A Beauty So Cruel Manuscript (2)

by Alone Eagle

  Natalie watched, learning the steps as I cooked.

  “Do you speak Arabic?” she asked me.

  I nodded at her. “I’m not completely fluent, but I took four years of Arabic in college so I’m at an advanced level.”

  “You don’t have parents?” Natalie asked me.

  Maybe Vlad had told her.

  I didn’t face her as I replied, “They gave me up when I was born.” She sucked in a breath, but I continued, “I don’t know who they are.”

  “Have you tried looking for them?” she asked me.

  I’ve tried. I gazed at her then. “It’s hard to track someone who’s names I don’t know.”

  The beef was on the gas grill on high, letting it rest for more than seven minutes so it was more well-done. Occasionally, I alternated the sides of the beef.

  “Do you miss your parents?” Natalie asked me.

  I paused and turned to look at her. “How do you miss someone you don’t know?”

  Natalie nodded at me as if she understood.

  Without turning to look at Natalie, I said quietly, “Vlad talked to me about his mother.”

  Natalie’s eyes widened at me. “Little Sir has never talked to me about her. He’s always forbidden everyone to talk about Madam.”

  My cheeks turned slightly pink, trying to hide my face with hair. “We’ve gotten a little close,” I said. I guess, sharing the same bed —or wall —made us more than just acquaintances now, even if I didn’t know exactly what we were to each other.

  Natalie gave me a knowing smile, her lips forming a grin now.

  “I heard noises the other day from the living room.” Then, she closed her mouth as if she’d said too much. Her cheeks became slightly pinker and they now matched mine. Then she turned to look at me, “Of course I didn’t peek, but I figured that’s what was going on.”

  Oh God. My skin flushed red and I wished the ground would swallow me up. Well, this was unexpected and embarrassing now.

  I felt her staring at me, so I glanced at her.

  “Little Sir looks at you differently,” Natalie began.

  I arched an eyebrow at her.

  “I’ve never seen him look at women that way.”

  I hid a smile. My cheeks turning red all over again.

  “But then again, I’ve never seen him bring anyone home,” she said, smiling at me.

  I grinned at her. “I think the shawarma is ready now.”

  “I’ll finish the rest,” Natalie said kindly, stepping toward me.

  I began to protest but then she shooed me away.

  I gave her a sheepish smile before turning to leave.

  ❖

  I eyed Vlad as we sat at the dinner table.

  He wore a satin, grey colored shirt with black formal clothes. I kind of liked his dresswear. Professional yet lazy at the same time. As soon as he returned home, one shirt was tucked half in and half out and his sleeves were always rolled up. It made me wonder, why does he put on such an act when he goes out?

  This was the real Vlad in front of me.

  If he was so careful at guarding his physical appearance outside and let himself loose and get comfortable at home only, I wondered what else he pretended he liked?

  I remember he had mentioned he didn’t like staring at broken women. That meant he didn’t support forced prostitution and human trafficking. Why didn’t he just stop it then?

  I wanted to ask him, but I knew it wasn’t my place to. It was his business.

  Vlad caught me staring before raising his eyebrows at me, as if to ask, what’s up?

  I shook my head at him and gave him a small smile.

  Natalie had already prepped everything and placed it in front of us.

  He looked at the shawarma curiously. “I’ve never seen that cooked here before.”

  I shrugged. “I was your master chef today.”

  Vlad looked amused. “You like to cook?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him, resting my hand against my jawline. “More of a habit than like. Maybe you’ll enjoy it. It’s shawarma.”

  His teasing eyes zeroed in on me. “Is it poisoned?”

  My mouth almost dropped to the floor. Then, I relaxed when I realized it was a joke. I wrinkled my nose at him, “Yes.”

  He began filling his plate up and I glanced up at him curiously, eager to ask him more questions and continue an earlier conversation

  “Why do you have a Russian name and how come you’re an only child?” I asked him, shooting out the first questions that came into my mind. Then, I filled my own plate.

  His cool eyes rested on mine. I paused momentarily. Then, his face brightened when he gave me one of his teasing smiles, the brooding man in him that I once knew seemed long gone. It was a shock, really.

  “Are we back to your questioning game?” he asked me.

  Then, he took a bite out of the shawarma.

  His eyes widened at the taste. He swallowed but some of the juices from the beef slipped out of his mouth, dropping onto the plate. My mouth watered at the sight. When did he become so hot? His tongue darted out to lick his lips slowly, savoring the taste before he reached for the napkin to wipe his mouth. Never had I been so mesmerized by him, until now, watching him eat. Was it possible to be jealous of a napkin?

  I was like a dog salivating as I watched him eat.

  I pushed my dirty thoughts away.

  Then he said, “This is really good. You should cook for me more often.”

  I knew he meant it as a joke, but then I replied, “I’m not your wife.”

  He paused in his chewing now, and stared at me, before swallowing, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did.

  “Yes, you’re right, you’re not,” he added, staring at me intently.

  I looked away from his intense gaze. “How come you aren’t married anyway?”

