I tilted my head to see his face more clearly. “For a minute,” I said, bumping my shoulder against his. “I thought I wastripping.”
As soon as I turned to my stool, the ground spun beneath me. My hand landed on the counter to steady myself, rubbing my forehead. “What the fuck? Does the Earth actually spin?” I laughed. “Science.”
Suddenly, a grip tightened on my waist. The next thing I knew, I was seated on Artur’s lap, my hands resting on his broad shoulders. I looked at him, and everything blurred. There were three of him, or at least it felt that way. Despite the fuzziness, I focused on the one in the middle, locking eyes with him. His eyes captivated me the first time I saw him at the lingerie shop. Knowing how dangerous he was, I still couldn’t look away.
“There are three of you.”
“You’re drunk,” he muttered, and my eyes dropped to his lips.
“No, I’m not,” I whispered. “I can see your lips. See, I can touch them.”
My whole body quivered as I pressed a finger to his lower lip. They were so full, warm, and wet. I traced my thumb over them, feeling my heartbeat race.
“What’s your name?” I didn’t know why I wanted to feel his lips move against my thumb. But I did. I craved it. “Is it Artur?” I asked,
When he didn’t answer, I begged, “Then say my name?” I was desperate to feel his lips against my finger.
He tightened his grip around my waist.
“Say my name?” I asked, and his jaw clenched.
For a moment, I wondered if he was about to hurt me. But I didn’t move. I stayed still.
“Talk to me,” I murmured, the plea slipping out before I could bury it.
“Rodion.” His voice was low and husky, like it had been dragged through smoke. “Rodion Konstantinov.”
Chapter Seventeen
Alessia
I woke up with asplitting headache, as if my skull had shrunk overnight and my brain was clawing for space. My vision blurred at first, but I could feel the warmth of the soft bed beneath me.
The smell of wood, mixed with the lingering scent of alcohol, clung to the air. I pushed myself up, the pain in my head worsening with each movement. Blinking, I took in my surroundings.
This wasn’t the girls’ quarters where we usually slept. I was in a room with wooden walls. The window across the room offered a view of trees. There was something eerie about the quiet, the stillness pressing down on me. I tried to recall the events from the previous night, but my mind was foggy, a blur of flashing lights and loud music. I remembered the club, the heavy bassvibrating through my bones, then Artur dragging me out.
We rode his bike together, but the rest? Gone. As though someone had wiped it clean. Waking up here, wherever “here” was, unsettled me even more.
Swinging out of bed, I walked to the window for a better view. There was a black car parked outside the cottage, its sleek body blending into the shadows of the woods. No one was around, but the quiet felt oppressive, like the calm before a storm. The trees surrounding the cottage were thick, as if they could swallow the house whole. I wondered if I could make a run for it, if I could somehow escape.
But the thought passed as quickly as it came. I wasn’t foolish enough to think I could outrun Artur. Instead, I turned away from the window. I couldn’t escape this life. I walked across the room, my feet dragging toward the small bathroom. The mirror above the sink reflected a version of myself I barely recognized. My hair was a tangled mess, strands falling to my face.
The pale skin of my face was blotchy, a mix of fatigue and the aftermath of far too much alcohol. My eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them telling their own story. I looked pathetic. How much did I drink last night?
As I was about to splash water on my face, a loud voice echoed through the house. It sounded like someone was watching something—probably the TV. I froze, fear curled in my stomach and spread like ice through my veins. I didn’t know where I was, and I didn’t know who was in the house with me. The last thing I wanted was to be in trouble.
Tiptoeing, I eased the door open, wincing as the hinges creaked. The wooden floors beneath my feet creaked with every step. I paused, holding my breath, and strained to hear the voice again. Creeping forward, I pressed my body close to the walls as I navigated through the hallway. The house felt like a maze, the narrow corridors twisting around corners. The smell of freshcoffee drifted from deeper inside, mixing with the woodsy scent that had settled over me.
Finally, I reached the source of the voice. I peered around the corner and saw Matvet standing by a window. He was holding his phone where the sound came from. He fixed his gaze on the screen. The tense set of his jaw told me he wasn’t just watching something light.
I stepped out of the shadows and cleared my throat.
“Good morning,” I greeted him.
He glanced over at me, his eyes narrowing slightly before turning off the phone and slipping it into his pocket. His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than usual.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked, and I nodded. He pulled out his phone again as he walked to me, stretching it toward me. “Here. Make the call. One minute, and say less.”