Page 39 of Control: XXX Vadim 1
She looks different from the typical businesswoman, or even an industry professional for that matter. Her clothing is strictly utilitarian, and the briefcase she carries has seen better days. As she sits, she shuffles through said briefcase and withdraws a stack of documents.
“Ah, yes,” she says, furrowing her brow as she reads. “You’ve applied for permanent residency it looks like. We’ll need to do a preliminary house visit, of course, but given the circumstances, I’m sure we can seek placement within a couple weeks. And out of courtesy to you, we can arrange a meeting with the previous family. Your lawyers have assured me that you seek to expedite this case as much as possible?”
“Yes,” Vadim nods. In the blink of an eye, his entire posture has shifted. He sits taller, which has the effect of lengthening his body overall and making him seem even more commanding than usual.
Watching him, I quickly lose track of the complicated business terms as they repeatedly discuss placement and a challenging case. Some kind of business he’s hoping to acquire? Eventually, the meeting ends as both Vadim and Ms. Anderson stand and shake hands.
“Great. And it looks like you’ve already secured a property here in the city! If you’re okay with everything as specified, then I would love to schedule the first preliminary visit by the end of next week, perhaps?”
“That will suffice,” Vadim says, nodding. “I will do everything within my power to ensure that it is perfectly suited.”
Smiling, Ms. Anderson walks off. I’m so distracted by watching her departure that I don’t notice until it’s too late the hand that settles over my lower back.
“A decent performance,baby,” Vadim murmurs against the column of my throat. “Though next time, try not to drool of utter boredom,oui?”
Startled, I swipe at my mouth. Did I?
His laugh reveals that once again, I fell for one of his mind games. Hahaha.
“I should renegotiate my price, adding a deduction for every time you stared off blankly into space, but alas, we have an agreement. Feel free to try your hardest to drive me into bankruptcy. I assure you that you cannot.”
“Is that so?” Challenge accepted. My mind reels with the most expensive, exclusive stores I’d never dream of shopping in before. But as Vadim leads me across the lobby to the concierge, I have enough sense to ask. “What was so different about that meeting that you needed a wife present? I’m sure you’ve made plenty of deals as a bachelor to get where you are.”
His jaw twitches—something I’m starting to realize may be his one and only tell. He’s hiding something.
“Ms. Connors is to have unlimited use of the town car, this evening,” he says to the concierge without addressing my question. “Adieu.”
I watch him go, mildly curious. Halfway across the lobby, he pauses and rummages through his jacket pocket.
“I almost forgot this,” he calls back to me without turning around. He brandishes a small object between his fingers, forcing me to cross over to him to retrieve it—his credit card. “Spend unwisely,” he says, starting off again. “Let’s see how much damage you can do.”
Challenge accepted. I’m already mulling over what style suit might compliment him the best as I meet my driver out front, and we head toward the shopping district. But at the back of my mind remains this niggling sense that I just missed something.
Something vital.
Something he was willing to bargain unlimited use of his credit card and the promise of a shopping spree to distract me from.
Chapter Fourteen
Ireturn to the hotel just before midnight in a different vehicle from the sleek, compact model I left in. Halfway through the outing, the poor driver stuck with me had to call for backup and switch out his smaller model for a Range Rover.
Regardless, my purchases are practically spilling out of the SUV. So much so that I have to run to the front desk to request assistance. But the second I give my room number, the hostess raises an eyebrow.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” she says. “But it looks like you were checked out at least…” She scrolls through her records. “At least five hours ago. The room has already been cleaned.”
“W-What?” Panic grips me so fiercely I have to brace both hands on the counter.Deep breaths, Tiffy. You still have the bastard’s credit card, unless he’s already canceled it…
“Oh! It looks like there was a note left for you. Your husband wanted you to know that he had your things sent home and that he’ll be waiting for you there.”
“Home?”
She scribbles an address onto a slip of paper. I read it warily, half-expecting to find the listing for the Hotel Six back in California. Instead, I don’t recognize the street address or the location.
I try to hand the page back to the hostess. “I think there’s some kind of mistake.”
“No mistake,” she insists. “Our driver will be able to see you home. Thank you so much for your stay, have a wonderful night!”
In a daze, I stagger back out to the car and hand the slip of paper to the driver. Minutes later, we’re leaving the city, heading in a direction that seems vaguely familiar. A view of a gleaming body of water pierces a calmer landscape dotted with trees and the average home made of stone or wood. As the driver turns down a long, winding driveway, it clicks.
