Chapter 21 - Diomid
Angelika is sitting on my lap in the front seat of the car. Dark, tinted windows hide us from anyone who might be watching, but I’m not really worried about that. The absolute chaos caused by the smoke bombs is still going on around the front of the building.
I honestly thought I’d lost her in there. I thought something had happened and I’d never see her again. I would never have forgiven myself.
Grabbing her tight, I hug her again, shaking my head, trying to push the horrible thoughts from my mind. She’s safe now, she’s right in your arms, she’s with you.
“Where is Oleg?” Angel asks, looking up at me.
“He has the girls; they’re bringing them out now.”
“But you’re missing out on that, don’t you want to go help him?” She knots her brows in concern.
“No, I want to be right here with you, princess. Nowhere else in the entire world.”
“I’m ok, Diomid, I promise you. You can go if you want to. I’ll wait here, I won’t move,” she reassures me.
I scoff. She doesn’t get it. I can’t leave her side. I can’t move away from her. She is my entire world, and she doesn’t even understand.
Movement draws my attention, and I look up to see Oleg jogging around the corner of the building with about seven women, protectively surrounded by our security team, headed for the van.
“Get them inside. Five in the van, the other two in the third car. Move. Let’s get the fuck out of this shit hole,” Oleg shouts, and his men split into two teams, some moving toward the van we came in, others toward the third card parked behind me.
Oleg jogs to my window and waits for me to roll it down.
“You guys good?” he asks, grinning from the hype.
“Yes, you?”
“Excellent. Fucking great,” he blurts out. “We blew out the doors on five store rooms. Only two of them were occupied. These were all the girls. I set up chargers in the venue. They’ll blow in ten, so we should leave, like now.”
He winks at Angel. “Well done, princess, that was impressive,” he says, calling her by the nickname that only I’m allowed to use on her.
“Alright, Rambo, move along. Let’s get going,” I say, closing my window on him. He’s laughing, high on adrenaline, as he runs toward the van.
I start the car and ease out of the parking area, watchful in case we’re being followed. But they have other things to worry about, including another fight that’s broken out in front of the venue after several cars crashed into each other in their rush to escape the smoke bombs.
Angel sits on her knees on the seat, facing backward, her eyes on the chaos.
“Sit down and buckle up,” I demand.
“Wait… I want to see when the explosions go off,” she says, holding onto the headrest.
“Angel, princess, I need you to sit down.”
“No, I want to see it,” she huffs.
I shake my head, grinning. She’s a firecracker all right.
Instead of turning left to head straight home, I turn right to drive up a small gravel road that leads to a quarry and a hill overlooking the warehouses.
I park in the dark, hidden from view, and switch off the engine.
“What are we doing?” she asks, sitting facing forward.
“Watching,” I say, gesturing toward the warehouses below us.
She bites her lip, smiling.
Angel reaches over and takes my hand in hers, pulling my hand onto her lap and leaning her head against my shoulder. Her body is shaking. I don’t think she even realizes how shaken she is. Adrenaline tends to mask many of the effects until much later.
I glance at my watch. “Any second now,” I say, threading my fingers tighter through hers.
The bombs aren’t massive. But they send a small shockwave through the night sky. An imploding woosh of air that seems to suck the sound away from us.
Angel’s eyes grow wide as two sides of the warehouse burst into flame, metal panels falling away from the main building, and a portion of the roof collapsing in.
A slow smile spreads over her lips, and she whispers, more to herself than to me, “That’ll teach you to hurt people.”
I let her watch for a few more minutes before I’m willing to risk sticking around any longer. I have a feeling she needs to see this through to the end. A sort of closure on the whole story. The final collapse was happening right in front of her eyes.
Then I start the car and drive off the back side of the quarry, and head toward my penthouse.
Before we reach home, Oleg messages to confirm the girls have been dropped off at our safe house with a medical team.
I pass the phone to Angelika so she can read the message too.
“What will happen to them now?” she asks.
“Tonight, they’ll get medical attention, and the team will help them contact their families.
If they don’t have family, maybe friends…
We’ll ensure it’s safe for them to return to their people and that no one will pursue them.
If they need help leaving the country, we’ll assist with their relocation.
Whatever they need, they’ll get. They’re safe now, princess. Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to you and your brother. I could never have done it without you,” she says, smiling softly.
“It was a team effort. Because we couldn’t have done it without you either.
I really don’t look good in a grey dress.
I couldn’t have pulled it off like you did,” I grin, eyeing her cleaner’s uniform.
