24. Vlad
24
VLAD
I 'm having problems concentrating throughout the day, my thoughts drifting back to Sisi. I'd managed to get her home before noon, and luckily no one had realized she was not in her room. She'd proceeded to tell me that Marcello and Catalina had been giving her a wide berth since they think she's having a hard time accommodating to life outside Sacre Coeur, so they've mostly left her to her own devices.
While her explanation had been satisfactory, I couldn't help but notice that she'd become slightly closed off, not meeting my eyes and not even offering to kiss me when I'd dropped her off.
She'd just looked at me blankly and said her goodbye, effectively kicking me out.
Did I do something?
I've been racking my brain the entire day, thinking that maybe I'd offended her somehow. I'd gone through every single interaction, cataloguing my replies and her reactions, and I'd found all to be satisfactory. Why, I'd made her come at least four times, and she'd looked perfectly sated.
Until she suddenly wasn't...
Maybe it's because I told her I'd get her home? Did she want to sleep with me in my bed? But she'd been the one to want to get home before anyone noticed her absence, so I really don't understand what I could have done to make her behave like this.
Sighing deeply, I close my computer and massage my temples. Since I'm unable to get any work done today, I might as well focus my efforts elsewhere.
A while later, I find myself at Marcello's house, paying him a short visit. He certainly seems surprised to see me, as he narrows his eyes at me, reluctantly inviting me into his office.
Ah, but I know exactly why he's giving me such a warm welcome. He thinks I'm a danger in his house, especially now that he has something to lose.
"Stop worrying that pretty head of yours," I drawl as I take a seat, "I'm not going to go on a killing spree anytime soon."
"Better safe than sorry," he mutters under his breath, and I roll my eyes.
"Marcello, Marcello, you wouldn't say we've been friends for more than two decades," I tsk at him.
"Friends?" He scoffs at me. "Is that what you call friends? Oh, sorry, you don't have any."
"Ah, 'cello," I bring my hand to my heart, "you wound me. You know how popular I am. I have to fend off wannabe friends with the end of my knife." I smile, and I notice his lips curling up too.
"And that's exactly why you have none. They all end up dead."
"Enough of that." I wave my hand. "I didn't come here to squabble with you, no matter how fun it might be," I add, seeing his face relax slightly.
Marcello hasn't been the same in the last decade, and it might be odd, but sometimes I miss our times together in the past.
"What did you come here for? Do you have more information on the shipment?"
Some time back we'd both suffered some losses when some unknown culprit had decided to be smart and attack our shipments. Although I'd been rather angry that someone had dared that, and thereby ruining my mood, I'd quickly pushed it out of my mind since I had more important things to take care of. Marcello, though, is perpetually on guard since he thinks someone is targeting him and his wife.
"I might," I smirk, "but I'll need something from you," I add.
He regards me suspiciously, as he always does, even though over the years he's asked for my help on numerous occasions. For all his efforts to lead a life away from crime, he'd always find his way back to me, asking me to break the law for him.
"What is it?" he asks tersely.
"Nothing too much, old pal, I'm not about to ask for your firstborn," I watch his features draw up in pain, "but maybe I'll settle for your sister. She's quite a looker," I add, wanting to rile him a little.
"Stay away from my sister." He grits his teeth. "I mean it, Vlad. You don't go near Venezia or Assisi, or we'll have problems."
"Wow, big bro making an appearance. A little too late, don't you think?"
"Vlad." His nostrils flare, and I can tell I'm one step from going too far.
But who am I to resist?
"Marcello, really," I groan, "imagine us being a big happy family," I continue, but one look at Marcello's expression and I know I've taken it slightly too far.
"I'm serious, Vlad. Stay away from my sisters, or God help me, I will kill you." He clenches his jaw.
"You and your God," I sigh, resisting the urge to tell him his sister calls me her God. "Fine, I'll drop it. For now." I give him a smile, even though this just confirmed what I thought.
Marcello would never let me near Sisi. And that makes things a little complicated. Especially since I plan on tying her to me—one way or another. Alas, if I have to make another enemy in the interim, then so be it.
"Do you still have Valentino's things?" I finally get to the reason I'm here.
"What do you need?" He frowns.
"You may remember that twenty-something years ago Valentino was looking into a human trafficking ring when they came across me, or rather what was left of me." I give him a rueful smile. "I want to know if he had more information about that ring, and about a Project Humanitas."
