Chapter 5 - Marlen
Not that I would ever admit this out loud, but every night, come dinner time, it’s somehow become my favorite part of the day.
There is a strange mix of enjoyment and fascination I feel around Stefania.
I can’t, for the life of me, work out how she’s able to be so full of sunshine and joy when she’s trapped in what can only be described as a horrible situation.
She’s been kidnapped, held against her will. She should be miserable.
Yet night after night she sits opposite me, chatting away about books and places she wants to see in the world, things she wants to try, animals, and how fascinating they are.
She’s this endless source of light and intrigue, and I can’t see to get enough of her.
She’s trapped with me.
And I’ve been a complete asshole. Cold. Nasty. Short. Bitter. On the best of days, people have remarked that I come across as a really grumpy person. Only people who are very close to me see a different side of me.
Around her, I must be ten times worse because of the anger I harbor toward her family.
But it hasn’t stopped her from being herself.
How?
Why?
I don’t understand, but I… I really like it.
She sits in that chair, practically glowing.
Her smile is radiant, and it makes the cutest dimples in her cheeks when it gets wide enough.
Her eyes crinkle, and her face changes when she’s happy, and warmth pours from her like sunshine.
I’m drawn to her, almost craving that radiance when she’s not around.
“Marlen?”
“Huh?” I blurt out, realizing I was completely lost in thought about her again.
“Man, did you miss out on sleep last night or something? You’re distracted as hell,” Simon complains, tapping his fingers against the surface of his desk.
I’m sitting opposite him, staring blankly at the paperwork set in neat piles around him. I haven’t heard a word he’s been saying.
“No, just… my head is busy. There’s a lot going on at work. What did you say?” I ask, abrupt, agitated with myself, not with my brother. Why is she distracting me?
“It doesn’t matter, look, I’ll get straight to the point. I asked you to come meet with me for a very specific reason, and I know it’s a sore topic for you, but I need to bring it up,” he sighs, pushing his hand through his hair and scrunching his nose as he looks away from me.
I already know what the topic is. Talia. Our sister. He’s the only one of the brothers who stayed in touch with her after she betrayed us by marrying an Abashin. In some ways, it annoys me, but in other ways, I’m glad he still checks in on her to make sure she’s ok.
Letting out a gruff sigh, I raise my brows at him. “What is it?” I ask.
He cocks his head to the side as if to say, You know what it is.
“Talia,” I sigh.
He nods. “But it’s not about her specifically. I was talking to her last night, sorry man, I know you don’t like talking about her, uh, I was just catching up, and she let me know that her friend has been kidnapped.”
“Ok, what does this have to do with me? Why did that warrant a meeting?” I say, my stomach churning a bit.
I hate lying to my brother. Simon is a good man, one I trust with my life.
But what I can’t trust is that he won’t say anything to Talia.
That’s the only reason I can’t tell him about Stefania being back at my place.
He wouldn’t have any issues with the revenge plot.
I’m sure of that. But he would have issues with me messing with our sister’s friends and upsetting Talia.
And for that reason, there is a chance he would say something to Talia just to reassure her that Stefania was ok, making her promise not to say anything to anyone else. To ease her worry.
But she would say something. She’s married to an Abashin. She chose her side.
I can’t take that risk.
“The friend is Stefania Shevchenko. It warrants a meeting because… because she means a lot to Talia.” He looks at me with tension in his eyes. “Talia is really worried.”
“Ok?” I say, narrowing my gaze. “So she’s gone to a weekend party with some friends or something?”
“No, she’s been taken, they’re sure of it. She would never leave without telling someone. I just wanted to find out if you’d heard anything?” Simon sounds worried. I know it’s Talia’s worry that he’s reflecting.
“No man, I haven’t heard a thing, but if I do, I’ll let you know,” I shrug. “Do they have any leads or any ideas of who might’ve taken her?” I ask, fishing for information because I want to know if they’re on to us.
“Nothing solid, but they’re looking into one of the families that runs the North East territories.”
“That’s a nasty bunch of people out there,” I say sternly.
“I know,” he nods. “They’re really concerned about whether or not she’s even still alive. You know those people. You know what they’re capable of. And no one has made any demands or asked for ransom, nothing,“ he says tightly.
I press my lips together. “They shouldn’t give up on her so easily. They should keep looking, especially if she’s out that way.”
I want their misery to draw out longer.
A pang of guilt slips between my ribs and into my heart, sending a sharp, unexpected pain through my chest. I groan, confused. Why the hell would I be guilty about what I’m doing to them? It’s what I want. I want them to suffer.
It’s not guilt for them. It’s for her.
I shake my head and furrow my brows.
“You ok?” Simon asks.
“Yes, totally fine, like I said, I’m tired. A lot going on at work. Let me know if you hear anything about the missing girl, and I’ll keep my ear to the ground and do the same for you.”
“Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I know she’s not exactly a concern of yours,” Simon says.
I wave my hand in the air to dismiss him. “I’m not doing it for her,” I remark.
This brings a smile to his face because he assumes I’m doing it for Talia.
“I’ve got to get going,” I say, standing up and gathering my things from his desk. He stands too and walks me to his office door.
“Thanks for coming,” Simon says. “And try to get some sleep, man, you are so distracted today.”
I throw him a weary smile. “I plan to head straight home and get an early night.”
