Chapter 11 - Ava
One month later and, still, the lingering feeling of being caged haunted me most disastrously.
I thought I had gotten rid of him; of his presence that threatened to suffocate me and hold me captive. But no, he just had to be here, in the same room with the same aura that trapped me in the beginning. Seeing him juggled unwanted memories from the grave, where they had been buried six feet under with uncarved tombstones. I didn’t want to remember, but one look at him brought it all back.
“We can make him leave,” Declan leaned in and whispered. I exhaled, making a sound between a sigh and a scoff. He was trying to distract me, take my mind off the harbinger of doom wearing a black suit. But it wasn’t working. Nothing would.
“You know we can’t.”
Declan’s desire to kill Viktor was not one of those that could be hidden under the sun. It was bright, glaring, very obvious. Even as he shot daggers at him across the room with his eyes, I could see Declan already committing murder.
“Everyone treats him—treats them—like they’re untouchable.” He seethed, using a finger to slowly motion to the other three handsome men seated on the table with Viktor. “All I need is a bullet and an opportunity. You’ll see, by the time I’m through with them, they’ll be lying dead on the ground like fucking flies.”
Two things crossed my mind.
One: I wasn’t sure how I felt about seeing Viktor lying lifeless on the ground like a fly. He might not have been my best person, but I didn’t want him dead.
Two: I would have teased Declan, reminding him about the last opportunity he had with Viktor. But the only one who’d been beaten to pulp and left on the ground with a bruised eye and busted lip had been him, Declan. But the man was not going to take that as a friendly jab, and the last thing I wanted was to cause another spark right here in the presence of some other strangers.
Loud feet shuffling brought my attention back and I looked up to see my father moving deeper into the crowd with the rest of his men. About my father... it was either he hadn’t noticed Viktor’s presence in the room, or he had, and he chose to ignore him for the continuance of peace sake’s. Knowing my father, I opted for the latter. He didn’t want to draw unnecessary attention to himself.
Declan quickly rose to his feet, downing the content in his drink, before giving one long look. “I have to go.”
I smiled at him. Under the light, I could have sworn he glowed an angel. “I know, Declan.”
He threw a glance behind his shoulder and turned back to me. “Are you sure you’ll be fine on your own?”
“I—”
“Except she won’t be on her own.”
We both turned to the person who spoke beside him. It was a young woman who didn’t look a day older than eighteen. She had light-brown skin that reminded me of white chocolate, long dark hair that journeyed lower than her waist, and brown eyes that twinkled animatedly like a happy child.
“Hi.” She extended her arm, looking from me to Declan. “I’m Addison Mae.”
I shook her arm and observed Declan’s hardened features relaxed. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Daughter of Archie Mason.”
She beamed even brighter, seemingly pleased that she was recognized by someone. “You got that right.”
Declan shot me a look. He was in a hurry to leave. If my father didn’t find him by his side in five minutes, he was going to get a brutal call. “You’re in good hands. But I’ll be back soon.”
Offering one last encouraging smile, he walked away, and the cheery young adult occupied his seat. Ordinarily, I wasn’t comfortable with forward people with bright eyes. They gave the chills. But this one, however, managed to look classy and composed, but warm and friendly at the same time.
“I saw you when you walked into the hall and I said to myself, she might just be the only sane one around here. I need to talk to her and fast.’”
I laughed and she laughed too.
It was decided then; that I liked her already. She reminded me of who I used to be before my father inducted me into his world. I saw what she saw; the other ladies here were not as welcoming, or normal. Most of them were just shadows of their husbands, and the ones that were not were in heat.
But not Addison Mae. She was sweet, kind, and funny; and I got to learn more about her in a few minutes than I learned about myself in years. She was an open book. She wasn’t a big fan of designer wear and would rather donate all she had to the poor. She preferred fruit juice and water to strong drinks. She called them toxic.
Oh, and she was twenty-one.
It didn’t bother her that I thought she was eighteen. She waved it aside, saying she got that a lot.
Her father was a top business tycoon who rolled with the politicians and men from the dark side for power and money. That explained her VIP ticket into the hall and the reason Declan recognized her.
So far, she didn’t look like a depressed child wanting something different. On the contrary, she sounded content. The more we talked, the more I saw the potential of a friend in her.
But as the saying goes, “Every good thing sometimes has an end.”
Soon, she had to leave.
“Exchange numbers?” she asked, pointing her phone to me.
“Sure!” I thought she’d never ask. “I’ll be expecting a call. Thank you for taking the initiative to talk to me. I didn’t know I needed that until you came along.”
We were all smiles when we shared a hug and pulled away. “Thank you for not being a snub.” She stood up. “I’ll call you.”
She waved before turning around and blending into the crowd. Talking to her was like a breath of fresh air; fresh air that was immediately quenched and toxified by a familiar perfume and presence occupying the seat Addison evacuated not long ago.
My breath stilled in my lungs, and I found no courage to look him in the face. His eyes burned holes at the side of my head and his legs brushed mine under the table. My skin tingled from the impact, but I kept a straight face.
He leaned closer, close enough to feel the heat of his breath on my cheek, and I... hiccupped. From the periphery, I saw the upward tilt of his lips.
“People are watching,” I said through clenched teeth, and should not have been surprised when a low chuckle reverberated from him.
“Normally, I don’t give a fuck about that, but knowing that you are the center of the attraction kind of sets my blood boiling, you know?”
Heat crept up my neck and the core between my legs throbbed.
“If my father sees you here, he will—”
“Do nothing.” He leaned back on his seat, and we watched a few couples dancing on the floor. “He can do nothing.”
Silence settled between us, and it strangely brought back the memory of the night in the bedroom. When I’d watched him shrug his jeans off, not knowing what to say or do.
The throb intensified and I squeezed my legs shut to keep the thoughts at bay.
I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “You really do think you’re untouchable, don’t you?”
Fabric rustled on the chair when he shifted, propping an arm on the table. “About a month ago, I thought I was, until an Irish princess stabbed me in the knee with a syringe, right after she came on my finger,” he said and stroked the beard on his chin as he watched the dancing couples with an intensity that had no connection with the fascination of their moves.
“She touched me, won’t you say?”
I swallowed. He was bringing them back; the memories from that day in the office. The day I took advantage of his weakness and escaped.
I turned to face him, lips parted and words ready. But he beat me to it, holding me captive with his eyes while he spoke.
“It won’t happen again, Moy malen’kiy golub’. You won’t ever be able to escape me again.”
There it was the confirmation that this man held me captive even from miles away. My heartbeat sped up and I had to calm myself down before speaking.
“There will be no chasing or escaping again. You have no reason to continue with this. I am free, uncaged. My father owes you nothing. Why don’t you just move on?”
“I could ask you the same question, Ava…”
My heart dipped when my name rolled off his tongue seamlessly. It sounded like he called it with so much intentionality and precision.
“Why don’t you move on?”
I looked away before he could spot the wave of conflict in my eyes. But somehow, he managed to catch me red-handed.
“Tell me, why do you still nurse those dreams you have of me? Don’t deny it; I know you do. I know you think of me just as much as I think of you, and deep, deep down, you know the truth. You know that you can never be free of me.”
The pounding became louder and the noises in the background turned to a loud ringing in my ears. His shoulders puffed and his eyes hardened. I know my reaction had only boosted his confidence.
He knew he was right.
Before I could move, he moved his lips to my ears and whispered, “The next time we meet, you should ask me how I got the Varkov name. Trust me, Ava, I’m determined, I always get what I want. Always.”