My father is driving me through the evening city. I don’t look out the window. What will I see there: the freedom that I will never have? So all my attention is focused on the car dashboard. The silence in the cabin is tense, but Dad doesn’t like music. A piece of paper he gave me is clutched between my fingers. I run my eyes over the text three times. The topics for conversation with the stranger I am going to meet are quite specific: human development up to the Common Era; space exploration; Da Vinci. Quite a variety. But what scares me isn’t that I’m not well-versed in the first two topics. On the contrary, I hope that my ignorance will be my chance not to be liked. I’m troubled by Da Vinci. Why him?
Dad stops the car in front of a new hotel-restaurant complex. We came to its opening. Back then, Mom and I had to wear golden dresses, matching the facade of the building. That’s how the owner envisioned it. By the way, I never got to meet him, although I was impressed by the beauty.
— Did you remember the topics? I hope you’ll prove that my investment in your education isn’t in vain, Yuliana.
— Of course, Dad, — I reply, holding back my emotions.
— Good girl.
— Can I ask something? — I say as I open the door.
— Yes?
— Am I supposed to live with him starting today?
Volodymyr Dykyi grunts. His smile, as always, is cold and indifferent, demonstrating what I fear.
— Starting today.
— Understood, — I say as I step out of the car onto the street.
The fresh evening air brushes against my hair. The wind carries the scent of summer flowers, caressing my skin with a gentle touch. The car behind me drives away, leaving me alone. I take a deep breath. Well, regardless of my wishes, I have to enter the "Royal Palace".
I walk forward. I clutch my clutch purse tightly. In it is my last hope for salvation, a hope I both desire and fear. Inside, there's Vlad Svyatyi’s business card.
The restaurant doors open before me as I approach. I step inside, allowing myself to enjoy the beauty of the interior. The white walls are complemented by golden trims. Golden chandeliers shine with wealth and luxury. Despite there being just two colors: white and gold; everything is concise and beautiful. It even feels cozy in some sense.
A waiter leads me to a table, the only one that is occupied. The rest are empty. I didn’t even notice this at first. As I walk, I think anxiously about who might be waiting for me. The stranger sits with his back to the entrance. I can only see his dark hair and expensive suit. I dread facing him. The moment when I’ll have to see his face. I feel that my father sold me as soon as the opportunity arose. All for profit, for money, as if he could never close the gap of his own greed.
Another waiter pulls the chair out for me. I deliberately do not look at the man opposite. I adjust my dress, place my clutch on the designated bag holder, and only then raise my eyes. Immediately, I meet a gray-blue gaze. Black lashes accentuate the lightness of his eyes. And, to my surprise, there is calmness and an endless confidence in his own strength.
— Welcome, Yuliana, — the man speaks first. — Glad to see you.
— Likewise… — I say, waiting for him to introduce himself.
— Timur, — he immediately corrects himself. — I apologize for not introducing myself right away.
I simply nod in response. My father wants me to be liked, but I have no desire for that. I examine Timur more closely. Sharp facial features, plump lips as if a true artist had crafted them. Dark hair and pale skin do not clash; rather, they look like a work of nature. The man is handsome. He clearly looks tall and authoritative. He seems accustomed to keeping everything related to him in order. At the same time, there is something off about him, something that doesn’t appear to be as it seems at first glance. It is obvious that Timur is influential; he holds himself that way and looks that way, yet… I can’t grasp that thin string of his aura that hints this is all a mask.
— Would you mind if I already decided on the dishes? — his voice sounds low, and it feels like he’s asking if I am okay with doing something else with him, rather than just about the food.
— No, — I swallow the lump in my throat. For the first time, I feel so uncomfortable. I thought I’d find an old businessman here hoping for young blood.
— Wonderful. — He smiles. — A friend of mine will be joining us. It’s necessary to combine business with pleasure.
I lower my gaze and remain silent. My father's upbringing taught me not to go against such people as Timur or him. It’s easier to agree.
After a few minutes of silence, I hear footsteps. All this time, I feign interest regarding the patterns on the pristine tablecloth. It’s time to realize that Timur’s acquaintance is sitting next to me, I immediately look at him. I can’t express my surprise when I recognize Vlad Svyatyi in him.
— You? — I exhale, forgetting my manners.
Vlad barely smiles, showing with his whole demeanor that he was expecting this exact reaction. His dark blue eyes burn. Every movement of his screams power, might, strength. The black classic suit looks on him as if an angel himself designed it. He emanates danger. Waves of it brush against the invisible bare areas of skin, evoking goosebumps.
— I, — he answers firmly, tilting his head to the side.
His practically black hair captures reflections from the golden chandelier, turning its strands into preciousness.
— But why… you?
— Here? — Timur calmly responds to our conversation. His light gaze softens, as if he’s conversing with a wild animal that fears him.
I look at him. I gather my composure. I have iron willpower. This is mostly my father’s fault, but in such situations, it only weighs on me.
— Yes, — I answer briefly.