"Project Humanitas?" He raises an eyebrow at me, getting up and heading to his file cabinet. "I remember seeing that name, let me see. But I should warn you, Tino left his affairs in a dissolute state. I doubt there's anything that might help in here. As for twenty years ago..." He trails off, looking pensive. "My father would have still been around, so he must have had most of the information."
He starts skimming through the files, intently looking through the documents.
Marcello's father had been an interesting figure. A little too sadistic for my taste (ironic, I know), he was the definition of mental.
"Here," he says, pulling out a file and handing it to me. "It's not much, but it's the only mention of Project Humanitas I remember seeing." He resumes his seat. "Why are you looking into this now?" he asks, but I'm busy studying the file in my hands.
"Did you know your father wanted to invest with a Dr. Miles Holloway?"
The file contains a business proposal submitted by Dr. Miles Holloway to Marcello's father, asking for forty million dollars. The proposal paints Project Humanitas as a rehabilitation program designed to create the perfect soldiers by erasing their notion of right and wrong and making them susceptible to blindly following orders—the perfect killing machines. The proposal, however, only mentions behavioral therapy and not any type of physical experiments.
"No, what is it?"
"He wanted your father to pay him forty million for access to his research." I smirk, suddenly making sense of Valentino's presence at the laboratory when I'd been found. "I'm guessing your father wanted to see for himself what he was going to pour his money into, so he sent your brother to check the project—incognito, of course."
"And he found you," Marcello says, his expression grave. I nod.
"You know, Tino never told me the specifics of how he ended up in that place. Thinking back, it does seem unusual that he would miraculously find you when your father hadn't been able to for years."
"Exactly. Your father never shared his knowledge about Project Humanitas, and now I have to wonder if somehow he wasn't involved."
He would have had many opportunities to tell my father who had kidnapped Vanya and me and why, but he'd never done it. Maybe he just didn't want to incriminate himself.
"Can you look into your father's finances around that time?" I ask Marcello, hoping I can find a paper trail at least.
"Will do." He gives me a brisk nod, and I rise to leave.
"What happened to you there?" he asks as I'm on my way to the door. "Why do you want to find them now ?"
I turn slightly, shrugging. "Things that happen to helpless children," I add, not wanting to get into details. I may not remember what happened, but my body is another story. "Miles and another person were the ones who poisoned Misha against my father and our family, promising him the leadership if he helped them. And Miles is the one who took Katya."
"I see," Marcello replies, his hands in his pockets. "I'll look into it."
"Thanks." I give him a mock salute, leaving.
Behavioral therapy.
Besides the experiments, they also performed behavioral therapy. Then... What if my crises are a result of that therapy? And what if they have a cure?
I don't get to dwell on that as another thought intrudes in my mind, and I find myself surreptitiously sneaking upstairs, finding Sisi's room with ease.
"I told you I'm not in the mood," I hear her voice as I slowly open the door.
"You." She furrows her brows when she sees me come inside her room, locking the door behind me. "What are you doing here?" she asks, narrowing her eyes at me.
For a second, my entire mood is shattered as I realize I'm not welcome.
"I was visiting your brother and thought I'd drop by." I feign a smile.
"You're taking too many risks." She scowls at me, getting up from her bed and coming toward me. "We just saw each other too. "
"So what if I wanted to see you again?" I give her my most charming smile as my arm sneaks around her waist, bringing her into me. "Tell me you didn't miss me." I inhale the scent of her freshly washed hair, and for the first time today, I feel at peace.
"We just saw each other," she sighs, "when would I have had the time to miss you?" She raises an eyebrow at me, seeking to disentangle my hands from her body.
"You should go before anyone finds you here," she repeats, and I feel completely blindsided.
What happened? What did I do wrong?
"Are you feeling okay?" I ask, suddenly worried about her injury. My hand grazes her forehead, but she stops me, flinging it away.
"Yes, don't worry. I'm just tired and I want to sleep." She turns her back to me, returning to the bed and getting under her blanket.
"You should. You're not sleeping enough," I tell her, worried I've been keeping her up too late at night. Taking a seat by the bed, I place my hand over hers.
"Yeah..." she agrees, but something in her expression bothers me. "Maybe we should stop seeing each other for a few days," she suggests, her words throwing me off completely.
"What do you mean?"
"So I can rest a little." She yawns, snuggling deeper under her blanket.
I'm about to protest, but seeing her so tired makes me reconsider my stance. I have been keeping her up too late. Even though I'm loath to, since I know it's going to be painful to be without her, I need to let her rest a little.
"Okay," I reply, schooling my features. I don't want her to note the disappointment in my gaze.
