by Alone Eagle
“Hi Dahlia.”
“How are you Mrs. Messana?” I asked her politely.
“Call me Natalie. Everyone else does.”
I grinned at her. First name bases, this was good.
I waited for her to speak again, but she continued with her cleaning. She glanced at me again, and a small smile played on her lips. “Do you have a question? You’re hovering.”
I nodded.
“How long have you been working here?”
“About thirty-seven years now.” My eyebrows shot up. That was a long time. “I used to serve Vlad’s father, the senior Vitalli, before he told me to take care of Vlad.”
My eyebrows furrowed now. “Take care?”
She nodded at me. “He was in my care as a boy.”
“Where was his mother?”
She looked at me, suspiciously this time.
“We don’t talk about her here,” she said shortly.
Why not? I wanted to ask, but I held my question in. Instead, I asked a different question, “What’s Vlad like?”
She looked at me with a knowing expression, and I sheepishly shrugged. “Just trying to learn more about him.”
More about my captor.
“Little Sir is a good leader. He treats me and the rest of the staff with respect.”
I smiled at the nickname and waited for her to continue.
“He can be quiet at times, keeps to himself, and is mainly reserved.”
I know that already. Give me something else.
Then, Natalie glanced at me. “He’s never brought a woman into the house before.”
I was baffled. Really? What about women who he slept with?
“You’re the first women in thirty-three years.”
Thirty-three. That’s how old he was?
She met my gaze. “He took online classes and has a degree in business administration.” Oh. I guess that helped him run his network of restaurants. From the news, they had mentioned he was a businessman. Well, that was the legitimate side to him. His public face. I had heard about other shadier ones too.
Brothels, human trafficking, drugs. It was an extensive list.
“Little Sir is like my son,” Natalie finished. “I may not have given birth to him, but I have raised him like he was my own. I was his guardian.” She seemed very fond of him. Then, she glanced at me and tilted her head. “He seems to want to protect you. I hope you won’t let him down.”
I tried not to flinch at her words. They resonated deep inside me. “He kidnapped me,” I said to her, as if it were not obvious enough.
Natalie only shrugged. “Not purposefully, I would say. From what I heard, you witnessed something.”
She was loyal to him.
“Do you think he will ever let me go?” I asked her.
She looked at me then. Her expression turned to pity before it changed again, and she shook her head. I didn’t feel sadness anymore. I knew he wasn’t going to. I thought, maybe acknowledging it to someone other than Vlad would help bring me closure.
“Vlad’s never seriously dated anyone. He hasn’t ever had a relationship, mainly flings and hookups.”
Natalie had my attention. She was telling me this for a reason.
“He doesn’t have any weaknesses. He doesn’t allow himself to get close to anyone.”
She looked at me warily then, and I narrowed my eyes at her in response. I understood what she meant.
“Little Sir is nothing like his father. He seems cold, but even the most cold-hearted men have a heart,” she finished in a whisper, as if she was sharing a secret with me.
It was a message that I could understand too clearly.
If you want to survive, get close to Vlad.
I nodded at her, retaining the information for later, before turning away. My stomach churned somewhat, and my heart raced making me anxious.
I walked away without paying attention to where I was headed and found that my feet had led me in the direction of the mansions’ entrance.
I liked spending my time here. I wore a beige, nude colored coat today. I didn’t wear a hat though. I should have the moment I stepped outside because it was snowing now. It hadn’t been snowing when I had glanced outside the window earlier. The sun had seemed bright and sunny. I guess that was the unpredictable New York weather. The snow that fell had already begun to stick to the ground. At least it wasn’t hail. The slush was the worst.
It was so bright outside that I had to shield my eyes. The snow was light. It was chilly outside but not as cold as I had expected. Although, the icy wind made me shiver. The wind whispered as the whiteness swirled in the air. I fastened my coat tightly. I didn’t have a hood on my coat, so I couldn’t cover my hair. For a moment, I hesitated and wondered if I should return inside. I didn’t want to get sick, but it was so beautiful outside.
Freeing even, and peaceful.
The snow that rested on the rose garden that looked soft and fluffy. It still made me sad that I couldn’t garden, but the snow felt nice. The frost that fell from the sky landed on my lips. I stuck my tongue out, letting the icy flakes land on it and giggled in delight, like a child might while trying to eat it. Then, I wrinkled my nose, feeling silly.
Just then, a voice behind me spoke, “Are you eating snow?”
12
Chapter 12
The voice was deep and masculine.
I turned to look at Vlad standing there in his black coat, his equally black hair was damp with snow. For some reason, I wanted to walk over to him and flick out those little white flakes from his hair. As he moved closer to me, I saw that his tanned skin had a red flush to it due to the cold. Like me, he wore no hat.
Clumps of snow fell on me, heavier than before.
“What are you doing out here without an umbrella?” he asked me once he stopped in front of me, just a couple of feet away. “You’ll get sick.”
I shrugged at him, but a smile broke out on my face.
His eyes dropped to my red, cherry painted lips before averting them back to my face.
“I’m having fun,” I told him, stubbornly.
He looked like he wanted to scoff at me.