She laughs loudly and scrunches her nose, shaking her head.
“You’re impossible,” she huffs, giggling.
***
As we park in the underground area beneath the penthouse building, Angelika tries to hide a massive yawn behind her delicate hand. Her eyes water as she takes in a long, slow breath.
“The adrenaline is wearing off now. Be prepared for a whole new level of exhaustion that you’ve never felt before. Your body was pumping pure cortisol for the past few hours, and now it’s done and you’re safe. You’ll need to rest,” I explain, pulling the door open for her and holding out my hand.
“A few hours? I think my body has been pumping cortisol since you told me about the auction at the bar. It’s been days, not hours.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. But it’s over now, princess, and you really are safe.”
She slips her hand into mine and we climb into the elevator. Exhausted, she leans against me as it carries us up to the penthouse.
Once we’re safely locked away inside my home, I run her a hot bubble bath and flick the kettle on to make tea.
When I walk into the bathroom to turn the water off, thinking it must be ready, she’s standing there, undressed, about to get in.
“Oh,” I stammer, quickly turning away.
“Oh, um, I was… I thought…”
“No, it’s fine, I tapped the bath for you, go ahead,” I laugh nervously.
Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Dammit. She’s so fucking perfect.
I hear splashing and a little sigh.
“Ok, you can turn around,” she says.
I hesitate before I do, wondering if I can control myself, knowing I have no choice.
Angelika is neck deep in bubbles. Only the delicate curve of her shoulders and collar bones is visible above the water. Steam curls from the bath up around her, and she smiles at me, tracing her fingers over the surface of the bubbles.
“Thank you, this is exactly what I needed. I didn’t realize how tense every muscle in my body was.”
“I’ll make you some tea and find some other clothes for you to wear when you get out,” I say, busying myself by scooping up the discarded cleaner’s uniform from the floor. It’s hard not to look at her. It’s hard not to lean over the bath and kiss her.
Her eyes follow me as I move around the bathroom, then toward the door. “Take as long as you want,” I call behind myself, then hurry away, before I end up doing something really stupid.
While Angelika is soaking in the bubble-filled tub, I grab a quick shower in the guest bathroom, change into my sweatpants, and carry a tray of tea and sweet snacks up to the bedroom.
She’s dressed in black sweatpants and a white crop top when I walk into the room.
Her wet hair is freshly washed and pulled up into a bun on top of her head.
I set the tray down.
“I still have the hair drier in the closet. Let me dry your hair for you?”
“It’s ok, it takes a long time…”
“Come on, sit. Let me do this,” I insist, grabbing the dryer from the cupboard, along with the brush she left here.
Angelika throws a pillow onto the floor next to the bed and sits on it, between my legs, with her back facing me.
I loosen her hair and gently brush it backward over my legs. Drying her hair takes a long time because it’s thick, long, and beautiful. But I savor every moment of it as we both sit in silence, just being together.
It feels more intimate than any moment I’ve experienced with someone before. Somehow, this simple task is more nerve-racking than kissing her. Or sleeping with her.
I brush her hair with long, slow strokes, following the nozzle of the blower with the brush until her hair is silky and dry. I run my fingers through it, and it shocks me all over again how beautifully smooth her hair is. Another part of her perfection.
“Done,” I say, flicking the dryer off.
Standing up, I lift her with me.
“Thank you, it feels so much better than wet hair,” she says, threading her fingers through her wavy hair and enjoying the smooth, silky strands as much as I did.
She yawns, her eyes still red from the smoke and tiredness.
I pull the duvet back from my bed. “Get in, drink your tea.”
She doesn’t even argue.
I slip beneath the covers next to her. Neither of us touches the tea or the snacks; instead, she wiggles closer to me, and I wrap my arms around her precious form. Holding her close, I listen to her breathing and feel her heart beat against my skin.
I want to whisper to her what she means to me, but she’s exhausted, fading into dreams.
My heart pulls tight in my chest when I think about her not being with me. I always want her with me. I don’t know how to forget about her or let her go. She’s meant to be in my life, and I have to find a way to make that happen.
I can tell when she’s asleep because her body relaxes, melting into a deeper state as it releases against me. Her tension dissipates. I clench my jaw and sigh.
Whispering against her hair, I utter a truth I desperately want her to know. “I love you, little princess.”
She stirs in her sleep and snuggles closer to me, mumbling incoherent words.
“Sleep, my angel, I’ve got you,” I say, kissing her head and closing my eyes.