Chapter 11 - Vladimir
I stand by the window, my gaze fixed on Sofia as she hovers uncertainly near the bed. The thin straps of her shirt leave her shoulders bare, drawing my eyes to the graceful curve of her shoulders. God. In this moment of vulnerability, she’s gorgeous beyond belief. But I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.
My jaw clenches as I force myself to look away from her long, shapely legs glimmering beneath those satin shorts.
Sofia's green eyes dart around the room, avoiding mine. "So this is where you sleep," she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she picks up a fluffy cushion. "I expected more… I don't know, leather?"
I arch an eyebrow. "Disappointed?"
A hint of a smirk plays at her lips. "Immensely."
She climbs into bed, pressing herself against the far edge as if afraid I might bite. I suppress a smile at her obvious discomfort. Part of me wants to reassure her, but I know better than to coddle this ice princess.
I slide under the covers on my side, maintaining a respectful distance. "You can relax. I won't touch you."
Sofia scoffs. "As if I was worried about that."
"Weren't you?" I can't resist needling her a bit.
She turns to glare at me, green eyes flashing. "You may be used to women throwing themselves at you, Vladimir, but I'm not impressed by muscles and a brooding stare."
I chuckle softly. "Good. Because I'm not trying to impress you."
Sofia rolls onto her side, putting her back to me. "Then we understand each other perfectly."
As silence falls between us, I find myself hyper-aware of her presence—the soft sound of her breathing, the faint scent of her shampoo. My body urges me to close the distance between us, to pull her against me and bury my face in her hair. But I remain still, respecting the boundaries she's set.
This arrangement may have started as an arranged transaction, but I'm beginning to realize it could become far more complicated than I anticipated. Sofia Orlov is a force to be reckoned with, and I have a feeling she'll be testing my self-control in ways I never expected.
When she tosses to face me, trying to get comfortable, I observe she’s wide awake.
I clear my throat, breaking the tense silence. It’s better than staring at one another awkwardly. "Your mission. Tell me about it."
Sofia stiffens, her back still turned to me. "What about it?"
"Why go it alone?" I probe, my tone direct. "It's not exactly a smart move."
She gives me a death stare. "And what would you know about smart moves, Vladimir? You're not the one with four overbearing brothers breathing down your neck."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by her flash of anger. "Enlighten me."
"They treat me and Natalia like we’re made of glass," she spits out, sitting up. The moonlight catches her blonde hair, giving her an almost ethereal glow. "Natalia hasn’t truly questioned it, for if she could have it her way, she’d forget all about the Bratva. She’s always craved normal, whatever that is. But I’ve always wanted to be a part of it and it’s absurd for them to treat me as if I can't handle myself in our world."
"Can you?" I challenge, propping myself up on one elbow.
Sofia's laugh is sharp, cutting. "I've been reading since I could walk. I know six ways to kill a man without using a weapon. But to them, I'm still little Sofie who needs protecting."
I observe her carefully, noting the fire in her eyes, the set of her jaw. "And this mission is your way of proving them wrong?"
"It's my way of doing what needs to be done," she retorts, her voice icy. "Someone has to step up, and if my brothers are too busy coddling me to see the threat, I'll handle it myself. Besides, they don’t understand that sheltering us won’t keep us safe.”
I feel a grudging respect growing for this woman. “It won’t?”
She shakes her head. “They won’t always be around, will they?” she whispers. “Natalia could get picked up off-campus. Someone could break in. There are a million ways we could get hurt because of their actions, and the only way to protect us is to keep us informed. But, they never understood that.”
There’s a wistfulness in her tone that tugs at my heart. The woman in her simply wants to be understood, and the truth is, she makes complete sense.
“You’re right,” I say softly.
I watch as surprise flickers across Sofia's face, her icy demeanor thawing slightly. "You… approve?" she asks, skepticism lacing her voice.
"I get where you’re coming from," I reply, holding her gaze. "It takes guts to go against your family, especially in our world. But more than that, it takes skill to survive. There’s no reason why you shouldn’t be trained like your brothers."
