Chapter 32
ELIZABETH
I freshen up just enough to not look so deathly. It feels like our cosy, soft, private bubble has been punctured by Vlad's arrival.
He's always been protective, but when I told him I was bringing someone, I didn't expect him to turn into my bodyguard and turn up on our doorstep within an hour of landing.
He's not as tall as Matteo, a few inches under six foot, but formidable, with his stocky build. At first sight he can come across as scary with his dark hair, and light stubble, though there are more grey hairs now. His eyes are sharp, constantly shifting without giving anything away.
Even I was a little daunted when I first saw him, having only spoken to him via the forum. I'd never seen what he looked like because his avatar was just the letters ‘VV’ on a black background.
Butterflies skitter in my stomach as I make my way to the bar.
This is the most opulent hotel I've ever been to and when I catch sight of a couple coming out, my anxiety spikes.
The man is white-haired and distinguished looking, the woman young enough to be his daughter, only she isn't, judging by the way they're holding hands.
Looking at her short cocktail dress, and big, shiny jewelry, I’m suddenly worried that I might get turned away for being too underdressed.
I hear music playing, just as I walk in. Floor-to-ceiling windows abound here also, overlooking the Adriatic. Amber sconces adorn the walls, and small shimmering chandeliers glitter above my head. This is the glitziest bar I've ever been to.
Vlad sits directly in the center of the windows, staring out. One arm resting casually on the dark velvet armrest of his chair.
My nerves jangle, and I try to calm myself, for his questions. That protective streak in him is always there. He'll want the low down on Matteo, but I'm not keen to give it.
He raises his hand to summon a waiter, and sees me, then gets up and walks towards me, moving with the same controlled confidence I've always known him to have.
He reminds me of Matteo, I think suddenly. Matteo has that same easy manner of moving, while also being a little aloof.
Vlad wraps his arms around me and hugs me. “Mala. It's been too long.” He kisses the top of my head, and I breathe in his slightly overpowering scent. He pulls away, but his hands bracket my arms.
“Good to see you, mala. It means a lot to me that you came.”
I give a nervous smile. “I wouldn't have missed it for the world.” I’m not usually nervous around him, but being here with Matteo has me acting differently.
We walk to the table, and I sit across from him.
A server appears. “Sir?”
“Get me another bottle of water,” Vlad says, then turns to me. He doesn’t drink. Never has.
“I’ll have an orange juice, please,” I say, feeling guilty about wanting something alcoholic, even though I could really do with a drink to take the edge off.
“It’s been three years. I am so happy to see you again.”
“Same. You seem ... well,” I say, carefully choosing my words. “The chauffeur, then the beautiful suite. This hotel. Thank you for putting us up, but you really didn't have to.”
“Is it to your liking?”
I almost choke at that. “It's the most expensive place I've ever stayed in. How can you afford this?”
How can he afford this? We'd been the outsiders. The ones fighting the system. Now he's sending chauffeurs to collect guests from airports and paying for suites that cost more per night than my monthly rent.
I don't understand it.
He's never told me what he's been up to since he left the country, and I don't ask, but surely, now that I've seen this, he must know I have questions. Surely he knows I've noticed the change.
“How, Vlad?” I push, when he doesn’t answer.
He shrugs, leaving me none the wiser, and even more curious.
I force a chuckle. “If I'd known you were booking this, I would’ve told you no.”
“You're worth it. I won’t have you staying anywhere else.”
I hesitate, wondering if I should keep pushing, because he looks so good. I’ve noticed the expensive watch and the tailored suit. He watches me closely, mouth firmly closed, like he's holding himself back from saying too much.
“Thank you, again, but it's too much, Vlad, Really, it is. You didn't need to—”
“Enough, Elizabeth.”
I blink, because his voice is sharp enough to startle me.
“I did this because I can. Because I want you to be safe and happy, and because you deserve nice things. I am happy that you came.”
“O-okay, then. Thank you,” I say, and decide to keep quiet about it.
“And please, stop thanking me.”
“Ok-aaaaay.”
“It’s going to be a lavish wedding, isn’t it?” I look around the large open room. Couples sit across from one another and at the bar, a group of women chatter excitedly.
“It’s going to be a small wedding. About fifty people, at most. A few from the old group are coming.”
The old group. The coders. The hackers. “Who?” My insides fill with dread, but just then a server appears with our drinks.