Timur’s gray-blue eyes look calm. I shift my gaze to Vlad. What connects these two men, considering Svyatyi’s recent proposal? I will never believe that this is a coincidence.
Vlad’s face is emotionless. He sits relaxed at the table. He thanks the waiter when he brings dishes for the three of us, and he responds to my gaze with silence. With anticipation, I observe both men. They behave as if everything is perfectly fine. Timur pours wine into the glasses, Vlad takes a piece of meat with a fork and places it in his mouth. Only I cannot make my body move. A sense of vulnerability, danger, pulsates in my head. Now Svyatyi’s business card does not seem like a wonderful idea, given my father’s words about me having to live with Timur…
— Have you thought about my proposal? — Vlad’s voice resonates in a low tone. My skin reacts instantaneously. Goosebumps.
— Do you really want to marry me? — I ask, feigning calm.
I look Vlad in the eyes. Steadfast. Practically without blinking. He meets my gaze the same way. The corners of his lips twitch into a smile. Barely noticeable, yet it sends a hurricane rushing between my ribs.
— Vlad offers you a chance to break free from the cage, Yuliana, — Timur says relaxedly, taking a few sips of wine. — Aren’t you hungry?
Now I look at him. Into his gray eyes. There’s no mockery or anything resembling taunting there. No, there’s poise that I wish I had.
— Dad said I should live with you, — I emphasize. — Who are you for Volodymyr Dykyi to want to please you, and why me?
I hear a short laugh from Vlad.
— You are a smart girl, that’s nice, — he speaks in an even tone.
I take a glass of wine and squeeze its stem. My hands tremble, but I don’t know how else to hide it. I drink almost half and only then exhale. I feel trapped between these two men. As if they caught me, but aren’t holding me, yet I can’t bring myself to leave. Not because of my father or my desire to please him. In any case, I am doing everything wrong for this person. Rather because they press down on me. With silence. With even voices. With feigned soft gazes. They know — I will not escape. Because there’s nowhere to go.
— Yuliana, — Timur sighs, — we are not your enemies, believe us.
— You are friends of my father, — I assert.
— Did anyone say we are friends? — Vlad's quiet voice makes me turn to him.
The air between us becomes tense, charged. It feels like the electrical panels are about to burst from tension.
— I am here because he said I should meet the person who liked… yesterday… — the dark eyes of the man blaze, as if such a dark fire could exist in the world. — But Timur wasn’t here yesterday… — I continue slowly. — Was it you? You organized this meeting. Why? My father doesn’t know you but he knows Timur…
— Everything in due time, Yuliana. — Vlad cuts in. He smiles. Satisfaction touches the features of his face.
— So, you two are offering me what? To live with Timur and marry you, Vlad?
Svyatyi playfully raises an eyebrow, and the smile vanishes, leaving only an intrigued, somewhat cheeky expression on his face.
— Who do you like more? — he asks.
I snort bitterly. Timur pours more wine. I immediately take the glass in my hands and drink it all in one go. It may not be polite, but these men need me, for what — I don’t understand. So, I don’t care. They’ll bear with it.
— Yuliana, you will be able to study at the university. Offline. You will be able to attend classes, meet interesting people. You can choose the profession you want, not the one your father wants. — Timur knows where to press. Just like Vlad. That’s what frightens me the most.
— But I must live with one of you?
— With me, — Vlad states firmly.
— With you… — I smile briefly. — Can I think about it? Or will refusing become the reason to emphasize that I, Timur, — I look into his gray-blue eyes, — have done nothing to satisfy my father with something? After all, that’s the condition he specified. To forget about ambitions and satisfy a stranger.
— Your refusal to Vlad will only bring him closer to marrying some old man chosen by Volodymyr Dykyi, — the man responds clearly. — I am here for other reasons.
I narrow my gaze. He is withholding important things. Both of them. It irritates me. Yet, for now, I’ll put that aside. It seems wise to deal with everything one step at a time. It’s still unknown who is better: Vlad or my dad?
— Can I find out the reasons? — I ask nonetheless. Without hope for an answer, but still… can I ask? After all, I am the one they need, not the other way around. At least I’m not ready to acknowledge that they are the better option.
— No. — firmly.
I nod. I accept Timur’s answer. I genuinely don't have any other options. But I hoped for honesty.
— Don’t you think it’s unfair to put me in a frame, knowing my situation? — I ask Vlad dryly.
— Are you worried that you won’t be able to go home today? — his voice enchants. Every note sounds like a velvet melody. It enthralls. It lures. And I know where — into a trap.
— My father said I should forget about ambitions and live with Timur.
— Your father won’t know where you are as long as I don’t want him to, — he smoothly enunciates every word.
I fall silent. My heart starts to race quickly in my ribs. I can’t take my gaze off Vlad. This man is a puzzle with dark intentions. An artist with a closed soul. A stranger playing some game, and I can’t grasp what exactly it is…
Who is he? Who is Timur? Strong, independent, influential. Are they pursuing their own goals? Or is it a shared goal — that’s unknown… And suddenly, I find myself at the epicenter of everything, squeezed from all sides by dangerous men.