CHAPTER 5

LELLA

​Sitting in the driver’s seat was well known Viktor Volkonsky. The man who actually held the second key to the Volkonsky empire. The man Conrad feared more than anyone on earth. At thirty-two, he was a legend of cold brilliance, and right now, his silver eyes were fixed on me through the rearview mirror with an expression that wasn't cold at all. 

It was dangerous.

​"U-Uncle V-Viktor… I'm sorry I got in the wrong car,” I stammered.

“Uncle…” He scoffed, and I don't know why I find it attractive.

My hands immediately fumbled for the door handle. "I'm sorry I'm getting your leather seats soaked–"

​A sharp click of the electronic locks suddenly echoed in the small space.

He locked the door? He did!

​"Stay," he commanded. He reached into the passenger seat, pulling out a thick, grey towel. "Dry yourself, Lella. You’re shivering."

Lella? How did he know my name? He must have heard it earlier from Conrad. Did he see that embarrassing moment? I mean, the slapped from his nephew? God! It's really embarrassing.

I stared at the towel in his hand, hesitating to accept his kindness. 

He's a Volkonsky. He has the same blood as Conrad. I should hate him as well, but… as I stared back at his eyes, my heavy heart lightened for some reason.

No, this is not good. He's a Volkonsky!

But before I could decline, I saw Conrad storm out of the front gate through the rain, looking frantic while his eyes searched the street. He looked pathetic. A boy playing at being a man.

I immediately grabbed the towel and wrapped it around my shoulders and ducked my head, hiding in the shadows of Viktor’s car. He smoothly pulled away from the curb, leaving my past in the rearview mirror.

​We drove for a few minutes in a silence that felt heavy enough to crush me. I've never met him before. Just like I said, Conrad never introduced me to his family. His mother and sister only find out about me, but still Conrad never formally introduced me to his family.

The expensive sandalwood scent of him filled my nostrils and it sent warmth to my chest. ​I looked at his face in the dim light of the mirror. The water was still dripping from his dark hair, soaking the collar of his white shirt until it turned translucent against his skin. 

He didn't mind driving with wet clothes– wait… was he the man who saved me from drowning in the pool?

My gaze lowered to his arm and his hands gripped the steering wheel. The strong arms in the water, the firm grip that had anchored me when I was drowning, was him. It wasn't a lifeguard or a random guest. It was him.

​"You're wet," I whispered. "You... you were the one in the pool…”

​"I wasn't going to stand by and watch you sink.” He glanced at the mirror for a second to look at me. ​"Did he do that to your face?" 

​I immediately turned my head away and hid my red face with my hair. I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to say out loud that the man I had worshipped for two years had struck me down for a lie. But the memory of the slap, the sound, the heat, and the betrayal flashed behind my eyes.

​A sob escaped me. I covered my mouth with my hand, but the tears were already streaming down my face again uncontrollably. I felt like a fool. I had saved every penny for a watch for a man who didn't even see me as human.

"Don't cry for him. He isn't worth a single drop,” he coldly uttered.

I gaze at him and through my blurry vision, I see his face darkened while he calls someone on his phone and talks in Russian, which I couldn't understand.

Suddenly, I felt dizzy and my body started burning up for some reason. I threw the towel on my side and looked around when I felt the car slow down and pull over at the basement parking lot.

This is not my place. My place does not have basement parking.

He got out of the car and opened the door beside me.

“Where are we?” I asked as my head was spinning and the sudden, radiating heat was blooming in my veins.

“My place. The downpour is getting wild.” 

Before I could protest, he scooped me in his arms. As soon as I felt his warmth, the heat radiating from his body made my heart race for an entirely different reason. 

​"You're burning up," he murmured.

The low vibration of his voice against my ear sent shivers down my stomach. 

I should have protested. I should have asked for my apartment, but as my head rested against the solid muscle of his shoulder, the warmth and the scent of him drew me in like a moth to a flame. It makes my insides burn like hell.

​My fingers, acting on a hunger I didn't know I possessed, began to wander. I traced the damp, white silk of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath. My palms slid up his chest, feeling the frantic sound of his heart, and curled around the nape of his neck. 

He was so much larger than Conrad, so much more solid.

​"Lella..." he groaned, a sound so raw and sensual it sent a fresh wave of heat crashing over me.

​I leaned in and my lips barely grazed the pulse point on his neck. I inhaled him, tasting the salt of the rain and the warmth of his skin. I was chasing the fire, desperate to burn away the memory of the man who had hurt me. I trailed my lips upward while my breath trembled as I reached the sharp line of his jaw.

​Suddenly, ​I felt the cool embrace of a mattress beneath my back. The penthouse was dim, the city lights of Manhattan shimmering through floor-to-ceiling glass like fallen stars. 

I gazed back at him when Viktor started to pull away. I held the nape of his neck and pulled him down on me. I saw the darkness in his eyes, a mixture of restraint and desire.

​“Lella." He drew the word out in a low warning. “You're not yourself," he rasped as his hands braced the mattress on either side of my head. "Do you know what you're doing?"

Nope.

Not at all.

I shook my head as my hand fisted into his hair. ​I pulled him down again until I felt his heavy breathing on my lips. My heart pounded in my throat, blood rushed to the surface of my skin, and then, I did it. 

Without hesitation, my lips crashed against his.