Monochrome Interview (A Vampire In Love Book 2)

by May Freighter

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  MOMOCHROME INTERVIEW

  MAY FREIGHTER

  Table of Contents

  READER’S NOTE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  LIKED THE BOOK?

  FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENS NEXT IN:

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  DEDICATION

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  Copyright © May Freighter, 2017.

  The right of May Freighter to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

  This work is copyrighted. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or, if real, are used fictitiously. All statements, descriptions, information and material of any other kind contained herein are included for entertainment purposes only. Any resemblance to actual people living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design: May Freighter

  NOTE: This book is written in U.K. English.

  Some spelling may be different to U.S.

  www.mayfreighterblog.wordpress.com

  READER’S NOTE

  This spin-off novel can be read as a standalone and as part of the Helena Hawthorn Series. The story takes place during Fated Origins (Book 4).

  This book has a HEA ending.

  For more information on the series, please visit the author’s Amazon page.

  CHAPTER 1

  ALEXANDER

  “I have been wondering this for a while, Abby, but why is your skirt so long?” Alexander asked in a bored tone.

  The young woman across from him flushed the shade of her fiery hair, which had him in a foul mood since the reporter’s arrival. With her deep-set, whiskey-coloured eyes, she glanced at the laptop screen on her lap and stumbled over her words. “My name’s Abigail, Mr Grekov. I—I don’t think it’s an appropriate subject for this interview…”

  Alexander sat back in his seat and tapped his fingers on his thigh. He could not fathom what he didn’t like about her. For the last time, he assessed the woman with his piercing gaze. She was in her twenties, had a small frame, large breasts hidden behind a baggy shirt, delicate facial features, little makeup, and large-rimmed glasses. The huge lenses ruined what would have been salvaged by contacts. If she wasn’t a redhead, he would’ve offered her to stay behind, so he could help her out of the atrocious attire she wore. But, he knew a prude when he saw one. This woman was a beacon of virginity that even a blind man could see.

  “What happened to Jennifer? I was unaware I would be faced with an intern instead of a professional reporter,” Alexander said.

  “She’s my mentor and, since she got called away on business with the editors, you will have to be satisfied with me,” she replied with strained politeness.

  Alexander shifted in his seat, drawing her attention to him. He couldn’t pin her personality. One moment, this girl displayed the tendencies of an awkward, shy butterfly and the next she spoke her mind like Tanya would.

  He bent down and opened his drinks drawer. If he had to suffer through another poorly compiled page of questions, the stinging burn of alcohol would take his mind off the mundane procedure. “Whiskey or scotch?”

  Abigail waved her hands in front of her. “I don’t drink.”

  His hand froze on the bottle’s slim neck, and Alexander eyed her in disbelief. Just how strange is this woman to not drink in Ireland—the capital of pubs and alcohol?

  “I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea if you have any,” she quickly added.

  Alexander cleared his throat in an attempt to prevent a chuckle from escaping. Strange was definitely the correct term for this woman and the sooner she left, the sooner he could return to making arrangements for tonight’s VIP guests.

  “Forget the drinks then. Ask your questions.” Alexander slid the drawer shut, summoning a clink from the bottles inside.

  Abigail nodded a few too many times and typed away on the laptop keys. She paused and looked up. “This club is popular with celebrities, even though the location is somewhat isolated and the entertainment is mediocre. Do you do any—”

  Alexander raised his hand, halting her mid-sentence. Keeping his temper in check, he managed a pleasant smile. ”Pardon my rudeness, Abby. To what are you referring to when you say ‘the entertainment is mediocre’?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. She seemed lost as her gaze darted between him and her laptop screen in search of an answer.

  Alexander never faltered. He took this chance and stood with the grace of a well-bred gentleman. With his right hand, he loosened his tie and tugged the strangling material off.

  He circled around his desk. “Did you write those questions?”

  Abigail swallowed. Her heart rate picked up. It was a sound he found soothing most days but not this day. Today, the heartbeat of this human caused him to want to break the usual business mould he kept himself in.

  Stopping behind her, he planted his hand on her shoulder, noting a faint jump as the laptop on her lap danced on her knees. He went down on one knee. A mischievous glint appeared in his eye as he tucked a soft lock behind her ear.

  “I could show you what kind of entertainment keeps my patrons coming back for more,” he whispered close enough to make her shiver from his breath.

  Abigail slammed her laptop shut and jumped out of her seat. Her heart fluttered so fast, it was ready to explode. Facing him, she half-shouted, “I don’t think that’s appropriate, Mr Grekov.”

