Sometimes he's too cute.
Hand in hand, we walk a couple of miles through a never ending field before we reach the main road.
Already tired, I ask him to take a break until I catch my breath, the sun already coming up in the sky which means that cars should start circulating in the area.
"Why do you think Meester keeps on trying to kill us?" I ask.
He's looking in the distance, scanning the horizon for any movement, and for a second I don't think he heard me.
"I have one hunch," he finally says, plopping himself in the grass next to me.
I simply raise my eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.
"He's protecting his interests."
"What do you mean?"
"I've gone over all possibilities in my head, hell girl. I haven't had contact with Petro in years, a decade even. For him to suddenly send people out to kill me? Going as far as to blackmail Maxim into betraying me?" He purses his lips, tearing the top of grass straw and placing it in his mouth. "There's only one explanation. And it might be jumping the gun, since I have no other evidence for it. But..." he shakes his head.
"Damn it, I hate making baseless conjectures," he curses.
"You think he was the third man involved with Misha and Miles, don't you?" I ask and he nods, his expression grim.
"There's no other reason why he'd be so adamant about wiping me off the face of this earth. First the house in New Orleans, and now the plane? And something tells me he was behind the warehouse incident too. It's urgent. He's scared about something and he's trying to get rid of me as soon as possible."
"So you think he's just protecting his business interests?"
"Most probably. But that also means that there's something to protect. We need to find out how Sacre Coeur is involved with Miles and after that maybe we can get a clue into the bigger picture."
"This seems awfully complicated," I remark. There are so many connections, and it boggles my mind to try to think how each thread connects to the other.
"If it weren't, it wouldn't have stayed hidden for so long. I have a bad feeling about this, hell girl."
"I'm just surprised that you've never been able to stumble upon it until now."
"Me too. But except for my quest to find Katya and Vanya's killer, I was never in the human trafficking scene. I was never supposed to be in the loop, and it seems that they were watching me carefully to make sure I never found out too much." He shrugs, and I realize he's trying to digest all the information, a small part of him undoubtedly disappointed in himself for failing to see what was right under his nose.
"I told you before, love. Even you are not omniscient. Stop beating yourself up over it." I lay my hand over his, trying to give him some semblance of comfort.
"I just don't understand how I could have missed so many signs. Retrospectively, things are starting to make sense..."
"But that's just the thing. Miles knows you. He knows how your mind works. And by all accounts, his own mind works in a similar fashion. It wouldn't be too farfetched to think that he planned everything to lead you away from them. Not towards."
"You're right," he grunts. "No wonder I spent almost ten years looking in all the wrong places. Why, the fact that I found Mr. Petrovic and I got some information out of him was a miracle."
"I think Mr. Petrovic was the glitch in Miles' plan. Remember the goons at the restaurant," I point out and he nods.
"Yes, I don't think he wanted me to find out about him just yet. But that's the thing, Sisi. The more I remember about those years I spent with him, the more I wonder if I truly want to find my sister alive," he says, his voice dripping with vulnerability.
"Vlad," I whisper his name, caressing his hand with my own. "We'll figure it out. We'll find your sister and you'll be able to avenge Vanya too," I tell him, leaning my head on his shoulder. "We'll do everything together. One step at a time."
"Sisi," he takes a deep breath, his head touching mine as he scoots me closer, "I'm so happy you're with me. In all this hell, you're the only thing that's ever brought me joy. True joy." He raises my hand, linking our fingers together. "Even when my judgement gets cloudy, you're there to scare the storm away," he continues, and my heart does a somersault in my chest.
"You know, you can still abandon your life of crime and become a poet," a smile pulls at my lips, "you'd become an instant bestseller," I tell him, trying to lighten the mood.
"Of course," he instantly replies. "You'd be my muse and I'd channel all your loveliness into my words," he turns towards me, and I finally see his lips quirking up in amusement. "But then I'd also have to kill more," he continues, a wicked expression on his face, "since I can't ever share you with the world."
