to Call Him

7 Part