— Hi, — I greet softly.
Katrin, thankfully, remains silent. She stands next to me, looking at Vlad as if he were a deity who decided to delight us, mortals, with his presence. The sparkle in her eyes is difficult to hide, but she doesn't even try.
— Hi, — he slowly replies, tilting his head slightly to the side. He looks at me with interest, completely ignoring Katrin. — Do you already have a girlfriend?
I swallow the knot in my throat. It's scary; I'm afraid of judgment. What if he starts scolding me for bringing a stranger into his house? Without warning. Without permission.
— We met at the academy, — the girl replies enthusiastically.
I throw her a quick glance and look back at the Saint.
— Yes, — I confirm her words, not specifying anything.
— Did you pass? — he asks bluntly.
— I did. I think. — I add. — Inesa... she sent her regards.
The Saint smiles. His crooked smile is unsettling and sends a strange shiver through my entire body.
— Inesa... — he repeats. — Did she give you the exam?
— Yes.
— She asked for your last name, and you mentioned mine, — he states. — You dared.
Something constricts my throat and ribs at the same time. I can’t understand the man. I don’t grasp the tone. Is he judging? Scolding? Indignant?
— You said so yourself, — I try to keep my voice steady.
— Status, — he nods. — Good job.
As soon as the Saint says these words, my insides relax. My ribs no longer constrict, nor does my throat; only my heart beats fast.
— I... — my nerves prevent me from focusing. — Do you mind talking? Alone.
— I’ll step out, — Katrin immediately throws in and disappears from the kitchen, fully aware of what the conversation would be about.
— Not a problem, as you can see, — he throws sarcastically.
— Can Katrin stay the night with us? She has nowhere to stay. She didn’t manage to rent an apartment, so... I couldn’t leave her out on the street.
Vlad stands up from the table. His white shirt outlines his body attractively. His blue eyes scrutinize mine. Intentionally. Forcing a blush to creep onto my cheeks and revealing my true emotions. Rolled-up sleeves showcase his handsome hands and the taut veins on them. A bracelet and a watch grace his wrists, creating a strange desire to stare at and admire...
— With us? — he asks again.
The male timbre touches my body like a wave; goosebumps instantly rise on my skin. We haven’t seen each other for a week; last time he calmed me during a storm, and I slept on his shoulder. It feels like an eternity has passed. I desperately want to take a step towards him, to inhale the scent of danger and the leather interior of the car. To feel the taste of paint on my lips and breathe in the coolness of the night. It turns out I missed this.
I clear my throat. Vlad emphasizes the words that I threw out thoughtlessly. My mouth goes dry.
— At your place. I meant...
— You said you said, Yuliana. Did you miss me? — his gaze sharpens.
A step. Another lazy step, and here he is next to me. So close that it pulses in my temples. Thump-thump-thump. A warm rush instantly runs through my veins. Strange, unfamiliar, still foreign to me. Yet familiar to him; I see it in the dark blue canvases of the Saint.
— I...
He looks at me with interest. Deliberately heated, as if there’s a touch of summer heat. He, across from me, is a work of art. A masterpiece for which one would want to give all the riches of the world. Literally.
— Where have you been? — I ask sharply, surprising even myself.
My father always taught not to ask questions. Simply humbly do what you’re told. Act polite and obedient. But Vlad... he said freedom is mine. I know it’s pretend. Just words, but how much they can open up... Sometimes it seems like I see the path to the real one... But in reality, I know I'll have it when Vlad frees me and my mother and brother from my father’s influence. How? Unknown. But it doesn’t matter. What happens to Volodymyr Dyk will matter little. The main thing is to save myself and lead a peaceful life. If I've got the strength for myself. If I can...
— You’re learning to answer questions with questions?
I bite my lip and tuck my hair behind my ear.
— I just... waited for us to go to the exam together, — I force myself to admit.
— Hmm, — he murmurs in a low voice. — Let your friend stay the night. — He unexpectedly touches my hair with the tips of his fingers and frees strands from behind my ear. — Dinner is in the fridge; you can heat it up. Stay out of my bedroom and workshop. Goodnight.
Everything happens too quickly. The man’s palm on my neck. He pulls me close and leaves a gentle yet painfully burning kiss on my lips. Instantaneously, yet slowly to madness. Then he leaves the kitchen, leaving me confused and shattered. Why?... It’s either icy cold or fiery warmth that cannot be explained. I don’t understand any of this. So, I cannot define his actions. But I clearly realize one thing — he still hasn’t said where he was all week.
Katrin appears in the kitchen almost instantaneously as soon as the Saint disappears. Her eyes shine; she even wipes off the pretend sweat from her forehead and sits down at the table, pulling the chair back.
— Wow! — she exhales with a trembling voice. — What a man.
I throw her a surprised glance. However, I mentally agree. Vlad radiates strength, confidence, and charisma, although all of that is overshadowed by his coldness. I nod and take dinner out of the fridge. I don’t even look at what it is; I just heat it up in the microwave and set it on the table.
The kiss still burns. Not stolen by me. On the contrary — it was given by him. A kiss through which my legs tremble and won’t hold me up, and my body takes flight.
