by Bella King
I laugh, leaning across the table and looking him deep in his eyes. “I would literally pop,” I say, matching his grin.
“I might go for some cheesecake,” Viktor says, lifting up the menu.
“Seriously?” I ask, amazed that he could possibly want to eat anything about the gigantic meal we shared.
“For sure,” he says, lowering the menu back down and looking me over. “Unless you want to get out of here and take a little walk with me.”
“A walk?”
“Yes, it’s always nice to take a walk after dinner. The weather is lovely,” he replies.
I feel way too good to say no. I’m up for just about anything after such a wonderful dinner with him. With both us so relaxed and deeply buzzed, we could really connect over a private walk together.
I pout my lips. “No bodyguards, though?”
Viktor shrugs. “We don’t need them.”
“We probably do, though,” I say, growing more serious.
“They’re everywhere, Cora. You just don’t see them. Don’t worry about anything. I’m going to take very good care of you.”
The way he says those last words makes the butterflies in my stomach go wild. I’m still not completely comfortable around him, but with the liquor in me, I’m tempted to trust him for a nice walk. It’ll be refreshing if nothing else.
“Let’s go for a walk then, but I don’t want to be out too late,” I say, giving myself a way out if I need one.
Viktor nods. “As you wish, darling.”
Darling? That’s a new one. I’m not expecting it, and it makes the butterflies about ten times worse. I’m unsure if it’s the alcohol exacerbating everything, or I just naturally react so strongly to Viktor. I presume it’s a bit of both.
“I paid for the meal before we arrived, so we don’t need to wait. Let’s go down this street to the park, shall we?” Viktor suggests, standing up from his seat.
I rise with him, feeling the effects of the whiskey fully now. My legs feel like noodles. Three drinks aren’t a lot for a man his size, but it is for a woman like me. I don’t take much to get drunk. Not that I am, however. I’m just very tipsy.
I follow Viktor as he starts to walk away from the table. My belly is so full that I’m afraid he might see it bulging out from my dress. I guess if he’s going to marry me, he should see all sides of me first, before tying the knot.
Viktor, although having eaten and drank plenty, walks with the stride of a man on a mission. He doesn’t slow his pace as I struggle to keep up with him. I have to take his hand and yank it back to get him to slow down so that I’m not jogging to keep up with him as we leave the restaurant.
“I’m I too fast for you?” he asks, looking down on me with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
I frown, putting my lips out as I clasp his large hand in mine. “Yes.”
He chuckles. “I can slow down, but you said you had to be home before it got too late.”
I scoff playfully. “I can be out as long as I want. I’m the boss of myself.”
“Sure you are,” he replies, looking ahead again as we make our way down the sidewalk and away from the building.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, challenging his words.
“Nothing. I was agreeing with you,” he replies calmly.
That’s doubtful, but I don’t press him any further. I’ll let him get away with it this time.
Chapter Eleven
Cora
A breeze slithers up my dress and wraps itself around my warm thighs. I feel as though Viktor and I are gliding through the park and that nobody else is there. Of course, there are other people, but I don’t notice them. I can only see Viktor, like there’s a halo around his body, gifted to him by the spirit world.
It does feel unearthly out here this evening. I never go out in public, so the experience is dreamlike. Pair that with a woozy perception of my surroundings, and someone might just be able to convince me that I am in a dream. Reality is flexible.
“Have you ever been in love?” I ask Viktor as we walk toward a fountain in the center of the park.
His eyes open wide for a moment before his face returns to its regular calmness. He’s surprised by my question. Maybe he hadn’t expected me to ask him deep questions on our first date.
“Are you suggesting that I am in love with you?” he asks.
I laugh. “No way. I don’t believe that people can fall in love so quickly.”
“But you would like to fall in love,” he says.
“I imagine it would be nice,” I reply, choosing my words carefully. I don’t know whether love will ever be present in our marriage, but I would like to think that he will make an effort. Politics aside, we’d probably make a good couple.
Viktor looks ahead, his eyes unfocused as his mind travels back in time to a distant memory. Yes, he has been in love. I can tell by the look in his eyes. Men who have loved look a certain way.
“You have been in love,” I state.
Viktor smiles, but only with his mouth. His eyes continue to stare into the distance as he explores a memory. “Yes, but that was when I was much younger.”
“Do you still love her?” I ask.
“No,” he answers sharply, a frown tarnishing his handsome face. “I don’t love anyone.”
“Not even your parents?” I ask.
“I never knew them,” he replies.
This is new. Born in the US, raised in Russia, and he never knew his parents? I believe I’ve found the first hole in his story. I wonder whether to dig in or to back off now that I’ve gained information. I don’t want him to explain it away. Maybe he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole.
“I, uh, had a tough childhood, which is why I went to Russia where my grandparents lived,” Viktor quickly says, patching up the hole in his story. “It’s tough in the US when you have no parents.”
“I can imagine,” I reply, lying through my teeth. I can tell he’s not telling me the truth now. I could let the other stuff slide, but this is too obvious. I’m going to get to the truth before I agree to marry him. I must know exactly what I’m getting myself into.