“Can I get you something to eat?” Vlad asks.
I take my glass of orange juice. “No thanks. This is enough.” It's interesting that he hasn't mentioned Matteo yet.
He opens the small bottle of water and pours it into his glass.
I raise my glass. “Congratulations, Vlad. I’m so happy for you.”
He lifts his. “Thank you.”
I take a sip before setting my glass down. “I know nothing about Valentina. I've never even met her—”
“You will. We’re having a small dinner for a few friends tonight. You must come.”
I open my mouth, trying to remember if he told me about this.
“We only decided yesterday, when Valentina said she hadn't met any of my friends.”
I relax, because this late notice gives me an excuse not to go.
“You can bring your friend along,” he adds.
He finally mentions Matteo, but he can't bring himself to say his name. “I'll see what Matteo wants to do.”
He sits back, watching me. “Does he decide for you?”
“No.” I try to read his expression, because something tells me he knows more than he's letting on.
“Tell me how this happened, because I never expected that Matteo Knight would be your plus one.”
The emphasis on Knight knocks the air out of my lungs. I never told him Matteo's surname. “H-how do you know he’s a Knight?”
He pauses, almost like he's wondering how to phrase his answer. “I can gain access to any information I need.”
The hairs on the back of my neck shoot up. “Why did you need to access that?”
Another pause. My insides roil. He's changed. This no longer feels about him being protective of me. It feels somehow different. Like he’s different.
“Because I care about you, Elizabeth, and I need to know that you’re okay.”
I snort in disbelief. “You want to know that I'm okay? Who do you think I’m coming to your wedding with, a serial killer?”
“I had to know, and you weren’t giving me much info on him.”
Little does he know that Matteo said the same thing to me about him.
“But why do you need to know?”
“I already told you, mala, I’m simply looking out for you.”
That doesn’t make any sense.
“That's not looking out for me, Vlad. That's spying. Stalking, even.”
Which is what Matteo said.
I think about how I left him in the hotel suite, sitting on the couch watching TV, all alone. And this after a nightmare flight. This trip hasn't started well for him, and here I am, sitting in a fancy bar talking to Vlad.
I'm starting to think that maybe I shouldn’t have asked Matteo to come with me. But now I’m starting to think that Matteo isn't the problem. Listening to Vlad tell me he already knows about Matteo, and him turning up at our suite unexpectedly makes me suspicious.
He’s helped me and protected me in the past, but this time he seems different, and I'm more uneasy than ever because I don’t know what his line of work is.
Yet, it's his wedding, and no matter how things seem to be. I just have to put on a brave face.
I try to poke a little. “What are you doing now? You're obviously doing very well.”
He leans forward and, using his finger, wipes away a line of condensation from the bottle of water.
I start to think he hasn't heard me. “Vlad? What are you up to these days?”
He stops and glances at me. “This and that.”
Talk about being completely evasive. It’s unfair, given that he knows so much about me.
“What exactly?” I push, refusing to give in.
“I help people avoid very expensive mistakes.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’re getting, mala.”
He’s talking in riddles, like he sometimes used to. It’s infuriating to pin him down. Impossible to get answers from. And yet he’s also morally principled—or used to be—which adds a layer of nuance that makes it difficult to figure out his motivations.
I recall how we met, online at first. How I lurked on a computer forum and posted a solution to a problem I'd been working on. A piece of code that exposed a flaw other people had missed.
A few hours later, I got a private message. I didn't know it at the time, but it was Vlad. He told me my solution was clever. Asked where I'd learned to code.
Nobody had ever called me clever before.
Nobody had ever looked at something I'd built and seen value in it.
We talked online more after that. Then more still. Looking back, I think he recognized something in me long before I recognized it in myself.
I was careful online. I'd encountered enough creeps, scammers, and people pretending to be something they weren't to know better than to trust anyone blindly. Especially as a young woman.
He lived somewhere in the States back then. He never gave away much personal information, but over time he told me about a small group he'd built. Talented people who were interested in coding, cybersecurity, and finding vulnerabilities that others missed.
“Still as mysterious as ever,” I murmur, taking a sip of my juice.
“My little sister has all grown up,” he says. “Running her own cybersecurity firm. How’s that working out?”
“It’s early days,” I say, because I’d rather not delve deeper into it.