  He laughed softly at me. “Full of questions tonight, aren’t we?” Then he replied, “My father never re-married after my mother. And I didn’t marry because…” His jaw ticked before he admitted, “Because of my mother’s betrayal. It tore not only their marriage apart but also my father. He doesn’t get attached to women anymore. I guess I’m similar.”

  I remembered when Enzo had touched me, I hadn’t caught any lust in his eyes.

  “She had an affair with someone else.” Vlad offered conversationally.

  I was stunned at this new information.

  “I’m not sure if my father has always been wicked, or if it was only after my mother’s betrayal.” Vlad grimaced before he spoke again, “Sure, he’s always been practical and emotionless, but it’s like sometimes he deliberately distances himself, so he doesn’t feel the pain of others…. He’s been like that for as long as I can remember. I like to think maybe he was different once, but after he’d gotten hurt, all his empathy died along with my mother.”

  The more Vlad shared with me, the more I realized, I didn’t know much about him.

  “The one thing I can’t stand in the world is betrayal… I never allow anyone to get close enough to hurt me,” he finished saying, taking a sip of his scotch, then staring at me with a telling look.

  I understood the message all too well.

  We might have screwed each other, but that’s all we were to each other.

  Fuck buddies.

  Still deep down, I was hoping we were more than that now…

  Remembering my other question, I changed the topic and asked, “How come your name is Vlad? That’s not Italian.”

  Then, I studied his features curiously. He had Italian features except for his nose. He had no hook, and his nose was thinner and straighter. It looked distinct and different.

  Vlad only smiled at me. “It’s my turn to ask a question.”

  I pouted at him, sulkily, and then nodded.

  “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”

  I was taken aback by his question, not expecting that at all.

  I looked him in the eye, not knowing how to share but I tried,
“My last foster guardian,” I began, then I gulped deeply, staring at my plate. I had lost my appetite now, particularly knowing that I would probably regret telling him this, but I was going to anyway. He’d shared so much with me, I could let him in a little, couldn’t I? “I stabbed him with a knife, he bled out…”

  The room felt so quite now. The quietness felt unnatural between us. Vlad paused eating his dinner at that revelation.

  I remembered that night clearly. I was only seventeen years old, and I was turning eighteen in two days. I was going to be able to move out, free myself from my foster father’s cage of cruelty he called a home. But he just had to try something that night too…I had defended myself. I’d pulled out a knife and we’d wrestled, and I ended up stabbing him. Perhaps, that’s why I didn’t regret Leo’s death. I wasn’t afraid of blood and death. I’d seen death before up close at a young age.

  Vlad cleared his throat, making me jump.

  “That didn’t come up on your background check. Your record is clean.” Then, he stared at me, waiting for more information. I was surprised he hadn’t dug deeper and found out whether my foster parents were still alive or not.

  I only nodded at him, poking at my food now. “There were no charges against me. It was self-defense. It didn’t go on my record… I got rid of the body. People think he’s missing till this day.”

  Someone else helped me.

  I turned to look at Vlad who looked astonished. “You got rid of a body?”

  Then he blinked before taking a slow deep drink of his scotch. I almost smiled at him at his lack of composure. I didn’t have clean hands either. My hands were soaked in blood too. I think the difference between Vlad, and I was I hadn’t shed innocent blood.

  “Self-defense?” Vlad repeated. Then, he gripped his glass tighter. His skin was flushing red with anger now. “Was he attacking you?”

  “I don’t like to talk about it,” I replied and forced myself to take a bite of the food that I had cooked.

  Vlad was silent before he spoke, “What happened to, what you keep in your heart eats you alive?”

  My surprised gaze met his now and I smiled briefly. He had used my own words against me. I exhaled slowly before taking a sip of my water. With my heavy heart, and holding eye contact I said, “Did you ever consider whether my heart is already dead?”

  His eyebrows shot up then. He opened his mouth to speak again but I casually changed the subject, “How old were you when you made your first kill? I was seventeen.”

  I wanted to change the topic. I wanted to know how young he was, to find out how he became the way he is.

  Vlad looked at me briefly before hesitating. He calmly took another bite of his food before he answered, “I was three years younger than you. Fourteen.”

  It was my turn for my eyebrows to shoot up at him.

  So young and innocent.

  “I didn’t have a choice. It was my mark into this world. It was kill or be killed,” he added in a hoarse low voice.

  I nodded, understanding too well. I had done the same thing. I’d picked me. I had saved myself. I stared at Vlad dumbfounded.

  “We’re not so different from one another, Doll,” he said.

  His voice lacked his usual teasing tone. He wasn’t taunting me either, just making a connection between us. My heartrate jumped at the thought, before settling back into a steady rhythm. I didn’t want to be too hopeful again even though he’d crushed my hopes just moments ago.

  Vlad was silent now and began eating again. I followed suite, even though my mind kept wandering back to his words.

  We never met our mothers.

  We were raised by guardians.

  We each took a life when we were just kids.

  There was nothing innocent by us.

  Something bounded me to him, to his sense of loss and pain. He had mentioned to me once, that people thought he was boring, maybe because he spoke very little. But they didn’t know him well, he was charming, funny, and could even be called sweet when he wanted to be. He was so much more than what he had always shown others.