Brushing the hair off my face, his knuckles caress my skin, slowly moving lower until his thumb skims my lips.
"It's already enough that I want to kill every man who's ever glanced upon you," his words inflame me even as I realize the precariousness of our situation—stranded in the middle of nowhere with no means of getting home. "But to have the entire world in love with you too?" He shakes his head.
"The entire world in love with me? Aren't you jumping the gun?"
"Nope," he answers immediately, "because there's no way anyone would take one look at you and not fall in love with you." His voice sends shivers down my back, his words reminding me that Vlad doesn't see me like the rest. In his eyes I'm so precious there's no way others would see me as less.
I raise my gaze towards him, catching his hand in mine as I bring it to my mouth, my lips skirting around his knuckles.
"Thank you," I whisper, "for making me feel so loved."
His regard for me never fails to surprise me, the way his love can be so pure and yet so wicked at the same time.
He treats me better than a queen. Me, the girl who everyone looked down upon—the cursed, unwanted one. Yet when he looks at me with those dark eyes at his, I finally feel like I matter. That all I endured so far was never a misfortune, but rather a test. I had to earn the fortune I now have, and frankly, I wouldn't have it any other way.
Because not only did my past shape me into who I am, but it also helped me recognize just how lucky I am to have this unusual man's love.
"You should never thank me, Sisi, for treating you like you deserve. Hell, you deserve so much more than I can give you. Sometimes I worry that you might find someone else. Someone... better."
His voice is low, his forehead slightly creased as he admits this. The vulnerability behind his voice astounds me and I realize that I'm not the only one thinking I'm not worthy.
He is too.
"Vlad," I softly call his name, his dark eyes on mine as I lose myself in those depths. "There's no one better than you. There won't ever be anyone else. Period."
There's a slight twitch in his upper lip as he regards me intently, almost without blinking.
"For me, you are the other half of my soul," I say, and his features relax, a lightness appearing on his face, "you are the one requirement I need to live, just like I know I am yours," I place his hand over my heart, letting him hear how it beats for him. "Don't ever think you're less, Vlad. Because to me you are everything."
"Sisi," he releases an anguished sound, "my darling Sisi," he says as he draws me into his arms, holding me so tight we might melt into one. "I can't help myself from wondering what I did to deserve you. You're just..." he trails off, his fingers moving up and down my back in a slow caress.
"Perfection," he finally says, and I snuggle closer in his arms, allowing his heat to seep into my skin, his love into my heart, his adoration into my soul.
And as the sun comes up into the sky, a reddish hue staining the horizon line, we stay like that—wrapped in each other and pretending we are indeed one. That we're not separate bodies, nor separate entities. No, as my cheek rests on his, my body molded to his, we are one being.
"Ya lyublyu tebya," I murmur softly into his hair, telling him I love you in his language, the on
ly reason I'd wanted to learn it.
He stills, shocked.
"Isho," he says, urging me to say it again, "isho."
"Ya ochen lyublyu tebya," I repeat it and he crashes his mouth to mine, prying my lips open and breathing in the words from my mouth.
"Ya tozhe," he rasps. "Ah, milaya, ya tak tebya lyublyu... v etu zhizn mne nuzhna tolka ti odna," his voice breaks as he tells me that I'm the only thing he needs in this life, the sound of his promise of love never sweeter as I know he means it from the bottom of his heart.
I don't know how long we stay like this, but eventually we decide we need to keep on walking until we find a car willing to take us into the city.
Seeing the fatigue on my face, Vlad doesn't even let me try to walk, swinging me over his shoulder and giving me a piggyback ride.
I hold tightly on to his shoulders, letting myself absorb the heat of him.
He keeps on walking, and after some time I start feeling guilty that I'm an added weight on his back. No matter the evidence to the contrary, he's still human.
"You should put me down now. I'm well rested," I tell him, but he simply refuses, stubbornly continuing forward.
