Chapter Twenty #2
I grab my clutch and head out toward the foyer, only to run straight into Viktor.
He’s just heading out for his shift, but he stops dead in his tracks the second he sees me. He scans me up and down.
"To where?" he demands.
"A gala," I sigh.
A dark cloud instantly settles over his features. "Why am I just hearing about this now? Why wasn’t this on the security schedule?"
I roll my eyes, though I can't quite muster any real annoyance. Waking up wrapped in his arms this morning had been an unexpected cortisol lower; it has kept me feeling bizarrely relaxed all day. "Viktor, relax. I honestly forgot all about it until Sarah paged me three hours ago."
"Unacceptable," he growls, instantly slipping into a cranky mood. "I need to cancel my shift tonight. I'm coming with you."
"Hey," I step into his path, placing both of my hands against his jaw. "You can’t do that."
His eyes lock onto mine, still simmering with frustration.
"You are just starting out," I tell him softly. “If you start blowing off clients, you'll ruin the reputation you've worked like a horse to build. If a career man is what you want to be, you don't compromise on your shifts."
It’s the absolute truth, and if he’s determined to be my equal, I’m not going to spare him what I learned the hard way.
Viktor lets out a defeated curse under his breath, leaning his face into my palms.
"You look completely gorgeous," he mutters. "Men are going to be ogling you all night. And we still haven’t figured out who sent you that gun. How am I supposed to just let you walk out that door alone?"
"Shh," I murmur, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Compromise. I'll take whatever security detail you want."
He sighs, the rigid tension in his shoulders giving way a fraction.
"Marcus," he says firmly. "You'll take Marcus as your personal lead.”
I smile. Viktor and Marcus have developed a friendship. If Marcus is there, Viktor will actually be able to breathe.
"Fine," I agree, sliding my hands down to pat his chest. "Marcus is in charge.”
I turn to leave, but Viktor pulls me back into his chest so fast the silk of my dress hisses against his trousers.
His mouth slams down onto mine. My brain completely short-circuits.
This is the first time he has ever initiated a kiss, and it’s so good it leaves me practically cross-eyed.
Just as I start to melt into him, trying to deepen the kiss, I notice the specific movement of his mouth.
His tongue runs along my lips a bit too much, smearing and wiping at my lipstick.
When he finally breaks away, I realize exactly what he just did.
Possessive fucker. He didn't just want a kiss goodbye; he wanted to ruin my lipstick. I try to glare at him, but I can't even pretend to be mad. I literally littered his entire neck and jaw with hickeys to stake my claim yesterday.
"Don’t put it on so thick," Viktor says with satisfaction as he looks at my blurred lip line.
"You are unbelievable," I mumble, a breathless laugh escaping me as I step into the elevator.
Down in the garage, Marcus is already waiting by the car. But before he opens the door for me, I notice him and Viktor exchanging a few words. Viktor pats Marcus's shoulder. Marcus nods and walks over to me, opening the passenger side.
Marcus keeps an eye on the rearview mirror the entire drive. When we arrive, the paparazzi flashes are blinding, but Marcus and the security team escort me seamlessly into the ballroom.
I’m immediately sucked into the crowd, shaking hands and nodding politely at people. Eventually, I manage to slip away toward the terrace doors, where I spot Clara.
Clara is the daughter of the billionaire mogul who organized this entire trainwreck of an event. But unlike her insufferable father, Clara is actually likable.
"Valentina, thank God," Clara exhales, stepping away from a group of stiff-looking politicians to join me. "If I had to listen to any more of them pretending to be charitable, I was going to throw myself off the terrace."
"Likewise," I smile. "Your father really outdid himself with the hypocrisy tonight."
Clara laughs, but then she squints at me in the dim lighting of the terrace. "Wait a minute. Come here." She reaches out with a napkin and dabs at the corner of my upper lip, wiping away a smudge of red lipstick that I must have missed when I hastily reapplied it in the car.
Clara chuckles. "This is the first time I have ever seen you show up anywhere with even a single hair out of place. Who is he, Val?"
My cheeks burn with a rare hit of heat, but before I can answer, a familiar voice cuts through the air.
"Valentina. I thought that was you."
I turn to see Julian stepping onto the terrace.
He is my now ex-fuck-buddy—one of the grand total of three men I’ve ever let into my bed before Viktor.
Both of us always knew exactly what we were.
It was basically like a job. Professional and distant on the outside, and only unprofessional between the sheets. No strings or expectations.
"Julian," I acknowledge.
He presses a casual kiss on my cheek. But the second I feel it, an alarm bell goes off in my head.
I don’t know if Viktor might lose his shit if he saw another man's mouth anywhere near me. My body reacts on pure instinct as I pull away from him.
Julian blinks, slightly surprised by the distance from a woman who used to let him share her bed.
"You look stunning in red," Julian mutters, hooking his hands into his tuxedo pockets. "It's been a while since we've caught up."
"I've been busy, Julian," I say.
"You're always busy," Julian teases, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. His hand moves to rest against the small of my back—the exact spot he used to touch.
The second his palm makes contact with me, I pivot toward the terrace railing, the movement forcing his hand to drop into empty air.
"Yeah, it’s been hectic," I reply.
"Right," he murmurs, clearing his throat. "Well, maybe we could get out of here? Go have some fun?"
A booming voice calls out to Clara, who’s been watching the two of us with open curiosity. “Clara! Get inside. The senator wants a word with you.”
Clara groans, downs the rest of her drink in one impressive swallow, and then looks at me with puppy eyes. She didn’t like having her show interrupted.
Wish me luck, she mouths.
"Good luck," I murmur back as she reluctantly walks away, leaving me all alone with Julian.
Julian takes a step nearer, the scent of his expensive cologne drifting over me. It does absolutely nothing to my body.
"Seriously, Val," he says. "What are you doing tonight?"
"I'm heading straight home after this, Julian."
He looks at the foot of empty space I’ve forced between us with confusion. "Alone?"
"I'm... kind of seeing someone."
In the five years we knew each other, I had an unbreakable rule against relationships. So I understand his confusion.
But Julian doesn't push.
"Wow," he mutters, nodding his head. "Okay. Good for you. He’s a lucky guy."
Julian extends his hand toward me. I reach out and slide my hand into his, shaking it. I’m glad that the end of us is just as respectful as the entirety of our relationship had been.
Julian gently turns my hand over. He bows his head slightly and presses a kiss to the back of my knuckles.
"You'll always know where to find me if you ever need anything, Val," he says. "Business or otherwise."
I offer him a tight smile as I pull my hand back, Viktor flashing through my mind. I know Marcus reports everything back to him; I just hope he won’t get the wrong idea.