  “Alexander,” he corrected her.

  The young woman slung her bag over her shoulder. ”Please excuse me, Alexander.”

  Unable to help himself, he blocked her way. When she looked up with uncertainty, Alexander slid the glasses down her nose, revealing a set of breath-taking amber eyes with tiny flecks of gold in them. Her porcelain skin only enhanced their captivating effect, and he touched her neck. The vein beneath the surface jumped as if see
king him out. Her exposed skin drew his unwavering attention while the scent of her vanilla soap assaulted his senses.

  A knock on his office door snapped him out of his trance. Alexander handed the woman her glasses with a jerk of his wrist and opened the door to find his childe, Tanya, wearing an impatient scowl that oddly suited her tight white blouse and denim mini skirt.

  “We have to get ready,” Tanya grumbled. Even after a century away from Russia, she managed to retain her St. Petersburg accent.

  He inclined his head. ”Please escort young Abby out of the club while I change.”

  Tanya waved for the reporter to follow who frowned at his dismissal.

  Alexander turned his back and listened to the heart rate of the human as she left his office. When she was gone, he thanked the heavens that Tanya showed up when she did. He was almost tempted to sample the blood running beneath Abigail’s skin. Her red hair made his brow furrow as he strode towards the double doors and opened them to reveal his monochrome furniture.

  Alexander unbuttoned his shirt and slipped out of it. He discarded the material by throwing it on the sofa before unzipping a plastic garment bag which held his pressed cream tuxedo for tonight’s event. Since he established Russian Roulette, Wednesday remained the only day of the week where he personally entertained his vampire clientele. The game of life and death kept the younglings inclined to try and win the long-standing jackpot of four million pounds. To this day, few dared to fire the remaining two silver rounds into their chest without the fear of perishing for good. The thrill of such an event entertained Alexander’s clients as well as earned him more than enough money to keep his bank accounts always in the black.

  He changed into his new tux and ran his hand through his platinum hair. That reporter gave him a strange vibe, and he couldn’t figure out why. Most women fell head over heels for him the moment they walked into the room or wanted something from him. The lamb today behaved as if she did not want him anywhere near her.

  Why? Jennifer would not let his secret slip. So, the question remained and tormented him until Tanya clapped her bony hands.

  She stood five feet away, and he could see her concern shining through her usual mask of indifference. ”Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. Is she gone?”

  Tanya raised her thin blonde brow. ”Since when do you care about women like her, especially redheads?”

  “I don’t care about her in particular. She is Jennifer’s intern, and I am a little curious.”

  “Even more incentive to stay away. Jen will have your balls if you play with her staff.”

  Alexander chuckled as an image of the African-Irish businesswoman came to mind. Jennifer was the sole reason he could summon a large population of the press in a short amount of time. Her influence in the Irish media remained incomparable and, although she was one of the few humans who knew what he was, she never asked to be turned. For that and her hard work, Alexander held her in the highest regard.

  “You’re right as always. Have you prepared the bullets and the gun for tonight?” Alexander asked, his business persona clicking back into place.

  Tanya lifted her iPad and started tapping away on the screen. She showed him a photograph of a gun with a wooden handle and a stainless steel elongated barrel. ”I ordered a new kind of revolver. It’s a .17 calibre Ruger with six bullet slots.”

  “You seem excited, childe. Looking forward to seeing someone die?”

  “Of course.” Tanya grinned. ”It’s been boring the past three months. They always give up. So, I thought I’d shake things up a little.” When he didn’t say anything, she lowered the device and added, “I’ve put up the winnings to ten million.”

  Alexander’s eyes widened. ”Have you gone mad?”

  Tanya snorted. ”I’m bored out of my mind. As much as I love playing the accountant for our old businesses, I miss designing new ones. And with Andrew expanding our reach in America…”

  “I see. So instead of finding someone new to play with, you decided to empty our bank accounts?”

  She rolled her sky-blue eyes at him and waltzed out of the room. ”I’ll be upstairs with the guests,” she called over her shoulder.

  Running his hand through his hair, Alexander sighed. His childe knew how to give his dead heart exercise. Pasting a host’s smile on his face, he headed after her to the VIP room.

  Smoke gathered in the room as vampires puffed away at their cigars and cigarettes. Thankful that he no longer needed to breathe, Alexander clapped his hands, capturing the attention of the chatting crowd in the dimly-lit, green and gold lounge. The central spotlight above the table where Tanya placed the weapon reflected off its steel surface.