"I mean it, Vlad. You can put me down," I tap his shoulder, but he doesn't even reply this time, trudging his way forward.
By chance, I see a car approaching and I start waving my hands in the air, hoping to get their attention.
A couple in their mid-forties stop by us, giving us a one over before inviting us to share the car with them. Luckily, they are also heading upstate, so they can drop us somewhere close to Marcello's house.
Once inside the car, both Vlad and I start relaxing a little. Still, I don't think he knows the meaning of loosening up, and I can see the way his mind is once more at work, most probably working theories and mentally testing future scenarios.
Sighing deeply, I can only hope that the confrontation with Marcello won't be too bad. And before I know it, my eyes drift closed, a deep sleep claiming me.
It's not much later that I feel Vlad slowly shake me awake. I groggily open my eyes just as he gathers me into his arms, thanking the couple for taking us and wishing them a great trip.
"You can put me down," I tell him, my voice husky from sleep. He looks a bit reluctant to do it, but eventually he lowers me to my feet.
I stretch a little, my limbs aching from all the exertion, and I look around us to try to gauge where we are.
"How much longer until Marcello's house?" I raise my head up to gaze at him.
His eyes are focused on me as a slow smile starts creeping on his face.
"What?" I frown.
"You said Marcello's house. Before, you used to call it home," he replies, a little too proud of himself.
"Did I?" I feign ignorance as I keep on walking. Still, I can't wipe the grin off my face as I realize he is right. It's been quite some time since I've stopped calling it home. And it's all because my home changed from a place to a person.
"I know you're smiling," he calls out from behind me, clearly amused. "And you're going in the wrong direction," he points out after I'm already quite ahead of him.
I turn sharply, my eyes narrowed at him.
"Just admit I'm your home," his eyes twinkle with mischief as he comes by my side, taking my arm and placing it in the crook of his elbow.
"Maybe," my lips twitch, but it's all I'm willing to give him. His ego is already too inflated.
"I knew it," he whistles, tugging me closer and telling me the house is not too far.
"Are you worried about the meeting?" He eventually asks, his tone serious.
I tilt my head towards him, briefly considering the question.
"I don't know," I answer honestly. Because I really don't. Marcello vehemently prohibited me from having anything to do with Vlad, so I know it won't be a pleasant meeting in the least.
I am, though, a little worried about disappointing him. We might not have known each other long, but I'd learned to respect him and his true care for the family. He may not be an open book most days, but he's always been fair to me and he's given me an opportunity to live with him when he didn't have to. I was, after all, technically an adult when I left Sacre Coeur, and definitely not his responsibility.
And so I find myself backed in a corner, since I don't want to lose Marcello's regard, but I will definitely not give Vlad up.
"We can just hope for the best, right?" I ask, forcing a smile.
"Marcello isn't an ogre," Vlad jokes, "for all his ogre-ish tendencies. But he can be quite unyielding," Vlad mentions, but upon seeing my eyes slightly widening in worry, he amends, "but I'll take care of it, Sisi. Don't worry about it. In fact, don't worry about anything. I'll handle it all," he peers down at me, his expression so sincere that I can't help but lean slightly into him, placing all my trust in him.
"Ok," I reply softly.
The couple really did us a favor by dropping us close to the house, so we only have to walk a couple of miles to get to the main gates.
Upon seeing us, the guards immediately open the gates for us, welcoming us inside.
I guess they didn't get the memo that Vlad is persona non grata.
There's a long alleyway that leads from the main entry gates to the house, flower beds on both sides of the stone path.
We're halfway down the alleyway when I feel Vlad tense. I don't even have time to ask what's going on as he shoves me behind him, a loud gunshot permeating the air.
Eyes wide, I look up to see my brother and Lina in the doorway. Marcello has a murderous expression on his face as he's pointing a gun straight at us.
"Really, 'cello?" Vlad drawls, taking a step forward. His arm is still stretched out to keep me behind him.
