chapter 4
Iselyn
I open my eyes, and they protest. I press them shut again, then open them slowly. My head throbs, my eyes ache. The headache is from those toxic chemicals I consumed yesterday; the eye pain is from something I did last night, something I’m not going to admit this morning.
People have last-night dirty secrets—sleeping with their nemesis, murdering someone. I have useless tears as my secrets.
I get out of bed and head to the bathroom.
My face is swollen and red, but cold water splashes will fix that.
I have some experience in this field. I used to look like this every morning for that one month.
Then I locked down my emotions, until they were forcibly freed yesterday.
I take a deep breath. I’m feeling better now. Mornings are always good.
I glance at my outfit. I’m wearing his T-shirt, which looks ugly on me, but I had no other option apart from sleeping naked. I check on my dress, which I washed yesterday. It’s still wet. I guess I have to look ugly for a few more hours.
Next, I check my underwear. It’s wet too. Not a big issue, I found a new set of boxer briefs in his wardrobe. They’re so comfortable they feel like shorts.
Yes, I invade his private space like I have a license to do that, but why not? He could break my heart, and I can’t even break into his closet when he’s the one who brought me here? Fuck that person who says it’s wrong.
I reach downstairs after freshening up and taking a long shower using his products.
Right now, I smell like I’ve bathed in him.
In short, I smell awful, the same level of awful I look now, wearing one of his dark blue shirts and my heels.
Thanks to my long hair, which covers my breasts, hiding the clear need for a bra.
He’s in the kitchen. I ignore him and make my way to the main door.
“I’ll drop you to your new apartment. Your phone and bag are on the table,” he says behind me.
I move to the dining table, pick up my phone and bag, and turn back.
“Did you not hear the first part of my sentence?”
“I decided to ignore it. I’m leaving,” I say, walking toward the door again without turning.
I grab the knob and pull it, but it doesn’t open like last night. I glance around for a button or something, but there’s nothing. I frown and turn to look at him. He’s placing food on plates with a smile.
I grit my teeth. “Open this door,” I say loudly, so it can reach him, the kitchen isn’t close to the door.
He picks up two plates and sets them on the dining table.
“First, eat,” he says.
I stomp toward him. “I’m not hungry. Open the door. I’m getting late for my seminar.”
He sits on a chair, relaxed, completely in a good mood. “If you finish early, you’ll be able to leave early.”
He starts eating his pasta. My mouth waters at the sight of the plate. I’ve only eaten a few strawberries since yesterday afternoon. I sit down on a chair and start eating. I’m only doing this because I don’t want this delicious-looking pasta to go to waste.
My eyes close at the first bite. No matter how bad this man is, he cooks well. Good food has always been my weakness. Nana Irina says it’s been this way since I was inside my mom.
After finishing my plate and drinking a gulp of water, I get up.
He has already finished his larger portion and has been watching me the whole time.
He also gets up and starts walking toward the door.
I follow him. He opens the door after pressing his thumb on the knob. I follow him out into the lift.
He leans against the elevator wall, watching me up and down, making my skin prickle with unease. How can he stare at me so openly, so shamelessly? Does he really believe he has that right?
“In Russia, if you look at a woman for more than five seconds, you go to jail.” I look at him. “I think there’s some law like that in America too.”
He smiles smugly, standing tall. “I don’t break laws, Angel. You know why?”
He steps closer. I move back, and soon enough I’m cornered again.
“Because I’m above them. The law closes its eyes when it sees me.” He bends in front of me. “Like a rabbit closes its eyes when it sees a tiger.”
“That’s pigeon and cat,” I mutter absently, already losing my grip on myself under his third-class seduction. I’m sure no one apart from me could find these meaningless actions of this man seductive. Blame last night’s drugs.
He clicks his tongue. “Nah, birds are Zo’s thing, not mine. I like rabbits more.” He twirls one of my curls between his fingers, letting it slide from my cheek down past my collarbone to the tip resting near my breast. “Small creatures with beautiful blue eyes.”
I gather my melting willpower and push him with my finger. “I’m not interested in knowing what animals you like or don’t like.”
I press the elevator’s open button. It has already landed in the parking lot somewhere between our discussion of pigeons and rabbits.
My phone rings in my hand. It’s my dad.
