10. Elena
ELENA
I kept my eyes closed after Adrik pulled away. His warm breath hit my lips, so wet and swollen from his eyes.
My heart thundered so fast in my chest, but it wasn’t fear. It wasn’t a panic attack that something bad was due to happen.
Instead, for the first time in my life, I felt the giddiness of something good . The excitement of something thrilling and delicious.
Shock faded as I felt the intensity of his stare on my face.
I didn’t know if he was looking at me since I had my eyes closed.
But I felt it. I felt so much of him—that tantalizing body heat that seeped into me, the rough hardness of his muscled chest flush to mine and making me feel so small and dainty, the possessive grip of his hand on my face as he cupped it yet, and the burn of his attention.
As I slowly lifted my lids, embarrassed to be in such a daze from one kiss from him, I witnessed it all.
The hungry yearning in his intense stare.
The need that was etched into the furrow of his brow.
The impatience and frustration of not having what he wanted.
It mixed into a confusing blend of emotions I couldn’t begin to decipher.
Why?
What just happened?
Why on earth… would he want me ?
What got us to this point?
Me?
And him?
How…
I would be left lingering with all those questions.
He was leaving me with all those bombarding thoughts.
Because too soon, he backed away, taking all that delicious body heat and backing up, out of reach.
His hand fell from my face and he put a couple of feet between us at the increasing volume of his brothers and cousins in the large foyer space downstairs.
He turned to focus on their approach as they called for him.
“No, I haven’t forgotten about our plans, Alexei,” he yelled out in reply.
I think I’ve forgotten my name.
One kiss. It rocked me to my core, yet here he was, acting like it was nothing now.
“I’ll be ready for the meeting. Perhaps you can walk Elena to the guest house.”
I ducked my head, wishing I could hide what had to be an instant frown on my face. I wished I could duck further down and let a hole in the floor swallow me up, too.
Disappointed that he could swing between confessing his need to kiss me and the knee-jerk reaction of regretting it, I licked my lips and tried to keep it together.
It was just that I’d never been kissed.
Never been held.
I was twenty-six, still a virgin, and so starved for approval and love that I was doomed to never get either, not really.
After this sexy, rugged Mafia boss kissed me, I should’ve been celebrating and pumping my fist with the revelation of how it felt to be wanted.
But as Alexei showed up and looked at us, he arched a brow. “I can escort her.”
“Fine.” Adrik brushed past him and exited the room without another look back. Without a single word.
Oh, my God.
Am I that terrible?
Is it such a turnoff that he has to practically run from me?
“Everything all right?” Alexei asked. He didn’t sound concerned, just curious.
“Yes, Mr. Volkov.” He would never lighten up enough to let me refer to him by name. I clung to the strap of my tote bag and exited the room, keeping my head down.
We didn’t speak the entire way to the guest house, and for once, I was glad for the silence. It was nice and quiet on the short walk while it was loud and chaotic in my head.
He had to ruin it, though, asking at the door once more, “Are you sure everything is all right?”
“Yes. Of course,” I lied.
Once I was in the house, I slumped against the door and slid down it with my back braced on the surface. Seated on the floor, I closed my eyes tight.
I couldn’t believe I’d done that. I struggled to comprehend how I’d not only let him kiss me but also kissed him back. My boss. The man who bought me as a payment for sin.
And the way he’d looked at me afterward? Now, I got it. Now, I understood. He hadn’t been looking at me with barely controlled lust. He’d viewed me with a scowl of regret. His action of foisting me onto his cousin’s watch proved it.
All night, I wore myself ragged with second thoughts and cringing whimpers. I replayed how perfectly hot it was. Then I remembered the annoyance on his face afterward. I relived the suspense of him leaning down toward me. And then I recalled the aching need for more.
In the morning, there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about the dark circles under my eyes or the general fatigue that blanketed me.
I’d tossed and turned all night, having the worst night of “sleep” since I’d arrived.
From erotic dreams he starred in to nightmares where I was kicked out of this residence, I couldn’t relax enough to truly rest at all.
But when I walked over to the large house where I could work in the office he’d set up for me and the other visiting bookkeepers, I realized with a heavy heart that it didn’t matter.
That one kiss with Adrik Volkov had left me curious and desperate for more. On the tail of that admission and piece of self-reflection was confusion.
How could I possibly want him? Sure, he was attractive, so fine it wasn’t fair at all.
But he was a Mafia boss. He represented a criminal organization.
Just before he’d kissed me, he’d put me on the spot with a reminder of it.
He’d asked if I realized the accounts I oversaw pertained to illegal matters.
Of course, I knew that. I stood by my plea that he spare me the details.
I didn’t want to or need to know if one payment for thousands of dollars was the cost of an arranged murder of someone.
I didn’t wish to know if another invoice that was sent to a shell company stood for the payment of trafficked women.
Oh, God.
I cringed again. I didn’t approve of any illegal business matters, but I wasn’t stupid enough to think anything was on the up and up here.
With the large amounts of money we were talking about, it had to be something bad.
Money made the world go round, and not always according to the confines of the legal system.
Keeping myself in the dark was the only way I could stomach it.
But when I’d told him that I didn’t want to “damage” anything or screw up, I meant that in the simplest way.
I wanted to do as I was told so they wouldn’t kill me.
After that kiss, though, it seemed odd to still harbor that thought in the back of my mind.
He can’t want to kill me if he wants to kiss me, right?
Wait. Scratch that. He wanted to kiss me. He no longer does.
It set the mood for my entering the office. He came in and out of the room, busy on his phone and not directly paying attention to me as I logged onto my computer to begin my “job”.