I stared at him. He was still a mystery to me. If I was going to live in his house and eat his food, I might as well try to get to know him. Hatred could only take me so far. He didn’t seem like a beast anymore. Less intimidating perhaps? Oh, who was I kidding? He scared the shit out of me sometimes, but he did at times seem less dangerous, more approachable.
I could try. I needed to try.
“What are you thinking?” I asked him after a moment.
He arched an eyebrow at me. “That you need to grow up.”
I pouted at him without thinking. Then, my eyes widened as I realized I’d made an intimate gesture and stopped.
“I didn’t know it was going to snow. I came to walk,” I ended up saying lamely.
Vlad looked at me. His hands were shoved in his fancy, black coat. Underneath the coat, he wore a cashmere black sweater. My gaze traveled to his jeans. He wasn’t wearing pants today. Again, they were black. It was a dark color, easier to blend in. Maybe he didn’t want to stand out. It suited him though. He was like a brooding, moody man who rarely smiled.
“You’re staring,” he decided to call me out.
“I am observing,” I corrected him with a tight-lipped smile.
“It’s kinda creepy,” he countered, amused.
My breaths came out in little huffs in the cold air. I looked at him astonished. My kidnapper was calling me creepy?
“You’re always watching me,” I said, rolling my eyes.
He tilted his head at me. “Obviously. You might stab me again.”
I was about to snap back at him some witty retort, until I saw that small, teasing smile peeking out from his lips. Was he joking? Maybe he was trying to be funny. I didn’t laugh though. Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest, flushing at the way he was looking at me. His wolf-like eyes were softer and glassier.
“Where’s your umbrella?” I asked him, trying to distract myself from how I was feeling, that warmth spreading low in my belly at having his attention focused only on me.
He only blinked at me. Then, he looked up at the sky.
“The snow is getting heavier. We need to go inside now.”
I noticed it wasn’t a request but a command.
I nodded at him, and we slowly headed toward the entrance, back inside the mansion. From the corner of my eye, I saw him glance at me. I wasn’t going to talk to him unless he began first.
“What was it like growing up in the system?” he asked me after a pause.
I looked at him. Oh. That was his question? Then, I exhaled slowly wondering how much of the truth I should reveal.
Once we were inside the doorway, Vlad reached up with his large hand and shook the snow from his hair, and it ended up landing on my face, catching me off guard.
The little snowflakes melted against my skin.
A few seconds later, one of the female servants came and took our wet coats. I wanted to protest but either way, Vlad would have ordered me to remove the coat. We took off our wet shoes and the servant brought us new footwear.
The servant, who’s name I didn’t know, bent down to place the footwear in front of Vlad, but surprisingly, Vlad shook his head and took the footwear from her. Then, he handed me mine. I looked at him cautiously.
Was that humility I just saw?
I shook off my frantic thoughts. Spending time with Vlad made me confused. Sometimes, he did things that I didn’t know what to make off. He had once kneeled in front of me to hand me my shirt, now he stopped his servant from kneeling before him. It was something… normal. A considerate thing to do. It wasn’t something a sociopathic killer would do.
I touched the top of my head, trying to wipe off the snow before I wrapped my arms around myself, still feeling cold.
Vlad nodded his head to the large fireplace, and I obediently followed behind him.
The fire was already burning as we entered. My eyes fell on the orange and red flames swaying as they danced before me, burning through the wood. It cast long shadows over the sheepskin rug and wooden floor. The place was warm and cozy. Growing up, I didn’t have a fireplace in the any of the foster homes I’d lived in. This seemed like a luxury, something I wasn’t used to. I stared enchanted and hypnotized at the fire, as the flames leapt like an untamed tiger in an endless dance.
Must be nice to be a flame.
Free.
It burned while giving others warmth, the smoke gravitating toward the chimney. I held out my hands before the fire, smiling as the warmth brought relief to my cold bones. A moment later, I froze, feeling an intense gaze upon me. My smile faded, and I turned away from the fire, dropping my hands into my lap.
My eyes fell on Vlad who stared right back at me.
He sat on a single chair near the fireplace, I assumed that was because he didn’t want to share the two-seater couch with me. The fire cast shadows upon him, illuminating his skin and making it glow. I grew a little uncomfortable under his fiery gaze especially at the way he was staring at me like I was some fascinating delicacy he wanted to devour.
I was in a den of a wolf, and I was his prey.
Natalie came a few moments later bringing two glasses and a bottle of Scotch. I didn’t drink, but I politely accepted it. I needed something warm because my insides had shriveled up. It was hard to tell if it was because of the freezing weather or because I was becoming just like Vlad.
Alone and dead.
Or maybe, the truth was just too scary, that he unsettled me like no man had ever affected me before.
He took a drink of his scotch and arched an eyebrow at me. I realized, I’d never answered his earlier question, what he had asked me in the hallway.
I took a sip of my own drink, trying not to cringe at the strong taste.
I’d never had scotch before.
His eyes twinkled at me, amused at my not-so-subtle reaction. Clearly, he could tell, I wasn’t a drinker. He just kept sipping occasionally, not saying anything. Maybe he was waiting for me to speak. I didn’t have to answer him. He couldn’t possibly force the truth out of me, right? I took another sip to calm my nerves.