  Alexander began his speech. “Welcome guests, old and new. Tonight is a new night. The stakes are higher than ever…as is the prize.”

  A cheer erupted from the back row of standing men, and Alexander continued, “Ten million pounds will be given to the man or woman on whom Lady Luck will smile upon tonight.” He smirked. ”That is unless you withdraw for the fear of death as many before you have done.”

  Low murmurs filled the pause. Alexander’s humour faded. ”The first challengers, please take your seats at the table.”

  Two men separated from the shadows and strode towards Tanya. She welcomed them with a smile and waved for them to take their seats opposite one another. From the audience, she pointed to a woman in jeans and a leather jacket.

  “Please come here and put one bullet in the gun,” Tanya instructed.

  The vampire did as she was told.

  Alexander patiently observed her slotting a single silver-capped round into the chamber. Upon Tanya’s direction, the vampire faced the crowd and away from the contestants before spinning the cylinder and snapping it shut.

  “Here.” The woman handed Tanya the loaded weapon.

  Alexander rubbed his hands together. “Ladies and gentlemen, let us begin by selecting the first man to pull the trigger.”

  Tanya reached into her pocket and fished out two pieces of black glossy paper. She got a different member of the audience to mark one of them and folded both cards. Facing the contestants who sat at the table, she offered the cards to them. “Please take one each.”

  The vampires glared at one another and made their choice. Once the man on the left lifted the marked card into the air for all to see, the crowd fell silent. The tension built as he accepted the gun. He ran his hand through his greasy black hair and pointed the pistol at his chest. Pulling back the hammer, the vampire clutched the table with the other hand and shot a terrified silent question at Alexander who inclined his head. Once he pulled the trigger, a scream tore from the man’s chest when the bullet fired into his heart.

  The other contestant shouted, “I won! I get ten mil!”

  Alexander saw red hair disappearing between two men at the far end of the room. He strode to Tanya’s side, announcing, “I wish to congratulate our winner. It seems Lady Luck has smiled upon him and not so much on our other guest.” He spared a glance at the withering corpse in the chair. The vampire’s hair turned grey and his bulging eyes sunk in their sockets while his leathery skin darkened. ”Tonight, Tanya will do the honours of handing out the prize money.”

  Another round of cheerful clapping erupted from the crowd, and Alexander whispered into her ear, “I will be back. Take care of the rest.”

  Tanya spared him a glance. The stern expression on his face told her enough. She nodded and went to the stage with the winner.

  Alexander drowned out the cheers. He focused on the intruder. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her heading for the door. He made his way past the tables of the patrons, mumbling friendly greetings as he did so.

  The heavy doors shut behind him and the noise from the room had been eaten by the soundproof padding he paid a hefty fee for.

  Abigail sprinted down the steps, and he fleeted after her. It took two seconds before he pinned her against the wall of his office and another second for
him to clamp his hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming.

  “Good evening, Ms Greene. What were you doing in that room tonight?” he whispered as his grey eyes lit with a soul-chilling glow.

  CHAPTER 2

  ABIGAIL

  Abigail thought it was a mere rumour that Russian Roulette was a place where people played with their lives. Funny that. Here she was, trapped between an office wall and Alexander’s hard body. No matter what, she couldn’t admit to him that the moment she saw him, shivers coasted down her flesh to all the right places. No wonder Jennifer took her aside that morning, warning her about his visual perfection.

  “I was—” she began but her words failed her.

  The strange glow in his irises freaked her out a little. She pushed her glasses up, wondering whether it was the light in the room playing tricks on her.

  He whipped the glasses off her face and tilted her chin up. She had to stifle a moan when his fingers absently caressed her jawline.

  “How much did you see?”

  “Nothing,” she lied.

  Alexander’s dark brows drew together. “I cannot influence you…”

  She, too, furrowed her brow. His image became slightly blurred after her glasses left her nose. In a bid to find them, she tried ducking under his arm, but he pinned her back against the wall.

  “Where do you think you are going?” he asked.

  “I need my glasses. I can’t see much without them.”

  He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and released her. “You’re going to stay here until I figure out what to do with you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Take a seat, Abby, before I make you,” he ordered.

  There it was again—Abby—a name she hated since she was a kid. She only ever liked one person calling it—her mother who died right before her seventh birthday. Her hands balled into fists as she fought against the need to scream at him to stop calling her that.

  “Didn’t you hear what I said?” he demanded.