VLAD (The V Games #1)(8)
He stands and rubs a hand through his black, long hair that ends just above his shoulders. “Miss Volkov,” he utters in exasperation. “What is this about?”
I move to her again and tap the buttons on the laptop as if showing her something.
His eyes track me, his cheeks heat, and his shoulders tense. “What is it?” he demands, and I smile politely in his direction.
Diana gestures to the seat he’s vacated, but he ignores her and begins pacing the floor.
“You have this one chance,” Diana reminds him.
He shakes his head. “I was going to pay it back.”
Liar.
“I didn’t think it would be noticed and I could put it back before—”
She holds her hand up to stop him. Sweat beads on his forehead and he looks back toward the door.
I press my hand onto her shoulder—another one of our many signals—letting her know I’m leaving to get Anton, our father’s most loyal subject, a bodyguard of sorts.
As I pass Irvac, he grabs my arm and jerks me toward him.
“What are you telling her? Is this you always in the corner with your damn laptop?” he sneers, squeezing my arm unbearably tight. I whimper despite myself and try to pull free, but he has height and strength over me.
“Let her go. Now,” my sister demands as she chambers the Glock from under her desk, cracking the tense atmosphere with the echo of the metal.
He releases me with a hard shove, and I tumble backward against a tall glass bookcase, hurtling through the glass. It rains down around me like deadly confetti, the shards peppering over my shoulders and the impact robbing me of breath.
A popping sound rings in my ears as Diana pulls the trigger, and the thud as Irvac’s heavy form hits the floor makes my heart jump.
“Thieving is one thing, touching one of us is another entirely,” she breathes, fury dripping from her every word.
The door bursts open and Vlad stands in the doorway, much to our surprise. Diana hasn’t seen him since he took her to lunch after his brother’s funeral. I’d wanted to grill her about the date, but bit my tongue. She didn’t offer much either.
He looks down at the still-warm body, and then to my sister. Finally, his intense golden-brown eyes flit to me. I fixate on his full lips as he casually asks, “Am I interrupting something?” He arches his brow, his only show of brief amusement.
I gather my wits and pick some of the glass from my clothes. Diana rushes over to me, inspecting my face and neck like a mother hen. Her icy blue eyes flicker with worry. My sister may be a badass most of the time, but sometimes, only to me, she’ll show a glimpse of the girl I used to run with through the woods behind our house as we pretended to be evil queens hunting down our lowly peasants. I can almost hear her childhood cackling—
“Are you injured?” she asks, concern pulling her brows down in a scowl as she helps me to my feet. All traces of the smiley, fun-loving sister I grew up with are gone. The serious, shrewd powerhouse of a woman is back in place.
“I’ll be fine,” I assure her, my voice terse. I step past her, but have to stop when Vlad doesn’t move from the doorway, blocking me from fleeing. I look up at him, expecting him to be studying Diana or the scene before him, because I’m invisible to him—to everyone—but our eyes clash, and the world stops moving.
My heart slows, and the blood rushes through my veins like wine into a goblet over dinner. Looking at him up close is like seeing all Seven Wonders of the World at once. Like hearing my favorite song sang live and just for me. Seconds pass, but they feel like hours. His eyes skim from my eyes to my nose. My cheeks heat at his careful inspection. The moment I blush, one corner of his lips twitch as though he might smile. He doesn’t. Instead, he continues staring down at me, this time landing on my lips. I part them slightly as if to drink him in.
I can taste his breath.
I can sense the beating of his heart.
I can almost hear his thoughts.
My own heart is whispering, “Recognize me.” And just like that, he moves out of my way to take the seat Irvac just vacated and the moment is gone. All the air leaves me in a rush, and I stumble from the office into the arms of Anton, who catches my fall.
“What happened?” he demands, moving me to a seat along the wall of the corridor.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “It’s been dealt with.”
He leaves me to check on Diana, and I gather my strength to stand and go to my room. As I run through the maze of intricate hallways, I try not to think about him, but like the dangling of a carrot I can never have, Vlad’s perfect eyes are in the forefront of my mind. Seeing me. Noticing every small freckle I desperately try to hide behind my foundation.
I strip my clothes from my clammy body and hiss through the pain of some cuts over my chest. Going to the bathroom, I turn the shower on cold and step beneath its punishing rainfall.
Blood clears to show small slits on my skin. I loosen the braid in my hair and pull the strands apart, letting the water soak through the long blonde locks. Unlike my sister, I have virgin hair, skin, and body. Guys have never been on my radar, apart from the weird allure Vlad has over me. I’m not ugly, just indifferent to beauty. I don’t try to emphasize my assets. Makeup is for girly girls. I always have my nose in books and study texts. My sister says I’m more beautiful than she is—more like our mother. I know she only does this to boost my self-esteem. Our mother is beautiful, but she’s always lacked a backbone, so she didn’t encourage me to have any self-esteem. My father’s wandering eyes beat our mother’s confidence out of her.