Any time he came through the room, I couldn’t help but revert into this shyness. I was wholly unsure about how to react around him after that kiss.
Don’t even think about it.
Don’t think about him.
Focus on the books and just do what you have to do.
Oddly, there were more and more issues with the spreadsheets and files this morning. As it happened every other day that I worked here, I was bogged down with the curiosity of what my father was doing. Or who was doing all this accounting work in my absence.
Throughout the day, I caught glimpses of Adrik in the house. I overheard his loud and gruff voice as he took one call after another.
My confusion stayed constant, but as I pegged where he was and how much he tried to multitask all the burdens only a leader of an organization would face, I loathed the complication in my heart.
It was much more difficult to uphold this hatred for him when I was reluctantly empathetic with how stressed he was.
That man would always be a high-strung, overworked leader. Being gruff and cold just went with the job description, I supposed. But each time I tried to make up excuses for his personality, I chased away the yearning I wasn’t supposed to feel for him.
“Elena.”
I jolted at his voice as he paused at the doorway.
I turned, facing him. “Yes, sir?”
He opened his mouth but furrowed his brow before speaking. “You went from Adrik to Mr. Volkov to sir ?”
My stomach tensed. Oh, dammit. Why did I keep screwing this up?
“I’m not sure what you want me to call you,” I admitted.
And I’m even less sure how to act around you after the kiss that we’re clearly going to pretend didn’t happen.
“You can call me your dinner companion. Come on.”
I gaped at him. “What?”
“Come on.” He beckoned me with his hand.
“D-Dinner?” I frantically tried to figure this development out.
“Yes. As in the meal that occurs at this time of the evening. I don’t want to eat alone, so come on.”
An order was an order, and I knew better than to ever leave anyone hanging. I shot to my feet, only reaching back to log out of the computer. It was just about time to quit for the day, but I’d lost track of time.
He waited for me at the door, and I prayed that he didn’t expect me to talk.
Silence was the style he chose, though, leading me down the stairs and to the dining room.
Plates of food were already set out for one.
A few bites had been taken from his dish, and I realized that he’d already been in here to dine alone when he reconsidered.
So you don’t want to eat dinner with me , you just don’t want to eat alone.
That made it worse. Like I was literally a thing to plug into place for a strict purpose. Here, I supposed I was filling space.
A maid brought out more dishes for me, but when another one poured a glass of wine for me, he spoke up. “She doesn’t drink.”
I raised my brows, surprised he remembered that I’d mentioned that.
He pointed at the salad, too. “And she’s allergic to eggs. So take that back and bring her another, please.”
He recalled that detail as well. I frowned and tried not to read too far into it.
Dutifully doing as I was told, I began to eat. The silence should’ve been unnerving, especially after we’d kissed, but the more I reminded myself that it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, I could focus on chewing and swallowing without the risk of choking.
After a while, though, the lack of communication tripped me into such an uncomfortable state of anxiousness that I couldn’t stand it. “Bad day?” I guessed.
Part of me feared he’d snap at me for asking a question. One was too many.
Another part of me feared he’d ignore me completely, which would break my spirit.
Why is it so hard to be liked?
To be treated as someone worthy of respect and consideration?
Why am I never good enough?
“Yes,” he bit out as a reply. “A bad day.”
I was stunned that he’d answered.
One question is too many. I wouldn’t dare to push my luck. Yet, I slipped again and spoke up. “Sorry.”
He let out a rough exhale, like I’d pissed him off.
See. Why can’t you learn? One question is one too many for him. Just shut up. He told you to eat with him, not talk.
“My father’s health is deteriorating.”
I let my fork fall to the plate as I whipped my head up to face him. “Oh, Adrik. I’m so sorry to hear that.”
He shot me a smirk. “Oh, you are?”
I frowned. He didn’t have to be so testy with me and doubt what I said.
“You’re sorry to hear that my father is unwell, huh? Why, because you have such a great father yourself and know how hard it is to lose one?” He shook his head and didn't look at me.
“No.” I watched him, hating how stressed he was. Like a wounded bear, a troubled giant. “I have the worst father in the world, if you want my honest opinion. But I do know how hard it is to lose a parent.”
He glanced at me, and it was such a fleeting look, I couldn’t understand what it meant.
“My mother got an infection when I was still a little girl. It happened so swiftly. She was healthy and fine one day, and then the next, we were told she had hours, perhaps days, to live.”
He kept eating, not looking up. I couldn’t let that be the end of it, though.
“So, yes, I do sympathize with the stress and hardship of what you must be going through.”
“Sure, you are,” he replied tersely.
It was impossible to miss the mocking tone of his response. Like it was silly of me to share anything personal about my life to show that I understood firsthand what he was going through.
He didn’t speak again, eating and scowling, not making eye contact again.
With the icy barrier between us—a confusing change since he’d requested that I eat with him in the first place—I kept my head down and ate what I could.
Nothing tasted good. All the flavors were too bland.
Because with how he’d treated me in this conversation, I knew that I’d forgotten my place. Again.
I wasn’t here as a friend to hear him out on his worries.
I wasn’t here as a lover for him to gaze at with desire flashing in his eyes.
I was just a thing to own. A debt collected from my father’s mistake.
Finished with my lost appetite, I set my napkin over my plate to signal I was done with this quiet and awkward meal.
I felt humiliated with how he’d cut me down like that, like my past was insignificant to share in a hope of making him feel not alone in his woes.
But most of all, I hated that I could still cling to the idiotic fantasy of having something more than a kiss with him.
Keep dreaming, El. Keep. Dreaming.