  I was lost in my thoughts until he spoke again, “My mother was Russian.”

  My eyes jerked up to his. I realized he was answering my original question, the one I had begun the conversation with. I wasn’t surprised at his reply. His name and his nose might as well have screamed, Russian.

  Then, he cleared his throat before saying, “She named me.”

  I was curious about his mother. “Don’t Italians and Russian hate each other?”

  Vlad looked at me, smiling down at me like I was a child. “I can’t tell if you read too many mafia romances or if you watch too much news.”

  I sucked my teeth at him, crossing my arms over his chest.

  His eyes sparkled at me. “That is true. Ask me a different question.”

  I scratched my head, thinking now, but I came up blank.

  “You’re done with the game already?” he teased me.

  I groaned out loud in frustration at his words. Clearly, he liked making me uncomfortable. I stared at him warily now.

  “You’re getting too comfy, Don. You were better when you were brooding.”

  “You like that mysterious and cold Don?” he asked me, amused now.

  I stuck my tongue out at him like a child.

  His eyes narrowed at me, and his hand shot out to pull my arm closer to him.

  “Stick that tongue at me again, and I’ll bite it,” he murmured.

  My heartbeat was racing now, it was so loud I was afraid he could hear it. I didn’t know how his words could make me feel so weak and powerless. Dirty talk. It was all dirty talk. I had never done it before, so it really affected me. That was sure to be the explanation, wasn’t it?

  Just then, Vlad let go of my arm, and he settled back into his seat like nothing happened. I shook my head at him and reached for my glass of water.

  “You ask me a question now,” I said smiling, changing the topic now.

  “Are you still sore?” he asked me after a moment, biting into his food again.

  I ended up spluttering my drink, looking at him.

  Must he be so crass over dinner?

  But then again, we were just talking about murders moments earlier.

  He noticed my expression and shrugged at me boyishly. A curved smile played on his handsome face. Jerk. That little shrug tugged at my heart though. A foreign feeling, I couldn’t place. He almost resembled a teenage boy instead of the man I knew.

  I decided to be defiant. “I’m not telling you.”

  He arched an eyebrow at me. “Why not?”

  “Are you taking me out?” I asked him with wide eyes.

  He narrowed his eyes at me, turning suspicious now. “You think I don’t know that once I take you outside, you’re going to do something to try and escape?”

  I furrowed my eyebrows at him and frowned.

  “You gave me your word…” I protested.

  He looked at me amused. “And you believed it?”

  Was he lying then or toying with me now?

  “You said you hate betrayal. I hate fake promises,” I said, stubbornly in response, rising from my seat and turning to leave the table. I was done eating now, and I wanted to get away from him. Disappointment was crushing me from within and I didn’t want him to see.

  I passed Vlad, but then he clutched my hand, making me stop.

  He still sat in his chair as he looked at me.

  “Are you upset, Doll?” he asked me.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not your doll. You’re just a liar,” I shot at him.

  Vlad’s eyes narrowed at me, and his jaw clenched.

  Shit, he looked angry now.

  Noooooo.

  I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have accused him. I called him a liar. This time, I feared I really had overstepped the mark. I kept my eyes on him even though I feared his reaction.

  His men weren’t around. No one was.

  Jus
t then, Vlad stood up from his chair, and I held my breath.

  “What did you just call me?” he asked in a dangerously, low voice.

  It sounded edgy now, like the cold Vlad. I regretted the fact that I ever missed him. Maybe, I pushed him too hard. He didn’t let go of my hand and only gripped it tighter in his hold. It was tight enough to make a point but not enough to be painful. It dawned to me that I was at his mercy. He was the one who ultimately decided when he wanted to show it or not. I didn’t speak now and stayed silent.

  “You think just because we fucked a few times, you can talk to me like that?”

  His cold words stung me, more than they should have.

  They hurt me.

  We weren’t a normal couple. We weren’t exclusive.

  I didn’t know what we were.

  I peered up at him with hurt-filled eyes, not lowering my gaze. I shouldn’t feel hurt. I shouldn’t allow him to hurt me.

  I hadn’t intended to hurt him, and I really didn’t like seeing this side of him come back. I wanted him to be nice and kind to me again. I was realizing, I was losing him all over again.

  I snatched my hand away from his grip.

  He moved toward me, but I held out a hand to stop him.

  Vlad’s eyes narrowed but he did stop.

  “You’re not welcome in my bedroom tonight,” I huffed at him.

  Then I left him standing there alone.

  I thought we were getting closer. He was starting to open up to me, but then he dismissed me like I was nothing to him. It was true though. I didn’t have a status here.

  Did he think of me like a whore he could use?

  I didn’t feel like one.

  You didn’t have deep conversations with whores.

  You didn’t kiss whores.

  He had done those things with me.

  I sure wasn’t getting paid either.

  But I was still a captive during the day and a mistress during the night.

  He didn’t come after me.

  A pathetic part of me wished he would have.

  ❖

  After our argument, Vlad didn’t come to my bedroom last night.