I have no such plans at all. What I’m really looking forward to is getting him and having dinner with Stefania.
I should arrive on time. The chef has been preparing meals, and instead of leaving hers in the kitchen like before, I’ve told him to set the table for both of us.
It’s strange how quickly these little rituals develop. And how quickly we become dependent on them.
Dependent? No, I’m not dependent on anyone.
I simply enjoy the company. Nothing more.
It’s something to keep my mind busy.
In fact, it’s not even the company. It’s just entertainment.
She’s my prisoner, and she’s a Shevchenko. An enemy.
***
When I walk into the mansion, I can smell roast vegetables and the thick, creamy aroma of mushroom sauce. There is already an air of eager anticipation as I step into the dining room, expecting to find her sitting there.
The table is set, the food is laid out, but she isn’t here.
I can see steam rising from the roast, so it can’t have been set too long ago, but where the hell is Stefania?
She’s escaped! No, calm down, she’s just not down yet.
My heart sinks into the depths of my stomach, and anger bolts like lightning through my body. I dart upstairs, running to her room, only to find it empty.
The anger grows darker as I check the library and the kitchen and find both empty.
She’s escaped!
I storm through the living room toward the open patio doors, only to find the guards who have clearly failed at their job.
But I come to a sudden stop.
Ahead of me, splashing happily in the swimming pool, is Stefania.
She hasn’t seen me and is lost in her ignorant bliss, enjoying the heated water beneath a pink and purple sunset. I can’t take my eyes off her as she wades back and forth, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.
But when she floats onto her back, my entire body sparks to life like I’ve been shocked with an electric current strong enough to down an ox.
She’s wearing white underwear. Completely transparent now that it’s wet, and I can see the dark shape of her nipples pressing against the sheer fabric. My cock stirs, growing harder.
I swallow hard and try to drag my eyes away from her gorgeous body, but I can’t.
“Marlen, you’re home,” she says happily, spotting me standing on the patio steps.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I snarl instantly, furious that she would put me in this position.
“I… I was swimming. Is that a crime?” she asks, sounding hurt.
“You’re wearing your underwear! It’s not covering a damn thing!”
To my horror, Stefania climbs out of the water and marches right toward me to stand in front of me and glare at me. Her eyes are dark with anger.
I open my mouth and close it again, like a fish, gaping without knowing what the hell I want to say because all I can do is stare at how fucking gorgeous she is.
“Unfortunately, I got kidnapped and didn’t have time to pack my swimsuit.
So, you’ll have to forgive me for being a prisoner in this place and not having anything else to swim in!
” she shouts at me, then reaches around me, her body brushing against mine, leaving wet marks against my shirt as she reaches for a towel hanging over the patio chair.
I’m frozen in place, grimacing at her, my face is pulled tight, and my fists are clenched at my side.
Stefania wraps the towel around her body, and with one last stabbing glare, she turns away from me and storms into the house.
A low huff of air escapes me, and I realize I was holding my breath. Pushing my fingers through my hair, I let out a low growl of agitation and glance over my shoulder toward the house, half hoping to catch another glimpse of her, but knowing she’s long gone.
My body is humming with desire. The sight of her lighting me up like a firecracker.
I shouldn’t have snapped at her like that. It’s not her fault she doesn’t have a swimsuit. But I was caught off guard, and I don’t particularly like my reaction to seeing her mostly naked, absolutely perfect body.
Heading back inside, I sit at the dining room table and start eating alone. Somewhere deep inside me, I’m hoping she’ll come down to eat with me, but she doesn’t.
After I’m done, and it’s clear she’s not joining me, I dish up a plate of food for her and carry it up to her room.
The door is closed, so I knock lightly.
There is no reply from inside.
“Stefania,” I say gruffly.
“Go away,” she snaps back.
“I brought you some dinner.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You are going to eat, girl!” I snap, agitated that she isn’t being cooperative.
“What are you going to do? Force feed me?” she sasses, bringing a half smile to my face as I realize I’m enjoying this ridiculous banter.
“I might. Open the door and find out for yourself,” I dare her.
I wrap my fingers around the door handle and turn it. It’s not locked. But before I can push it open, she squeals, “No, I’m changing!”
Half of me instantly wants to push the door all the way open, and the other half scolds me for thinking with my dick instead of my brain.
I step away from the door, releasing the handle.
“Your food is on the floor outside your door,” I snap, angry again.
Walking away, toward my own room, I hear her door open and glance back to see her hand come out to grab the food before she closes the door again. At least she’s going to eat something tonight. I don’t have to feel bad about her starving.
Not that I should feel bad about anything. She’s my prisoner, not my guest.
Still, as I go through my evening routine—showering and getting into comfortable clothes—I’m constantly thinking about her and how I handled the swimming situation.
She looked so happy in the pool, like she was having fun.
I ruined it. I ruined dinner too, which spoiled things for me.
Eating alone, something I’ve done for years without issues, suddenly seems so dreary and empty.
I guess I can figure out a way to say sorry without actually saying it, so that she comes back to join me at dinner time.
Lying in bed, I close my eyes, and all I can see is her perfect body as she stands dripping in front of me in her sheer white underwear. Her eyes are fierce, and all I want to do is kiss her perfect, cupid-bow-shaped lips.
My cock has a mind of its own tonight, and it’s making it impossible to fall asleep.
I groan, tossing and turning for hours before I manage to drift off.