Silence.
Taking me with him to this function was a thoughtful move. And I was grateful, even though I might never tell him that.
“Don’t worry about a professional doing my makeup and styling my hair,” I said to her. “I’ll handle it myself.”
“What, no!”
“Hilda.” I reached out and held her hand. “I need you to trust me. Okay?”
She hesitated, unsure of what to do or say.
“I’ve got this.”
“But Artur….”
“…will understand that it wasn’t your fault the professional bailed on you,” I finished her statement. “There’s no time to find another one. So let’s improvise.”
She let out a soft sigh. “Fine.”
“Fantastic.”
***
With Hilda’s help and the assistance of a couple of other maids, I was ready before 8:00 p.m. that night. As instructed. They doubted my ability to do my makeup and style my hair. But at the end of the day, they were blown away.
I was told he was waiting for me downstairs, and with a racing heart, I headed out to present myself.
The dress he got me was a long crimson gown with the hem brushing against the floor. It was sleeveless and featured a daring slit that ran along to my thighs.
Around my neck was jewelry made out of pure gold, and it matched the bracelets on my wrists. Still courtesy of Artur Tarasov.
The rich scent of my perfume filled the hallway as I walked, my high heels softly clicking on the marble floor.
From the head of the stairs, I spotted him in the living room, pacing back and forth. He was dressed in a black tux, his hair styled to perfection. The diamond watch around his wrist glinted in the light, as did his shined shoes.
When he looked up and saw me, he froze for a moment, his eyes locked to mine. I descended the stairs like a beauty queen, my manicured fingers trailing the polished railing.
I held his gaze, refusing to look away.
The man looked so attractive tonight. Hot. Sexy. Edible. And for a second, I forgot that we weren’t on speaking terms. Yet. I was no longer mad at him, but he didn’t know that because we hadn’t spoken since the incident.
He stared at me in silence when I halted in front of him. I could swear he felt the urge to throw a compliment at me. But his pride wouldn’t let him.
“Let’s go,” he said, voice as flat as the expression on his face. “I don’t want us to be late.”
You look amazing, too, douchebag.
I followed him in silence as he led me out of the building. A whole convoy was waiting for us outside, armed men escorting us to our vehicle. Five cars were in front, and another five were behind.
With everything going on in his life at the moment, he couldn’t be too prepared. I understood that, especially after the attack weeks ago. We got into the vehicle, and the convoy rolled out of the estate in a single file.
Konstantin was at the wheel while Artur and I occupied the backseat. The car’s cabin was silent throughout the drive except for the low hum of the engine. He didn’t tell me where we were going, and I didn’t ask.
I noticed we took a different turn, away from the main road that was supposedly leading out of the forest. That’s when I understood that the reason I got lost the last time I tried to escape was because I didn’t know about this secret route.
We traveled for another ten minutes before bursting out into the city. This shortcut was shorter than a shortcut, I had to admit.
The night was pulsing as the convoy sped through intersections. The streets were washed in amber lights, the air beyond the window warm and restless. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of roasted corn, exhaust fumes, and blaring horns.