Chapter 8 #3
Nikolai's casual expression gradually tightened. He raised one sharp eyebrow slightly, surprise flashing undisguised in his eyes.
"I remember things fast, like a camera shutter." I shrugged, accepting his surprise without modesty. "Had it since I was a kid. Essential skill for a good writer."
Nikolai stared at me quietly. He said nothing, but I clearly saw an extremely faint yet charming curve form at the edge of his cold lips.
"Follow me." He turned and climbed the stairs.
He led me to a room at the deepest end of the second floor. He pushed open the door.
"This is your bedroom."
I followed him inside and gasped.
This wasn't a "bedroom"—this was a super-luxury suite three times bigger than my entire crappy apartment!
Huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the shimmering artificial lake.
The spacious private sitting room had soft shag carpet and a cream leather sofa set in the center.
Further in were a massive marble bathroom with wet-dry separation, a walk-in closet that could hold hundreds of haute couture pieces, and two independent bedrooms with perfect orientations.
Absolutely flawless. Rich people's world was so corrupt it made me want to cry.
But something Mary whispered earlier suddenly flashed through my mind. I turned and looked at Nikolai leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me. I cleared my throat and decided to test the edges of death.
"This room... is acceptable, I guess." I pursed my lips with fake reluctance.
"But when I write, I need absolute darkness, so tomorrow I need you to have someone replace all these curtains with top-grade blackout fabric.
Also, every morning I need a specific brand of pour-over coffee, so I need—right there in that corner—the latest Italian semi-automatic espresso machine. "
I watched his expression from the corner of my eye as I spoke.
Nikolai's expression didn't change. He just nodded blandly. "Fine. I'll have Sophia handle it."
He actually agreed?
My courage inflated like a balloon.
"And!" I stepped forward, pushing my luck. "The bedding has to be pure natural mulberry silk, champagne gold color. And my bathroom needs rose-scented bath salts stocked daily—I hate lavender. Also, that closet is too plain, I need—"
Before I could finish, Nikolai's tall frame suddenly closed in without warning. He appeared in front of me at a speed I couldn't react to.
That intensely oppressive masculine presence instantly enveloped me completely.
He extended his large, calloused hand and precisely pinched my slightly puffed cheek between his thumb and forefinger.
Not hard enough to hurt, but carrying an absolute warning and irresistible control.
"Mmph!" My lips puckered involuntarily as I stared wide-eyed at that cold, handsome face inches away.
"Aren't you asking for a bit too much, kitten?" He lowered his head slightly, dangerous playful fire dancing in those dark gray eyes, voice low as if scraping my eardrums. "I can satisfy all your demands. So what can you give me in return, my 'fiancée'?"
My heart skipped a huge beat. The heat on my cheeks shot up where his fingers touched. That leg-weakening atmosphere spread through the luxurious room again.
"Mmm... o-okay." I mumbled incoherently and backed away half a step, escaping his control.
Fine. Mary was right. He could communicate, but you couldn't actually yank the tiger's whiskers.
"Get settled in." Nikolai withdrew his hand, gave me one last careless glance, and turned toward the door. "Someone will fetch you for dinner. Don't go wandering my hallways."
With that, he strode out on his long legs.
Click. The heavy wooden door shut in front of me.
The room fell completely silent.
Like a rubber band stretched to its limit, I finally relaxed completely. I kicked off my heels and launched myself like a cannonball onto that absurdly huge, cloud-soft super bed, dignity be damned.
"Aaaaaahhhhh!"
I buried my face deep in the high-end down pillow that smelled faintly of sunshine and let out a prairie-dog-level internal scream.
Dear God! This was a palace! This kind of top-tier mansion that only exists in Hollywood movies and sappy TV dramas was now my free dorm for the next year! And I didn't even have to pay rent!
I rolled on the bed like a giant silkworm cocoon twice, then flipped onto my back.
I fished out my crumpled Moleskine notebook from my bag. I opened to a fresh page and looked at today's frantic, cramped notes—the cold mob boss, the mysterious study, absolute privilege, and that dangerous man who'd just pinched my cheek and made my heart race.
Every word was golden material for my next bestseller.
I looked and looked, and my mouth couldn't help curving up wildly. A feeling of unprecedented excitement mixed with adventure and thrill flowed through my blood.
Derek was a blind idiot. Gary was a worthless pig.
And I, Vivienne Cole, was about to embark on the craziest journey of my life in this Volkov estate full of blood, lies, and lethal temptation.
I closed my notebook, thinking happily: This life-or-death deal was absolutely worth it.
The next year was going to be very, very interesting.