Preston
I wake up and immediately sense something is wrong. And it's not just because the headache that ripped me from my sleep is so severe I feel nauseous. The warmth I was snuggling into is gone.
I flip over and pat cold sheets.
"Vadim!" I call out.
A wave of panic ripples through me. It's dark, and I can't see anything, but he's gone. Vadim isn't here. At least not in this room anyway.
I take a few deep breaths to calm myself down and massage my temples.
"It's okay. It's okay. You're okay," I tell myself, wanting desperately to believe it.
I sit up and press my feet flat to the floor, grounding myself. Okay, that's a bit better. I climb out of Vadim's bed and shuffle in the direction of the half-open door.
"Vadim!" I cry out, down the hallway.
No response.
Using the wall to guide me, I make my way into the kitchen. The lights above the island are on, a bright blur surrounded by darkness. I walk over to it and make out what looks like an open notepad. I squint, but there's no way I can read what's been written on the paper.
"Fuck!" I slam the notebook back onto the counter with a loud thud.
I head into the living room and fish around the coffee table for my phone. I'm about to use voice prompts to call the number Vadim gave me that goes straight to whoever is on patrol, guarding me at that moment, but put that idea on ice.
Stumbling back toward the hallway, I slide my palm against the walls and make it back to the bedroom.
Quickly, I throw on some clothes.
Once I'm dressed, I shuffle my way back to the kitchen and hold up my phone. "Hey, Siri, call Guard."
The call gets answered on the first ring. "Malik here."
"Hi, Malik," I say meekly. "Can you come in here, please? I need your help."
I hear the front door click open then heavy footsteps barreling over the tiles. "Everything alright, Mr. Miller?"
I point at the counter. "Can you read the note for me, please?"
He picks up the notepad. "Preston, a lead came up, and I had to go into the office. I will hopefully be back before you wake up, but in case I'm not, I didn't want you to worry. VIP."
Anger pummels into me, which is the last thing I need with this splitting headache.
Is he for real?
He promised me no distractions.
"Are you okay, Mr. Miller?"
"Can you please get me my headache pills from the bedroom?" I ask.
Malik strides across the kitchen to go and retrieve them, and as I wait, my fury only grows.
Vadim betrayed me.
He lied.
He said nothing would interrupt us, and lo and behold, something has. Something he should have let go of a long time ago.
That makes me even madder, that he's prioritized that Farkas asshole over our first night together. I get being stubborn, believe me. There's no one more stubborn than me. I'm not going to be a hypocrite and call him out for relentlessly pursuing something, even if I disagree with him about it.
But he made a promise…
Malik returns to the kitchen, runs the tap, then hands me the pills and a glass of water.
"Thank you." I throw two of them back.
"Is there anything else I can do?"
Pushing air out between my teeth, I say, "Yes. Take me to Vadim's office, please."
My anger only grows on the drive to the casino.
I can barely distinguish anything through the passenger window, so all that's left for me to do is stew in my feelings.
I appreciate Vadim's determination to keep me safe, but there's a line between dedication and obsession, and Vadim is on the wrong side of it.
Tonight was meant to be about us and nothing—and no one—else.
Once we arrive at the casino, Malik escorts me through the labyrinth of corridors reserved for staff. They're long, identical, and bathed in a harsh white light.
I'm forced to cover my eyes as we make our way through the maze. Thank god he knows where he's going.
When we arrive at the control room, he asks, "Would you like me to go in with you?"
"No. Thank you. Just wait out here, please. I won't be long."
"Of course."
He holds the door open for me, and when I step in, the first thing I'm hit with is the stale, dry smell of trapped air.
"Vadim? Are you in here?"
No answer, but as I walk past a row of empty desks facing a wall of black and white monitors, I notice something up ahead.
A figure.
Slumped over a desk.
I quicken my step toward it when a rancid smell suddenly hits me.
"What the fuck is that?"
I keep walking, closing in on the figure when I realize who it is.
"Oh my god, Vadim."
I rush over, hauling him back from the desk and onto the floor, going down with him, my knees hitting the carpet as I take his weight.
He's unresponsive, his head dangling from his neck like a ragdoll. There's a coffee mug beside his open laptop. That's where that horrible smell is coming from.
"Malik!" I scream.
The door flies open, and Malik charges in. "What's wrong?"
Clutching Vadim's limp body against me, I yell, "Vadim's been poisoned!"
Malik gets onto his radio and barks something out.
I start slapping Vadim's face, begging him to come around. "Come on, Vadim. Wake up, wake up, wake up."
Three armed guards rush into the control room. One of them pulls me off Vadim as another lifts him over his shoulder and carries him out.
"Where are you taking him?"
"To the hospital."
"Malik?" I call out.
He appears by my side. "Yes?"
I latch onto his forearm and say, "Take me to the hospital."