But some type of warning goes off in my mind, and I swat his arm aside, going to his side. I watch in horror as blood pools from his shoulder, the bullet deeply lodged inside. Vlad doesn't seem to even mind it as his gaze is firmly on my brother.
"Are you crazy?" I twirl around, yelling at Marcello. "And you," I turn my head slightly. "You just got shot!" I exclaim, already panicking. I've never seen Vlad hurt before, and the sight of that blood running down his shirt is enough to make me hyperventilate.
It's one thing when he's in a fight and I know there's no one who can best him. But it's quite another thing in this situation, because I'm sure he's not going to engage my brother in any way.
I've seen it before, at my birthday party. There's a part of Vlad that considers Marcello his closest friend, and even though my brother may not share that sentiment, it's clear that Vlad's skewed moral code would never allow him to do something to him. In his own warped way, he cares about Marcello.
Vlad's lips pull up in a twisted smile as he places his hand over the place he'd been shot, feeling for the hole. Fingers drawn together, he sticks them inside the wound, looking for the bullet.
My eyes must be the size of two saucers as I can do nothing but stare at this display of insanity.
His lips twitch as he finds the bullet, more blood dripping from the wound and down his hand. Once he has a good grasp on it, he tugs it out, dropping it to the floor with a thud.
His shirt is a mess, the material shredded around the gun site. But it's the bullet hole that has me worried, so angry looking as it gushes out even more blood.
In all the medical shows I've watched, it's always imperative to not remove the foreign object, as it might lead to hemorrhage.
Vlad knows this too. I know he does. So what does he think he'll succeed with this display?
I act out of pure instinct alone, grabbing the hem of my dress and ripping the end of it. I don't waste any time as I hurry to his side and start wrapping the material around his shoulder and across his wound.
"You're crazy," I mutter, a little put off with him for taking his own safety so lightly.
We survive an almost plane crash just for him to bleed out on me from an unnecessary gunshot? No, sir. I won't have it.
"I'm your craz
y." He murmurs softly, his gaze gentle as he looks down at my efforts to reach his shoulder and properly bandage it.
Belatedly, I hear the sounds of steps behind me, and so I do the only thing I can. I spin around and I place my own body in front of Vlad's.
"Enough!" I tell my brother.
He's maybe a few steps away, his gun still pointed at Vlad. Lina is behind him, her gaze filled with worry as she looks between me and Vlad.
"Sisi, get inside the house," Marcello barks the order, his eyes fixed on Vlad.
"I'm not going anywhere," I reply, firmly placing myself in front of his gun. "And you're not shooting anyone either."
"Sisi, go inside," he grits his teeth, and I wonder if this is his boiling point. Still, knowing Vlad's hardheadedness about my brother, I'm not about to leave him alone so he can offer himself up as sacrifice.
"No," I take a few steps back until my back hits Vlad's front. "I'm not leaving my husband," I state confidently.
"Husband?" Marcello sputters, and Lina's eyes widen as she looks at me intently, probably trying to ascertain the validity of the claim.
I blink twice as I realize a loophole I hadn't thought of before. Leaning into Vlad, I whisper, "the marriage is real, right?"
"Of course it's real," he replies immediately, almost insulted, "I wouldn't fake marry you."
"Good," I nod. "Just wanted to check since the minister seemed a little off. I thought maybe you hired an actor," I admit thoughtfully.
"He was real," Vlad mutters, "I just used a little intimidation on him, nothing more. But the certificate is real and filed. Made sure of it myself." He preens, and somehow I can't take him seriously with a gaping hole in his shoulder that's now bled all over the strap of material I'd wrapped around it.
"Great," I add drily.
"Sisi!" my brother yells at me and I jerk away from Vlad, a little disoriented. "I don't know what he told you to agree to marry him, but you need to back away. I'll take care of him."
"Should I tell him what you threatened to get me to marry you?" I ask him, almost amused.
He immediately shakes his head, the corner of his lip half-turned.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 60
