Chapter Eight
Victoria
“Hey, isn’t it time for lunch?” Matthias stretched and I had to look away from the tantalizing glimpse of his jacked midriff as his shirt rose up.
“I have to finish here. You can go eat something,” I said, focusing on getting a stubborn red stain, which could be ketchup or could be blood, out of a military style jacket.
“Um. No? I can’t? I’m not leaving you even for a moment. Theo left you to go to the bathroom and look what happened. C’mon, let’s get some chow.”
“Look, it’s not so simple. I’m a persona non grata in the staff dining room, so the chance for me to get my hands on the lunches the kitchen prepares is slim. Usually, I can get some leftovers if I go straight to the kitchen about two hours after lunch.”
Matthias looked horrified then thunderously angry.
“Those fuckers are starving you? I will punch their faces in.”
I grabbed his arm to keep him in place.
“Wait! No punching, remember?”
“Tristan only said to not punch Carl, everyone else is fair game!”
“That won’t help with anything. Just… don’t,” I said. My fingers pressed around his arm until I could feel the steely muscles under the skin.
His fists clenched in impotent rage.
“But I don’t know what else to do! It’s not fair!”
“Life is never fair,” I said with a sigh.
“I will make it fair for you,” Matthias promised. “If fists aren’t the answer that only means I can’t solve this. But I’m not alone. And neither are you.”
He pulled out his phone and started furiously typing.
Once I was sure he wasn’t going to storm off I returned to my work but I couldn’t help but throw curious glances at the man who was texting back and forth with someone.
The mystery unraveled when Tristan came knocking on the door to the laundry room.
“Miss Victoria, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to a late lunch?” he asked with a smile.
I looked at Matthias and raised my eyebrows.
“He will take care of you,” the man said as he straightened to his full intimidating height. “Tristan, I will be back in half an hour, an hour tops.”
“Take your time,” Tristan said. “You have a very important mission.”
With a last firm nod, Matthias stalked off and left us alone.
I was pretty sure lunch with the ‘honored guest’ was only going to gain me more scornful looks from the staff but as the offer has already been made I straightened out my work space then joined Tristan.
He led me to a secluded spot in the garden where a table for two was already waiting. The steaming dishes made my mouth water. It has been a long time since I had the chance to eat anything smelling so heavenly.
Not going to look a gifted horse in the mouth, I took my place at the beautiful wrought metal garden table and dug in.
“Where did you lose Theo?” I asked, once I satisfied myself with a few bites.
“He was planning to join me for the between-the-talks lunch but now Matthias has co-opted him for his task,” Tristan explained.
My appetite soured. I was the reason the sunshine personified couldn’t eat this delicious meal? Was I stealing it from him? And Matthias had to go hungry to guard me as well…
“We should save some food for them,” I motioned at the side dishes a bit frantically. The main plate with the delicious meat in a creamy sauce and sauteed vegetables was already ruined by my appetite but surely the side dishes could be put aside.
“Don’t worry, Miss Victoria,” Tristan waved his hand. “I’m sure they will get a bite to eat on the way. And if they are still famished they can just order more food to our rooms.”
Oh. Of course, they could do that. My brain just automatically went into survival mode, presenting me with the worst that could happen to someone in my position. But they were Jonas’ personal guests.
I let myself relax and enjoy the meal.
The other positive side of the lunch was the chance to get to know Tristan better.
As much as I appreciated Theo’s bright youthfulness and Matthias’s protectiveness, I always had a bit of an eye for older men.
Back in the days when my father was alive, it was a game to shoot looks from under my eyelashes at older gentlemen when I had to attend socialite events.
I liked flirting with men who were polite but who had an undercurrent of danger around them.
I had a feeling there was enticing darkness, hiding just under the stoic surface, and that Tristan wouldn’t hesitate to fulfill some of my more wicked fantasies if I asked him to.
“How do you find the Sunset Mansion?” I asked and made sure to take the next bite off the fork as sexily as I could.
“It’s beautiful, of course, but can I tell you a secret?” Tristan leaned towards me conspiratorially. “Mine is better. Here, the architectural artistry of days begone is treated like a museum and not a living space.”
“It’s all for show,” I snorted. “The living quarters of the family are completely modernized. You step from a Victorian-style corridor into a room that could be a penthouse at the top of some New York tower.”
“It’s possible to mix the old and new but you need to know what you are doing.
And the Cornello family, even if they have roots in Europe, is very much new money here.
They often fall into the fallacy of ‘if it costs more it’s better’,” Tristan commented.
“I, on the other hand, know that sometimes it’s the dubiously cheap things that bring you joy. ”
“Yeah? Like what?” I asked cheekily.
“Let’s see… A few years ago, Theo fell in love with a particularly ugly stick-and-peel wallpaper and decided to plaster it all over our state-of-the-art fridge.”
I had to cover my mouth to smother my laugh at the vision.
“What kind of design was it?”
“Hexagons. A sci-fi inspired pattern with a silver foil finish,” Tristan looked heavenwards in his exasperation.
“And a few days later Matthias decided that since we were modifying the fridge he was going to get some magnets. Now the fridge is infested with dozens of tiny magnetic vegetables and other frequent shopping items. We put the magnets on designated hexagons to indicate if the product is in the fridge or if we have to buy it.”