Sofia's posture relaxes marginally. "I have the skill," she asserts, chin raised defiantly.
I nod, acknowledging her claim. "Then show me. Prove it's not just bravado."
A ghost of a smile plays on her lips. "Is that a challenge, Vladimir?"
"Consider it an offer," I say, my voice softening. "To help, not hinder. If you're determined to learn all about your world, you should be prepared."
Sofia studies me, her green eyes searching my face. "Why would you help me?"
I shrug, feeling oddly exposed under her scrutiny. "Because I'd rather see you succeed than fail. And because I know what it's like to have something to prove."
The silence stretches between us, charged with a new understanding. Finally, Sofia nods with a soft smile playing on her lips, a smile that lights up every feature of her beautiful voice. "Alright," she whispers at last. "I might just take you up on that.”
***
Sunlight streams through the gaps in the curtains, rousing me from sleep. I blink, momentarily disoriented, before my eyes land on Sofia's sleeping form beside me. She's curled on her side, facing away from me, her blonde hair splayed across the pillow.
In sleep, her face is relaxed, free from the guarded expression she wears when awake. I find myself captivated by the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, the way the morning light catches the curve of her cheek.
A strange warmth spreads through my chest. It's disconcerting, this softness I feel watching her. I'm more of a don’t let them get too close kind of guy, but Sofia… she's already slipping past my defenses.
I resist the urge to reach out and brush a strand of hair from her face. Instead, I lie still, savoring this moment of peace before the day begins. Before she wakes and the walls go back up between us.
Sofia stirs, mumbling something incoherent. I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting her to catch me staring. But as she stretches and her eyes flutter open, I can't help but steal another glance.
Our eyes meet, and for a brief moment, I see vulnerability in her gaze before her usual icy mask slides into place.
"Good morning," I say, my voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” she says, rubbing away the sleep from her eyes.
I clear my throat, pushing myself up to sit against the headboard. "We start your training today," I announce without preamble, my tone matter-of-fact.
Sofia blinks, surprise flitting across her features before she schools her expression. "Training?" she echoes, her voice still husky from sleep.
"Yes. If you're going to survive in this world, you need to be prepared." I watch her closely, gauging her reaction. "As you said, I won't always be there to protect you."
She bristles at that, her green eyes flashing. "I don't need your protection," she snaps, sitting up and tossing her hair over her shoulder.
I can't help but smirk at her defiance. "Well, your brothers won’t be there either. Meet me in the gym in thirty minutes."
Without waiting for a response, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and stand. As I head for the door, I feel her gaze burning into my back.
***
Thirty minutes later, I'm in the gym, twisting my hands as I wait for Sofia. The sound of the door opening makes me look up. She enters, her chin held high, dressed in form-fitting workout clothes that hug her curves.
I swallow hard, forcing my gaze back to my hands. "Ready?" I ask, my voice gruffer than I intended.
Sofia approaches the ring, her steps echoing in the quiet space. "As I'll ever be," she retorts, her tone icy but with an undercurrent of… is that excitement?
I toss her a pair of gloves. "Put these on. We'll start with the basics."
The sound of Velcro ripping fills the air as we both tighten our gloves. I step into the ring, gesturing for her to follow. As she does, I can't help but notice the determined set of her jaw and the fire in her eyes.
This isn't just about training for her, I realize. It's about proving herself—to me, to her brothers, to the world.
I feel a spark of admiration, quickly followed by a surge of protectiveness. I'll make her strong, I vow silently.
But as she takes her stance across from me, her gaze locked on mine, I can't shake the feeling that I might be the one in danger here.
***
I demonstrate a basic jab, my fist cutting through the air. "Like this," I say, keeping my voice neutral. "Now you try."
Sofia mirrors my movement, her form surprisingly good for a beginner. Her blonde hair, tied back in a tight ponytail, swings with each punch.
"Not bad," I grunt, circling her slowly. "Again. Faster this time."
She complies, her green eyes narrowing in concentration. The sharp sound of her fist hitting the air echoes in the gym.