I pick it up and press it to my ear. “Hello, Papa.”
“Moya kroshka. How are you?”
“I’m fine, Papa.” Matleon opens the passenger-side door for me, and I slide inside the car.
“Have you reached your new apartment?” I wonder how much this Matleon has talked with my dad.
“No, Papa. We’re on our way now.”
“Alright. Do it quickly.”
“Okay. But I could move alone. We don’t have to bother Matleon.” I glance at him. He’s started the car.
“Let him come with you, little one. You don’t know much about that place. He is a reliable man.”
“Ty znayesh, ya ne lyublyu yego.”
(You know I don’t like him.)
“Don’t say such things in front of him when he’s helping you, Kroshka. He knows Russian,” Dad sighs.
I glance at Matleon. His face is hard. He doesn’t like it. Well, that’s his problem if he doesn’t like the truth.
“I don’t need his help. I don’t even need to move, to be honest.”
“You need to. And from now on, you’ll keep a security team with you, picked by Matleon.”
I frown. “Papa, why are you involving him so much in this?”
“You are in his territory. Last night, Kaz called him to send help, but he decided to look into this matter personally. He is a busy man, yet he’s still giving you his time, which means he cares for you.
And we don’t speak ill of people who care for us.
I know he’s not your favorite, but it’s important to be polite around him.
When you’re with a respectable man, showing him respect is the right thing to do. ”
“Okay, Papa,” I reply with pursed lips. I don’t know what he has said to my father for him to take so much of his side.
“Take care of yourself,” he says softly.
“Okay. Bye-bye. Love you.”
“Love you too, Kroshka.”
I cut the call. Silence falls inside the car, thick and uncomfortable.
We stay like that until we reach the university.
He pulls up in front of my hostel building.
I step out, and every student roaming around is staring in our direction.
For a moment, I think they’re in awe of the car. Then I turn my head.
Five black SUVs are lined up behind us. Men dressed in black are getting out of them. I sigh. How could I forget? This man is a big deal. He can’t go anywhere without a full security team. And he’s perfectly fine with the attention it brings.
I’m not.
I walk back toward him. “You can leave now. I don’t want you roaming around campus with this huge security team.”
He puts on his Clubmaster sunglasses and speaks in a calm, almost lazy voice. “One more time you say anything about me leaving before you shift to your new apartment, I’m going to lock you in my penthouse and end this research problem of yours.”
Then he starts walking.
I grab his arm around his thick, muscled bicep, I can’t even make it halfway around it. He stops.
I grit my teeth in a low voice. “Have you taken me for the kind of woman you can make dance on your finger? Let me break your delusion, I have a family who could fight you if you dare to harm me.”
He smiles. “Who told you I would harm you? That’s not in the plan. And about your family…” He takes my hand that’s holding his arm, transfers it to his other hand, and holds it firmly. “They will thank me for doing that.”
He starts walking again, taking me with him inside the hostel. I try to pull my hand back, and he tightens his grip. I curse under my breath but match his steps so onlookers don’t see that I’m being dragged.
As soon as we turn into the corridor leading to my room, I spot Dexter. He must be heading to the seminar I won’t be able to attend. I yank my hand hard from Matleon’s grip. This time, I successfully get it back.
Dexter looks between me and Leo. He is an Australian researcher who has come here for the same program. He is my age; we are both the youngest here. The reason I didn’t leave this program is him. He has come to work on developing medicine for a new type of blood cancer.
During the introduction day, he talked about his project.
I found it interesting and approached him.
Since then, we’ve been discussing his project a lot.
He is a very intelligent man, but he is entirely focused on finding a cure for that particular cancer.
I’ve put my own project on hold for now, investing my time in his work, because I have a feeling his project isn’t as random as mine.
His dedication gives a strong impression that he has a personal reason behind it, and besides, I’m not finding any help for my own project.
“Hey, Iselyn. Won’t you be coming to the seminar?” he asks.
I walk near him. “I won’t be able to come today.”
He nods. He doesn’t like talking much.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, a little jolted as Matleon suddenly holds my waist.
I glare at him after Dexter leaves, removing his hand from my body. His non-consensual touches are not good for my heart. It would burst from beating so loudly if this keeps happening.
I walk toward my room and open the door with my keys.