“The system was… tough,” I admitted eventually.
He continued to wait, leaning forward in his chair slightly.
I exhaled slowly. I needed him to trust me, to think that I was safe.
If you want to survive, get close to Vlad.
The words echoed in my mind. It stood against everything I believed in. But I needed to survive this. I’d known this before Natalie had told me. The instinct to survive wasn’t new to me, it was the reason why I had offered myself to Vlad in the first place. In the end, he hadn’t taken up my offer.
He rejected me.
His posture looked more relaxed and comfortable now, must be the drinking he’s been doing for the past ten minutes or so. In that time, we had barely spoken, and mainly stared at each other.
I continued, “I was told by the religious preacher who had found me that a woman gave me to him when she came to the mosque. She said, she couldn’t raise me. I was a few days old, and then she left before he could stop her. He called child services then, and I ended up in a foster home.”
His eyes didn’t widen like I had expected. His face merely showed mild interest. Maybe he was hiding his true reactions?
“You had a mother?” he asked me, tilting his head.
I nodded. “I don’t remember her.”
Then I looked up at him.
You don’t remember yours either.
I wanted him to admit that, or add something, but then I remembered Mrs. Messana’s words, we don’t talk about her here.
“Apparently she didn’t want me.” I tried to keep my voice monotone and hoped it wouldn’t crack.
I wanted him to share something with me in return, but I didn’t know if he would, so I refrained.
After a moment, he asked me, “How did you feel being taken care of by people who weren’t your parents?”
My eyes narrowed in on his words, and I leaned back into the couch.
He was raised by Natalie. His parents didn’t raise him either. It was weird, we were two strangers who were worlds apart, yet we had something in common.
I pressed my lips together before I answered, “I never met my parents so I couldn’t compare.”
Vlad only briefly nodded before he looked at the fireplace.
I was losing him. I had to share something to get his attention again. I licked my lips nervously before admitting, “It was lonely.”
His eyes instantly jerked up at me, surprised that I had spoken.
“My biological parents were out there, maybe still are, but they didn’t want to raise me. They placed me in the hands of someone else to get rid of their responsibilities.”
His jaw tensed, and I had his full attention now. His father, Enzo had done the same to him. For a moment, I wanted to know if he had ever been held as a kid. Was he ever hugged by his father?
“You know,” I said to him. “Conversations work both ways.”
A secret for a secret.
Vlad’s gaze smoldered me. Then, his features softened, and his tensed jaw relaxed. A smile played at his lips now, and he rested a hand under his chin while his elbow rested on the arm set. He had already finished two glasses of scotch. I watched him, wanting to savor the moments when he smiled at me. I could take that. Then, his smile turned into a grin.
I blinked at him, baffled. I wasn’t ready for that full-on smile.
My back sank further into the couch dramatically as I stared at him. “Has anyone seen you smile like that?” I asked him.
Then, his grin turned into a deep chuckle.
He laughed.
It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. The sound was deep, and it rumbled. It completely changed his face. He looked less tense, funnier, more approachable. He looked like a man
you would approach outside. Easy-going. That was the word for it. A laugh was something different in this massive mansion. It was something humane. Normal.
My eyes slowly blinked, maybe I was hallucinating because I was drinking, but I’d only had a few sips, I wasn’t even tipsy yet.
“That’s something unheard of here,” I muttered under my breath, sipping my drink. The taste wasn’t so bad anymore. It was smokey and fruity, and I was beginning to like it now.
I knew Vlad heard my comment because he raised his eyebrows at me.
“So Dahlia,” he drawled out. My breath raced at the way he said my name. “What do you want to know about me?”
A smile broke out on my face.
“What’s your favorite color?” I asked him.
He looked amused. “Black.”
Of course. “I like gold.”
Now, I was stumped.
I didn’t know what other basic questions to ask him.
“You’re out of questions already?” he teased me, playful now, pouring a third glass for himself.
Then, I met his gaze head on. I crossed one leg over the other as I began to feel more comfortable, warmer and a bit light-headed after drinking more of the scotch.
“I know most basic things about you already,” I admitted.
Vlad arched an eyebrow at me, still smiling. “Like?”
I observed him coolly. Then I spoke, “I know where you live. I’ve met your father.” But not your mother. “I know you like scotch,” I continued, nodding at the bottle. “You don’t seem to have anyone close to you, except Natalie and maybe Gabriele.”
He lost his smile then, but I continued speaking. A voice in my head told me to shut up. Maybe it was the scotch coming out of my mouth now. Why couldn’t I just stop talking?
“I know Natalie raised you… I know that you’re well educated. You took online classes. And I can tell that you don’t like your father that much.”
Then, I held my breath, anticipating his reaction. Maybe I’d taken the conversation too far.
His eyes turned fiery, and the grip on his glass tightened, and he stayed still for a second. Then, he placed his still full glass of scotch on the table next to him. That didn’t look good. I should have kept my mouth shut. He was willing to have a nice, basic conversation, but I had spoken too frankly and too soon.