Chapter 5
CHAPTER 5
ELLIE
H is name is Arman Romanov, and he is magnificent. It struck me as soon as I entered the room because even before he spoke I sensed the power inside him. Luka was intimidating, but his boss, as he called him, is something else entirely.
If he had been sitting on a golden throne, I wouldn’t have been surprised because there is something so powerful, regal even about the man sitting watching me with no expression at all.
Despite what he told me, I couldn’t concentrate past his deep husky voice and glittering dark eyes. His hair is cut short, and he has the air of a distinguished, important business man.
He is wearing a black suit with a dark gray silk shirt, unfastened enough to reveal a glimpse of his muscled chest with a smattering of dark hair, and his voice is so sexy it mesmerizes me.
Even the word assassin didn’t distract me from my admiration, and yet when he mentioned my mother, I felt nothing at all. Why would I? She’s a stranger to me and my late grandmother, and I have no wish to change that.
He stands and, for some reason, appears angry and I note the lines around his eyes that tells of many sleepless nights. I’m guessing that has a lot to do with his father’s passing and I can’t imagine what he must be going through right now.
My grandmother died of old age even though cancer finished her off before her Alzheimer’s did more damage. It was a welcome end for a proud woman who would have hated ended up in care, wheeled out for visitors and not knowing who I was.
I mourn her passing but am grateful for it. Arman appears to be suffering his loss and I feel so much sympathy for him.
He fixes me with a dark stare that I return with a curious one and then he says crisply, “I must go. Luka will inform you of any changes. If you need anything, he is the man to make it happen. Good evening, Gabrielle.”
He makes to go and I say quickly, “You’re leaving.”
Fuck. Why did that sound so stupid? Of course he’s leaving.
He turns slowly and smirks. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Of course, well–”
I have no words because I should be happy about that, but for some reason it’s good to have company, no matter how freaking scary it is .
He shrugs and turns, completely ignoring my outburst and as he leaves the room, I release the breath I was holding.
Why do I miss him already?
Now I’m alone his words settle around me like a red flag.
Somebody wants to kill me.
I should be very afraid right now. Terrified even, and yet all I can wonder is why? I’ve done nothing. I’m of no use to anyone, clearly. The only use for me is working for that woman my creepy boss sent me to. Now I’m locked in a white prison with no answers and a million questions.
With a deep sigh, I make to stand, but the door opens and Luka strides through it with the usual arrogance he appears addicted to wearing.
“Come.”
He is obviously a man of few words and as I follow him, his deep voice rattles off instructions.
“You may use this house as a base and everything in it.”
He leads me into a huge kitchen, white of course, that sparkles as if it has been freshly fitted.
“The refrigerator is stocked along with the cupboards. You will prepare your own meals and clear up after yourself. Cleanliness is the most important factor in that. Mr. Romanov expects a certain standard at all times.”
“But he won’t be here.” I answer back and he raises his dark eyes.
“Whether he is here or not, you will follow his rules.”
He turns and strides through another set of doors into a laundry room.
“You will wash and iron your clothes after every use.”
He turns on his heel and heads back into the kitchen and I scurry after him as if he’s the Pied Piper.
“There is a library, a cinema room and a gym. The indoor pool is at your disposal, but you must keep the area clean and tidy. You may use the adjacent showering facilities where you will find everything you need so you don’t drop chlorinated water onto the floors of the main house.”
It appears that Arman Romanov is a clean freak. OCD to the extreme and I nod, not really intending on following this scary man’s instructions. It appears that I’m going to be here alone anyway, so I will do what the fuck I like, and that involves swearing out loud at every opportunity.
We head upstairs and he shows me back to the bedroom I woke up in and opens a door to a magnificent bathroom that takes my breath away. It is so beautiful, with a huge chandelier in the center of the ceiling and a freestanding tub under it that would fit a football team in.
A massive walk-in shower spans the length of one of the walls and a huge television screen is set above a beautiful marble fireplace. I could actually live in this room, forget the rest and I vow to make this the first activity of my incarceration.
He leads me to a large walk-in closet where many items of clothing hang with no creases in sight. They are all grouped by color and it amuses me to notice this is the only color in this whole frigging tomb.
Luka turns and stares at me with a blank expression and says roughly, “There is a phone in every room that connects to mine. If you need anything, call me day or night. The doors and windows are locked and the alarm will be activated when I leave. There are men stationed around the perimeter, but you will not see them.”
He moves toward the door. “If the unthinkable happens, and the assassin enters the house, press the panic button that you will find in every room beside the door. That will lock the room down and ensure nobody can get in. It is bomb proof, bullet proof and tamper proof. Call me on the phone and I will take care of it from there.”
I’m stunned. I can’t even form words because who the hell are these people? One room in this place is bigger than the joke I call my apartment and yet bomb proofing every room! What the actual hell?
He turns and says over his shoulder.
“You won’t see me unless you call, or Mr. Romanov decides to visit. Good evening, Miss Adams.”
I say nothing as he leaves because my jaw has hit the floor because I must have been right when I woke up – I am in heaven, after all.