She seems surprised by my easy acquiescence, so she just nods.
"I'll see you on Monday?" I ask, thinking that two days should be enough for her to recover her strength.
Her eyes widen. "Monday? Why?"
"Well, I know Marcello has a thing for Sundays and he will expect you to be present. So that leaves Monday. You should be rested by then. "
"Right..." she murmurs, and I find myself thrown off by her expression again.
What's happening?
"Perfect. I'll text you the details." I lean in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead before leaving her room, stealthily making my way back down and out of the house.
I guess I'm lucky that Marcello isn't the best at choosing his guards, since I've managed to slip some of my own men inside. It's one of the reasons why Sisi's managed to sneak out successfully for so long.
And now I have to wait until Monday....
I groan out loud at the thought. What can I do until then to take my mind off things?
I'm out of the house and heading to the parking lot, my mind still on Sisi's odd behavior when I get inside my car.
Monday...
Something is niggling at my conscience, and I can't put my finger on it. I feel like I'm missing something.
It's only when I get back home and I check Sisi's file that I realize what I've been missing and the reason she's been behaving like this.
Monday is her birthday.
Damn it! She probably thinks I forgot, or that I won't remember and that's why she's cross with me.
Not one to panic, I remind myself that I have two more days to plan something to blow her mind. She'll be so impressed with me that she will bat those pretty eyelashes at me and beg me to kiss her.
S atisfied with what I'd prepared, I shoot Sisi a text to meet me at the edge of her brother's property. I'd arranged a candlelit dinner for her birthday, complete with a full course meal and one hundred candles spelling "Happy Birthday."
I'd scoured the internet for ideas that would make her see that I'd put a lot of effort into this and that I had not forgotten. I'd even hired a chef to cook the perfect dinner, and I'd chosen all of her favorite foods.
For her gift, I'd decided to give her the giant teddy bear I'd seen her admire at the shopping center, as well as a custom Cartier necklace with her name on it. That one had been a little trickier to get, since I'd had only two days at my disposal, so I'd settled on threatening the jeweler with a gun to his temple, while he'd worked on the necklace.
I'd been quite impressed that his hands had not trembled while he'd worked on the necklace. Not even when he'd encrusted the diamonds in the letters. Indeed, I could see why their stuff was so pricey.
Now I can only hope that she will like it too and that she will forgive me for whatever I did. I'd spent the entire weekend thinking what I could have done to offend her, and I'd concluded that anything was possible. After all, I'm not the best when it comes to dealing with women.
Not even the advice columns on the internet had been able to provide me with a straight answer. I'd even joined a forum and asked for advice, but another man had replied that women are inherently an enigma, and that I shouldn't take it to heart. He'd recommended flowers, so of course I'd added that to the dinner ensemble as well.
Again, it hadn't been that easy to get a thousand roses to strew around on the ground, but a little intimidation does wonders.
Still, I've learned my lesson. From now on I'll never forget when her birthday is and I will make sure to have everything prepared in advance.
Sparing a glance at my clock, I realize that she's late. I wait another five minutes, and still, no sign of her, so I try to call her.
Nothing.
Is she... ignoring me? The prospect is distressing so I keep ringing her phone.
Another ten minutes, and a hell of a lot of missed calls later, I abandon the site of the dinner and I decide to confront her in her own home. Surely if I confront her directly she will be able to tell me what I've done wrong and why she's been so cross with me.
Even during the weekend, she'd been very terse in her replies, and while that had been worrying, I'd bet everything on this dinner and on wooing her with my marvelous planning.
What the fuck.. .
I'm already restless as I imagine countless scenarios coming to play as I confront her, the worst being her saying she never wants to see me again, or that she thinks I'm too much for her.
Fuck... What if she thinks she can do much better?
I mean, technically she can, but that doesn't mean I'm about to let her do that.
As I'm walking—okay more like sprinting—toward the house, I can't help the way my brain is pushing forward the worst possible scenarios.
Whatever may be the case, I will ask for her forgiveness, and then we'll be able to move on. Surely, she can't be that upset at me, right?
Even as I scale the walls to her room, I'm still plagued by visions of her saying she hates me now, and I realize that I should probably ban the word hate from her vocabulary, just to be safe in the future.
Propping the window open, I push myself inside, about to call her name when I realize the room is empty.
Her phone is thrown in the middle of the bed, but there is no sign of her.
And as I watch the play of shadows on the wall, I realize that for the first time, I feel truly and utterly lost.
What if she decided that I'm not worthy after all?