“And how about you? Did you add your personal touch to the fridge?” I waved my fork in the air, wanting to know more about the man sitting across from me.
He looked pleased that I asked.
“I did. I bought one of those black chalkboards, cut it into a hexagon shape, and fitted it to the central hexagon on the fridge,” he shared.
“Aw, are you writing little affirmations there? Live, laugh, love, and all that?” I teased. “Or are you using it for something practical, like a to-do list?”
“I may have been the creator of the Black Hexagon but, since its inception, I have lost any power over how it’s used. It was supposed to work as a quick way to share practical information and reminders but right now it’s being used for the 5th iteration of the meme war.”
I nearly spat the drink I just took a sip of. After swallowing with difficulty, I wheezed out: “Meme war? Are you joking?!”
“Of course not. I am very demure, very mindful,” Tristan deadpanned, using a meme I knew to drive the point home. “Unfortunately, I have been the victim of those wars and I learned all those memes through indecent exposure.”
I shook my head with amusement. By learning those little weird details I felt like I gained more knowledge of the three men in a few minutes than I would usually get after hours of polite, boring, normal conversation.
“What will you add to the fridge?”
Tristan’s question, and its implications, stunned me.
He wasn’t asking me what I would do but what I was going to do. As if he was certain I was going to end up in their home, with them, sharing their space. Being allowed to change it. Being acknowledged. Being asked to express myself.
“I think I would like to steal three of the hexagons for myself, put your names on them, and buy some golden stars magnets. And when one of you deserves it, you are going to get a gold star,” I said slowly,
Tristan’s eyes looked hungry at the mention of a physical manifestation of my approval.
“Be careful with that,” his voice rumbled and for the first time I could see how a dangerous elemental power could fit him. I shivered. “We are quite competitive and each one of us would want to get all the stars. Everything you could give.”
“You… you can always work together to get them,” I choked out.
The slow smile bloomed on his face and showed his sharp fangs.
“It will be our pleasure.”
I couldn’t get the image of the three men working hard to please me out of my head for the rest of the meal.
I imagined Matthias kneeling at my feet again but this time between my legs, holding them open to eat me out.
Theo kissing my lips with sweetness and enthusiasm.
Tristan seated in an antique armchair with a glass of wine in his hand, watching, directing the others. Me, climbing into his lap at his order…
The atmosphere between us was charged but Tristan was content to let it simmer, adding fuel to the fire in small doses: a brush of fingers here, a heated look there, until I thought my cheeks were going to be permanently stained with a blush.
The arrival of Theo and Matthias saved me from combustion.
“All taken care of?” Tristan asked.
“Yeah, we left the bags in Miss Victoria’s room,” Theo said happily.
“You didn’t have the key,” I squinted suspiciously at the pair.
“I didn’t need one,” Matthias said smugly.
For a moment I couldn’t breathe at the thought of my last stand, the space I could pretend to be safe in, being invaded whenever he wanted to come into my room. I wouldn’t be able to stop him. He could do whatever he wanted—
I took a deep breath and forced myself to see Matthias as someone who stuck silly vegetable magnets to the fridge and participated in meme wars and not the killer machine he obviously was. It helped a bit, but I couldn’t help but still be wary.
Reluctantly, I eyed the position of the sun in the sky and decided it was time to get back to work and say my goodbyes to Theo and Tristan. The pair had to return to squaring off with Jonas over the negotiations table so I was once again left with Matthias trailing after me.
“Do you want me to help you with that?” Matthias asked, eyeing the remaining stacks of dirty clothes dubiously. A mansion of this size produced a lot of laundry.
“Do you even know how to wash clothes?” I raised a questioning eyebrow. Wasn’t he a rich boy?
“Hey, I was in the army! I’m not one of those modern kids who wouldn’t know a chore if it bit them in the ass,” Matthias scowled but then added.
“…though we mostly used basic cleaning methods and not all this fancy stuff you have here. But I know hot water and soap should be enough for fresh blood.” He nodded towards one of the piles.
Huh. There should not be any bloodied items there, I had a separate pile for those that needed hand washing…
But as I searched among the materials I indeed found a bloodied white shirt.
How did I miss it? And more importantly, how did Matthias know it was there when it was under other clothing items? Did he… smell the blood?
“Thanks for the offer but I will do this myself,” I insisted. “I don’t need to give Jonas and Carl more ideas to screw me over. I’m sure they would use it against me, if they saw you taking care of my work.”
“If you’re sure,” Matthias said with obvious reluctance.
He planted himself on a chair near the entrance and at first he kept an alert posture, as if he was at an army observation post with enemies about to attack, but over time he lost his rigidness and his foot started tapping against the floor.
A few minutes later he jumped from his seat and landed in a crouch before he started doing squats, then katas from some kind of martial arts.
He had to be bored out of his mind.
“You have your phone on you?” I asked after he sat back in his chair an hour later.
I was angling for some music but I got something even better.
“Yup. Hey, maybe I could read to you!” the brute of a man said, making me feel a bit bad for judging the book by the cover and assuming he wouldn’t be someone filling his free time with reading.
“Alright. That sounds fun,” I agreed eagerly. “What do you have there?”
“I’m in the middle of this long saga but I had been planning to read this one collection of short stories… let me find it… here it is! Hope you like dragons.”
We shared a smile.
“I love dragons. Bring it on!”