“Let’s talk about you,” Viktor says as we reach the fountain.
“Me?” I ask. “There isn’t much to say. I feel like you know everything already.”
“I doubt that very much.”
“I’m only twenty-two, and I’ve lived at home my entire life. There really isn’t much to say,” I explain.
“A blank slate,” he says, a smirk entering his face.
I nod. “You can teach me about the world.”
“Oh yes, I will teach you many things,” he replies, his eyes dancing over me again.
I can see the sexual intent in his eyes this time. I know that he desires to have sex with me, possibly even before we’re married. It might not be love, but it’s better than nothing. I’m excited about what he can show me in the bedroom, but I hope he’ll be gentle with me.
“What will you teach me?” I ask flirtatiously, unable to help myself.
“Adult things,” Viktor grumbles.
I raise an eyebrow. That’s awfully direct. “Adult things?”
“Things that adults do,” he says, clarifying nothing.
“And what do adults do?” I ask.
“Adult things,” he says, coming back to square one.
I laugh. “Okay, Viktor. Keep your secrets then. I’m just a curious girl.”
“You’ll know everything once you agree to marry me,” Viktor says, holding the deal over my head like bait once again. He really seems to want to go through with it. But I want to know why.
We stop in front of the fountain, and I place my hands on the rough concrete edge, feeling the mossy texture beneath my palms. I’ve felt many fountains since the estate is filled with them, but this one is different. It’s not so well-maintained as the ones on the estate, with moss and dirt covering it. I bet many people have laid their hands on it, just like I’m doing now. It’s like I’m touching e
very one of them and listening to the stories they have to tell.
“I’ll give you my decision tomorrow,” I say. That will give me enough time to check with Mrs. Johnson.
Viktor remains silent. He was probably hoping that I would agree to it tonight, but I’m not that certain of him yet. I need to make sure that no harm will come to me once I’m fully accepted into his care. As unlikely as it is, this could be a big ploy to kidnap me and cart me off to Russia or something. I just don’t know.
I turn around to face Viktor, jumping in surprise when I see that he’s nearly touching me with how close he’s standing. I can feel his hot breath against my forehead as he looms over me like a willow tree in the sticky summer heat.
“Tomorrow, we will go to my house,” he says, his voice nothing more than a rumble in his throat.
“If I agree to marry you, then yes,” I say, sidestepping him to regain room to breathe.
Viktor stands straight and turns to face me again. “Do you have doubts about me?”
I shrug. “Probably not.”
“Probably?”
“Yes,” I say, frowning. “Probably. And you should probably not bug me about it, or my answer will be no.”
Viktor stares at me, his face blank for a moment before breaking into a smile. “Sounds promising.”
“Let’s keep walking,” I say, taking a step away from the fountain.
Viktor follows my lead, offering me his hand once he catches up. I take it, accepting his gesture. For everything wrong about him, there are twice as many things right. His hand feels like home in mine, and I like the way his cologne smells, like juniper and spices with a hint of something sweet. I could live with that.
Chapter Twelve
Viktor
My evening with Cora was enjoyable, but she sure knows how to push my buttons. One minute it’s a flirtatious smile, and the next she’s telling me that she might not agree to the marriage after all. Women like her drive me insane, but they also make me inexplicably horny.
I tried to suppress my urges to kiss her during our walk in the park. She almost seems too innocent to touch. I feel as though I’m corrupting her just by looking over her lovely sun-tanned body.
There’s something special about the tan-lines on her cleavage, and the highlights in her hair. It’s a reminder of a life that I never got to live, but one that I would choose in another reality. It’s carefree, something that I never got to experience.
Truthfully, the urges I’ve gotten around her may be centered around jealousy. She’s good, maybe too good, and I never got to be that way. I was stuck with the life I’m living now, forced into crime, and kept by an insatiable lust for power. I want to take Cora into the dark with me.
I sigh as I fold my hands beneath my head and stare at the ceiling in my bedroom. I wonder what Cora is doing now. Maybe she’s undressing, slipping her slender body into a gigantic bed with linen sheets. Is she thinking about me? Why has she hesitated so much in agreeing to marry me?
I consider calling her father. Eleven million dollars aren’t going to waste over this woman. I will take my money back by force if I have to, slaughtering anyone who stands in my way. I’ll kill them all and return to Russia, but I would never be able to live out a true rise to power that way.
No. I must stay put and be calm. I can’t get ahead of myself. Her father will only be contacted if there’s a real problem. Currently, there isn’t one. Cora is excited to get out of the Lauder Estate and start living a freer life. I’m her ticket out of there, and she knows it.
I chuckle to myself. Yes, that woman is theatric. She knows how to flirt and tease, and she knows how to make me feel like I might not have her in the end, but she will succumb to what I have to offer in the end. She knows that just as well as I do. This is a dance, and she is the dancing queen.
I’m curious to know more about Cora. She seems to believe that she’s simpler than she is, but I find her quite interesting. She knows more than she lets on, and she has a high level of suspicion toward me. I know that I don’t exactly fit into the dry political climate that she’s used to, but I’m not trying to appear like anything more than a handsome stranger.
