Chapter 5 - Valentina
9 years ago
I sink back against the sturdy oak tree, its rough bark pressing into my back as I lose myself in the world of the book cradled in my hands. The gentle breeze carries the scent of blooming wildflowers, and the dappled sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves overhead, creating a tranquil oasis amidst the bustling campus.
The words on the page blur as a shadow falls across me, and I blink, startled from my literary trance. I look up to find a familiar figure standing before me—the same guy who hit me with a soccer ball the previous day during practice. His tousled brown hair and athletic build make him hard to miss.
"What do you want?" I ask, feeling annoyed at the interruption.
He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "I just wanted to apologize for yesterday. I feel terrible about hitting you."
I wave my hand dismissively. "It's fine, really. I've already forgotten about it." I gesture to the book in my lap. "As you can see, I'm perfectly alright."
He nods but doesn't leave, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. An awkward silence stretches between us, and I raise an eyebrow expectantly. "Did you need something else?"
"Well, I was wondering..." He trails off, his gaze meeting mine with a hopeful gleam. "Would you mind if I joined you?"
I blink, surprised by his request. Part of me wants to dismiss him outright—I came here seeking solitude and quiet, after all. But there's something about his earnest expression that gives me pause.
I glance over his shoulder to see one of my father's bodyguards approaching, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. A subtle shake of my head halts the man's advance—at least for now. Turning back to the guy, I shrug one shoulder nonchalantly. "Sure, you can join me."
He sinks down beside me, the grass rustling softly beneath him, and stretches out his hand. "I'm Dmitri."
My gaze flicks to his calloused palm before meeting his expectant eyes. I place my hand in his, the rough texture of his skin surprising me. "Valentina."
A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I know." His thumb brushes over my knuckles, sending an unfamiliar tingle down my spine. "It suits you."
I tilt my head, curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"
Dmitri's eyes roam over my face with an openness that makes my breath hitch. "You're very beautiful."
Heat blossoms in my cheeks at his bold words. No one has ever spoken to me in such a brazen manner, not even the boys who sometimes gawk at me from a distance. Aside from my mother's gentle reassurances before she passed, I can't recall the last time someone called me beautiful. I drop my gaze, fiddling with the corner of my book. "You don't have to say that."
He shakes his head adamantly. "No, it's true." His brown eyes hold my gaze intensely. "I couldn't reply the last time because... well, I was gobsmacked by your beauty."
I blink in surprise at his candid admission. "Gobsmacked? That's a rather strong word." A faint smile tugs at my lips. "Do you even know the meaning?"
Dmitri's shoulders rise in a casual shrug. "I may not be going to college." He doesn't seem bothered by that. "But I still went to high school."
The smile slips from my face as I process his words. "You're not going to college?" I echo, unable to hide the shock in my tone. Education has always been a given in my privileged world.
He shakes his head again, his expression open and unapologetic. "There's no money for that luxury," he says with a rueful quirk of his lips. "My sister needs to go to school more than I do."
I glance away shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "I come here every day to read," I confess quietly. "It's quiet and secluded."
Dmitri remains silent, his gaze roaming over the surrounding trees and wildflowers as if seeing them anew through my eyes. I study his profile, the sharp angle of his jaw and the faint crease between his brows as he takes in our little sanctuary.
Encouraged by his attention, I continue. "If you'd like..." My voice shakes for a moment, but I gather my courage. "I could bring more books tomorrow. We could read together."
His head whips around to face me, eyes widening in surprise. I hold my breath, suddenly second-guessing my impulsive offer. But then a slow smile spreads across his face, transforming his features into something breathtakingly joyful.
"Yes," he says eagerly, leaning closer. "I would love that."
A delighted laugh bubbles up from within me, and I can't contain the brilliant grin that stretches my lips. For the first time in my sheltered life, I've made a friend. The realization fills me with a giddy sense of freedom.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand and reluctantly lift my head from Dmitri's shoulder, the comforting warmth of his embrace fading. He stands without a word, his brow furrowed in thought.
"Do you hate me?" The question escapes in a tremulous whisper.
Dmitri pauses, regarding me with an indecipherable look. "I don't know what to call this emotion," he admits slowly, "but I wouldn't call it hate." His eyes hold mine with an intensity that roots me to the spot. "Hate is such a strong word when it comes to you."
I search his face, yearning for any shred of reassurance, but he offers none. A heavy silence stretches between us as he turns away, the muscles in his back taut with tension. "I can't, however, disassociate you from your father." The words slice through me like sharpened steel.
Tears I've held back spill down my cheeks again. The man I loved—love—stands before me, utterly unreachable.
"I don't want to keep you down here, bound to a chair," he says after a long pause.
My heart leaps with a spark of hope before his next words dash it away. "You helped me once, so I'll extend that courtesy." He shifts his weight, glancing toward the door. "But I can't have you pulling a stunt like you did earlier."
I nod, my voice catching in my throat. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see you."
Several tense heartbeats pass before he breaks the silence. "Nothing can happen between us, Valentina." My name on his lips sends a pang through my stomach. I turn my face away, unable to meet his eyes. A tremor runs through me, and I wrap my arms around myself, as if to hold the pieces of my shattered heart together.
Dmitri crosses to the door. "I'll send the guard to show you to your room if you promise not to try to run again."
I nod, not trusting my voice. Dmitri lingers for a moment, then leaves the room.
I bury my face in my hands as sobs shake my body. The enormity of Dmitri's words hits me with brutal force. My own father, the man who doted on me and provided every luxury, is responsible for the utter destruction of Dmitri's family. How could he be so heartless, so cruel?
A million questions swirl in my mind as the veil of ignorance is ripped away. I had lived such a sheltered, privileged life. How many others suffered at my father's hands while I remained blissfully unaware?
The scrape of a key in the lock jolts me, and I hastily wipe the tears from my cheeks as the door swings open. A burly guard eyes me warily.
"Follow me." His gruff voice leaves no room for argument.
With leaden steps, I trail behind him through a dimly lit hallway and up the stairs. He stops before an ornate wooden door and gestures for me to enter. The room is far nicer than I expected: There's a queen-sized bed draped in plush linens, and antique armoires line the walls.
"The boss says you're free to move around, but I'll be with you at all times." He pins me with a stern look.
I nod mutely, my gaze drifting to the window. Night has fallen, the inky blackness providing no clues about my location. The guard slips back through the door, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I stare up at the vaulted ceiling.
"Did you know, Mama?" I whisper into the stillness. "Did you know the kind of monster Papa truly is?"