— So who is he to you? — the girl whispers while eagerly quenching her hunger.
Only now do I see that it’s baked potatoes with meat and asparagus.
— It's complicated.
— Explain.
I take a fork and slowly sift through the potatoes on my plate.
— He is my fiancé.
Katrin chokes. She coughs and looks at me in surprise.
— Fiancé? And where did you scoop him up? I want one too!
I humph. A sad smile appears on my face by itself.
— He’s more likely to catch me, — I say slowly.
— Where-e-e-e?
I wave my hand. I can’t open up to a stranger, so I decide to simply ignore the question.
— Do you love him?
Katrin’s question throws me off balance. I look at her a bit lost, yet I shake my head.
— No.
— Then why… — she throws in. — Does he love you? — she interrupts herself.
— No.
— Well, I don’t understand anything at all. Yuliana, sweetheart, what are you doing with him? For money, right? No, don’t answer! I’m silent! Let’s talk about the academy. Are you ready? Lectures, and all that? We won’t always sit in front of easels.
— I know, — I finally manage to shove some potato into my mouth. I’m glad she decided to change the subject. — It’s nothing. But how much interesting stuff awaits us.
After that, we eat dinner practically in silence. Katrin shares some stories, and the kiss has shaken the ground from under my feet, keeping my mind entirely occupied. Not just on it; I crave continuation. My whole body vibrates, resembling a taut string, and I can't even explain to my inner self why and what to do next.
Later, I tell Katrin she will sleep with me. Vlad hadn’t said she could crash on the couch, and my bed is wide enough to fit more than two. Around midnight, we lie down. The girl tells me that she came to conquer the city from a small village, sharing her dreams and goals. She talks about the hardships of life in the village, the most striking being the care for livestock and the hard work involved in making money from them. I didn’t think you could live like this in our time… We fall asleep chatting.
I wake up when night begins to battle with dawn. The light slowly pushes away the darkness; birds outside the window sing songs only they know. I shuffle and realize that Katrin is not in the bed. I sit up quickly, startled by this. I get up and rush into the room while adjusting my pajama top and shorts to cover the exposed parts of my body as best as I can. My long hair tickles my back and irritates me, so I try to tie it up in a bun, but it keeps cascading down my shoulders in strands.
Katrin isn’t in the living room, but I notice the door to Vlad’s workshop slightly ajar. I quietly step towards it, feeling fear. Vlad emphasized that the girl shouldn’t enter there...
I sneak into the workshop through the darkness. Katrin is fortunately, or unfortunately, in there. She stands opposite the Saint’s canvases, examining them carefully. She must hear my approach because she turns around.
— Yuliana, — she says slowly. — Why didn’t you tell me your fiancé is the same artist? I know his work; I recognized it right away...
— I didn’t know it was important, — I reply quietly. — Let’s go, Katrin, — I approach her and take her by the elbow. — Vlad asked you not to come here. He... doesn’t like that.
— How can you not like it when people admire your skill? He’s done exhibitions; I was lucky enough to attend one a few years ago. — she replies passionately.
— Katrin, — this is beginning to annoy me. — Let’s go.
Suddenly the light turns on. We, like two thieves, turn sharply. Vlad stands before us, wearing black silk pajama pants and a matching shirt, which is unbuttoned, revealing his perfect physique: abs, chest, and the trail leading down into the waistband of his pants.
I remain silent, just like my new acquaintance. My heart beats a frantic rhythm, my palms instantly grow sweaty. I remember — the Saint is not my father, yet… fear is not so easily eradicated from the subconscious.
— Katrin, — Vlad speaks in a low voice. My insides constrict, and my soul drops to my feet, becoming numb. — I will call you a cab. Get ready. — dryly, clearly, in a tone that cannot be disputed.
The girl senses his anger. And I see this for the first time. She quickly abandons me in the workshop, disappearing somewhere behind the door. We are left alone. The blue of the man darkens, a lazy smile dances on his lips:
— She’ll leave, and we’ll have a conversation about your choice of friends, — he says sternly and also disappears behind the door.
It seems the Saint is no longer concerned about me being in his workshop.
Katrin’s packing doesn’t take long. A few short minutes and she disappears from the apartment, casting a sad glance back at me. Her gray eyes apologize, and her sad smile hints that she would try to atone for her debt.
As soon as the entrance door locks, Vlad gestures for me to come to the living room. I sit on the couch, trying once more to fix my hair, which doesn’t listen to its owner, and watch him. He brings a bottle of whiskey and places it on the table. Then he brings a cup filled with hot and fragrant tea and sets it before me. Only then does he take a seat next to me, pour himself a drink, down it, and say:
— Your father kept you in a locked cage, so I’m not surprised that you’re so clueless about choosing friends and acquaintances, Yuliana. So listen carefully: every person on planet Earth is looking for someone who benefits them. It doesn’t matter whether you’re close or not. Friends or not. Relatives or not… Gain, — he spells it out, — is the first thing that people like Katrin are interested in. Do you know why? — he begins coldly.
— Why? — I whisper hoarsely.