Sooner enough, we will be alone, and that’s when the dance truly begins. When Cora is solidly in my domain, she will understand who is the one holding the ropes. She’s in for a lot more than she could ever dream of.
I glance at my bedside table, where Cora’s silver handbag rests on the scratched wood. She left it in the restaurant, and it’s the only reason why I’m still going to be able to marry her. Mrs. Johnson will be taken care of. That woman has no business snooping into my personal business.
The phone that Cora had with her contained messages from the Community Operations Manager, Mrs. Johnson, suggesting that I’m not who I say I am. Well, she’s right, but Cora won’t know that. I have made sure that Mrs. Johnson will be silenced and removed from her position before Cora returns home.
I had no need to kill her, thankfully. I don’t like killing the innocent. She’s much purer than anyone else at the estate, aside from Cora. She just got in the way, and now she’s going to retire in a remote location in Russia. Goodbye, Mrs. Johnson.
People are fools. They always think they can get in my way, but time and time again, I prove them wrong. There is no stopping Viktor Kazakov. It’s simply impossible.
I shut my eyes, imagining the delicious things I’m going to do with Cora before I continue my power journey through the political offices of the United States. She is going to be mine, and that’s just the icing on the cake.
Chapter Thirteen
Cora
“Do you know where I can find Mrs. Johnson?” I ask one of the bodyguards.
It’s late, and I can’t find my handbag to let her know that I got back safely. I need to speak to her, but I haven’t found her in her quarters. It’s as though she vanished from the estate while I was gone.
The bodyguard standing in the hall shakes his head. “I don’t know where she is, sorry.”
They’re never much help. I sigh and trudge down the marble hallway, poking my head into empty rooms, hoping that I’ll find Mrs. Johnson filing papers or speaking with someone important. She must be around here somewhere. Why would she leave the estate?
I’m confused, but as I continue to search the estate for her, coming up short with each room I check, I’m starting to connect the dots. She knows something that Viktor doesn’t want me to know.
He probably took my handbag and looked through my phone. I’m not an idiot. I can put two and two together. Mrs. Johnson knew something about Viktor, and that’s why she didn’t trust him. He pulled the plug on her once he found out that she was texting me. It’s the only explanation that I have for this.
I’m trying not to get ahead of myself, but I’m afraid of what else Viktor can do. What if I do say no to him? What then? Will he make me disappear, just like he did to Mrs. Johnson? Did he kill her?
I’m probably right to be worried, but I don’t think that I can do a whole lot about it. The only thing that I can do is try to get in contact with my father. He might know what’s going on. He might be able to help me through this.
I don’t have a phone now, but I know that I can find out in Mrs. Johnson’s office. I already know that she’s not in there, and if she’s gone, there won’t be any chance that I would be caught by her. I have nothing to lose.
I’m more casual in my stride as I get close to Mrs. Johnson’s office. I know that it’s none of the bodyguards’ business what I do around the estate, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m in danger. They’ll put me on lockdown, as they had done in the past when there were national emergencies. It would put a heavy kink in my plan to contact my father.
I might also be able to gather evidence as to what Mrs. Johnson knew about Viktor, but that’s a long shot. If she was that secretive about her suspicions with me, then I doubt she would have written them down on a sticky note in her office. Regardless, it doe
sn’t hurt to look.
It’s late, almost midnight, but my eyes are wide open. The pleasant buzz that I felt from the whiskey has worn off, replaced by a giddiness that I can’t shake. It isn’t from romantic excitement this time, however. It’s from the anticipation of solving a mystery.
The door to Mrs. Johnson’s office is shut, and the lights are turned off. I can tell because I can’t see the thin sliver of yellow beneath the mahogany door. Nobody is in, but I hope it’s not locked. It wasn’t when I took a peek inside before, which is unusual because Mrs. Johnson always locks the door at night.
I creep up to the door, looking left and right down the hall. There are no bodyguards present, but one should be making his rounds soon. He won’t bother me once I get inside, though, so I place my hand on the cold brass doorknob and turn it.
I hear a click, and I’m able to push the door open. I feel along the textured wallpaper until I find a light switch, but I go into the room and close the door again before I switch it on. I don’t want to attract more attention than is necessary.
The room is dimly lit, even with the light on, and the golden texture on the wall glints beautifully against the green carpet. I always liked Mrs. Johnson’s office. There’s a feeling of comfort to it that other parts of the house fail to provide. Even the lounge that I first spoke to Viktor in wasn’t this comfortable.
The phone catches my eye once I’m finished soaking in the rural coziness of the room. It’s glossy black and looks very outdated. Very nearly everything in the estate is outdated because it’s much harder to find good quality appliances now. This phone is antique, and probably much more expensive than its modern counterpart.
I walk lightly toward the phone, all the time wondering if I should actually call my father. He could be sleeping, and he’ll probably be annoyed that I disturbed him even if he’s not. He was never very nice to me.
I place my hand on the phone, my fingers sticking to the glossy plastic as though my hand was made of bubblegum. I raise it off the base, and a dull tone exits the earpiece, awaiting a number to call. I quickly mash in my father’s phone number before I can hesitate and hold the phone to my ear.