"You're tensing up too much," I observe, moving closer. "Relax your shoulders."
Without thinking, I place my hands on her shoulders, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her top. Sofia stiffens at my touch but doesn't pull away.
"Like this," I murmur, gently easing the tension from her muscles.
Our eyes lock, and for a moment, the air between us feels charged. I clear my throat, stepping back. "Now, let's work on your defense."
We continue training, the rhythm of our movements punctuated by the sound of our breathing. Sofia's determination is evident in every line of her body, her focus unwavering despite the sweat beading on her brow.
"Time to put it all together," I announce, raising my hands. "Try to take me down."
Sofia's eyes flash with challenge. She lunges forward, her movements quick but predictable. I dodge easily, catching her wrist and using her momentum to flip her onto her back.
In an instant, I'm on top of her, pinning her to the mat. Our faces are inches apart, and I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest against mine.
"You left yourself open," I say, my voice low and husky.
Sofia's eyes blaze up at me, a mix of frustration and something else I can't quite name. The heat between us is palpable, electric.
"Again," she demands, her voice breathless but determined.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. This training session has become far more dangerous than I anticipated.
As I help Sofia to her feet, my hand lingers on her arm a moment too long. I can't ignore the warmth of her skin, the slight tremble in her muscles from exertion. My protective instincts war with a growing desire I hadn't anticipated.
"Ready?" I ask, my voice gruffer than intended.
Sofia nods, her green eyes narrowed in concentration. "Always."
We circle each other, the tension palpable. I'm hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. When she strikes, I'm caught off guard by her speed.
Before I can react, Sofia hooks her leg behind mine, throwing me off balance. In a fluid motion, she leverages her weight, and suddenly, I'm the one on my back, staring up at her triumphant face.
"Looks like I'm a quick learner," she says, a hint of a smile breaking through her usually icy demeanor.
I'm acutely aware of her body straddling mine, her hands pinning my wrists to the mat. Her blonde hair, escaped from its ponytail, frames her flushed face. For a moment, her carefully constructed walls seem to crumble, revealing a glimpse of the passionate woman beneath.
"You certainly are," I manage to say, my voice husky. "But don't get cocky. You still have a lot to learn."
Sofia's smile widens, a challenge glinting in her eyes. "Then teach me, Vladimir."
The way she says my name sends a shiver down my spine. I've never been more conflicted in my life.
And then, I push her up with brute strength, until she’s straddling me, and we’re both sitting upright, chest-to-chest, staring into each other’s eyes.
“Again,” she whispers. I force myself to pry my gaze away from her lips.
Sofia's expression shifts, her momentary openness replaced by a steely determination. She leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "I want to learn about power play," she demands, her voice low and unyielding.
I freeze, caught off guard by her directness. "Power play?"
She pulls back, green eyes locking onto mine. "Yes. If I'm going to survive in this world, I need to understand all aspects of control and manipulation."
I release her abruptly, forcing Sofia to readjust her position. She's still in my lap, and the proximity is maddening. "It's not a game, Sofia," I warn, my tone grave. "Power can corrupt, destroy."
"I'm not naive," she retorts, her words laced with that familiar icy sarcasm. "I've seen what power does. That's why I need to master it."
I study her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. There is none. Just fierce determination and a hint of something else—vulnerability, perhaps? It's gone before I can be sure.
"Fine," I concede, my voice gruff. "But we do this my way. Slowly. Carefully."
A triumphant smirk plays at the corners of her mouth. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
As Sofia climbs off me and extends a hand to help me up, I'm struck by the realization that I've severely underestimated her. She's not just a damsel in need of protection. She's a force to be reckoned with, raw potential waiting to be harnessed.
"Same time tomorrow?" she asks, gathering her things.
I nod, unable to tear my gaze away from her. "Be ready. It only gets harder from here."
Sofia pauses at the door, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "I'm counting on it," she says, her voice a mix of challenge and promise.
As I watch her leave, I know one thing for certain—life with Sofia Orlov will never be dull.