Vlad pours himself another drink and gestures for me to drink my tea. I obediently take the cup and savor the sweet drink with hints of strawberry.
— Money.
— And close ones? Not everyone wants something bad, or...beneficial.
— Exceptions to the rules exist. Usually, these people love you, truly love you, just like that, under any circumstances. This is what family is. The rest is nothing. You are nothing to them, and they should be nothing. Sometimes mutual relationships exist.
— Like you and Timur? — I try to steer the conversation where I need it.
The Saint humphs. He leans back on the couch, displaying his perfect body, and slowly takes a sip of his drink.
— Do you think we want to pressure your father for mutual benefit?
— What else could I think? You said “everything in time,” but there are no explanations.
— It’s been the third week since you became my fiancée, — he states unconditionally, — the time has not yet come.
I think to myself and humph. The time has not come… Will it? However, I try to be brave. I can hardly scream at myself that I shouldn’t be a timid fawn. I remind myself — Vlad is not my father. So I dare to ask again:
— You didn’t answer last night… Where were you all the previous week? You didn’t even come to sleep.
Vlad slowly scans me with his eyes. The blue darkens, and there’s an air of danger, typically rising around wild beasts in the forest and men with whiskey in their hands.
— Do you want me to sleep with you?
I blush. I squeeze the cup tighter with my fingers and take a sip immediately. I remain silent because... I can’t bring myself to say “yes,” just as I can’t answer “no.” I don’t even care what I want. I limited our relationship myself. I set the boundaries myself. So, it doesn’t matter that this man awakens my imagination.
— Come on, Yuliana, give me an answer, — he teases. — I’m not against it. After all, — he tilts his head to the side and slowly licks his lips, — you dared to kiss me. You crossed the threshold that divided our relationship. Now it can safely be stated about the relationship. — The mockery sounds in his tone, but I don’t find it funny. At all.
My hands tremble. I set the tea down on the table and dare to look him in the eyes.
— But I didn’t barge into your life so unexpectedly, — I state. I take pride in keeping my voice steady and somewhat indifferent. — I didn’t touch myself after the restaurant.
The Saint listens attentively. His eyes survey me, capturing every breath, every emotional flicker in my gaze, every movement... As if I am an interesting, atypical object needing study, perhaps even research.
— Right, — he cuts in low. — Not you.
This answer leaves me at a dead end. What to say next? Vlad doesn’t seem to feel awkward; he’s tempting... He doesn’t think of it as anything bad. On the contrary, he continues to balance. To see how long I can resist? Or is it just a game being played alongside his plan against my father?
— Then I don’t find your question relevant, — I cut in as clearly as possible.
The dark brows of the man arch, his gaze grows bolder and darker, and a smile plays on his lips. He sets his glass down on the table and leans on his knees with his elbows.
— And still, I want to know the answer, — he says in a playful tone.
I narrow my eyes. I catch myself thinking that here I am, in a situation that's inherently dangerous, and I’m not scared. Not next to him — no. I consciously know I should be afraid of this man. He hides too much. He keeps quiet. Influence and power are parts of his character, so he can allow himself anything. Yet... that’s not enough for me to feel genuinely threatened. Just a strange trust despite other emotions. Absolutely illogical, erroneous, and most likely that which will lead to ruin... At least a price will have to be paid, one way or another. For everything. Including real freedom, not just that which the Saint has granted.
I lick my dry lips. A nervous tension fills my entire body. Between us, the air sparks and explodes again. It seems as if I close my eyes and hear everything around cracking.
— Why? — I force myself to ask. — I’m just a pretend fiancée; you know that. — in a hoarse voice.
The blue cannot grow darker and maintain its hue, but that doesn’t apply to the man’s eyes. They light up with something unfamiliar, wild, and whisper various improprieties into my ear.
— I know, — he cuts in lazily. — It’s troubling, isn’t it? As if everything is possible, yet there’s that “as if.”
For some reason, I want to scream that our agreement doesn’t state this at all. Only about his obligation to save my mother and brother when he executes what he wants concerning my father. But I stay silent. I blush even more and remain quiet.
I’m drawn to Vlad. He pulls me with a rope he threw around my neck himself, pretending he doesn’t know it’s there. I just don’t understand where all of this fits in; the game, the desire to use me, and to drown my father, and where the truth is? But how, since the man is a mystery. An ancient chest that can only be unlocked with a key that’s lost somewhere in fairytales.
— You confuse me, — I whisper. — I immediately said that between us, there would only be business relations. And you keep rewriting... Now you've called me to talk with me about choosing friends, yet this conversation has taken a different turn.
— I’ll note, Yuliana, that it’s you who is stepping further, not me. You kissed me. You’re asking where I spent the nights, forgetting about the “as if.” — Playfulness disappears from his voice. Only facts remain. Just them.
— Are you blaming me?
— I’m stating. I gave you freedom. Protection. I gave you the chance to live as you wish, to use the status of my fiancée. Think about whether it’s worth it for you to delve deeper into your questions if you’re not ready for more. I’ll remind you not to go where the path is paved with feigned emotions. Don't start if you're not ready to see what true strength and power are. Different. Not the kind you saw in your own father.