Page 24 of Corrupt: XXX Vadim 2
“Okay.” She proceeds to close the door, forcing us to scramble out into the hall. The resulting slam resonates through the walls.
I look at Vadim. His expression is more controlled than ever, crafted to avoid displaying a hint of real emotion. But he can’t hide from me—not anymore. Confusion haunts his eyes as they meet mine, alluding to a pain he desperately scrambles to hide.
“Let’s go see about lunch,” he says.
I follow him into the kitchen, where I’m surprised to find the fridge and cupboards magically stocked with food fit for a child and not just enough sustenance to keep a reclusive billionaire alive. Ena’s even made a series of new meals to fill the freezer, it seems. Color coded, to boot—blue lids contain the usual meat and vegetable entre that Vadim appears to prefer. Yellow, on the other hand, looks to be an array of child-friendly fare from chicken nuggets and fries to vegetables cut in all sorts of appealing shapes.
“I have got to get myself a henchman,” I say as I examine another carefully crafted meal.
Vadim eyes me with the hint of a smile threatening his serious frown. “I have a feeling you’d be a lot more demanding than I am. Ena would love you as an employer.”
“Maybe I’ll rethink keeping my distance from him,” I propose. “That is, if he can forgive me for forgetting to feed you before your standoff with your brother.”
Vadim’s grin falls flat, and a sudden thought makes me reach for his hand, stroking the back of it.
“Does he know?” I ask. “Maxim. About…”
“No,” Vadim says, his teeth bared, eyes cold. “And as far as I’m concerned, he doesn’t need to.”
“He is her uncle,” I say, but I’m not sure if I mean it as a question or a statement. I know firsthand that relationships, no matter how close, can dissipate overnight. Titles mean nothing. You can go from someone’s wife one second, to a stranger the next—and vice versa apparently.
In search of a distraction, I turn my attention back to the freezer and rummage through the prepackaged meals. “I think I want chicken,” I declare, deciding for us both.
Dutifully, Vadim places the platter in the oven while I stand on tiptoe to rummage through the cupboards above his head.
“I also think this occasion calls for a little daytime wine. Yes?”
He shoots me an amused look that makes my breath catch.
“I think I should buy shares in this company,” he says while reading the label of my cherished vintage. “You must singlehandedly keep them afloat.”
I simper. “What can I say? It’s in my blood—” I break off as I spot a small figure watching us from the doorway, her arms crossed.
“There is a pool,” she says carefully. Her tiny frown and stern gaze take on a harder edge, as if she’s fighting to seem as disinterested as possible.
“Oh, that’s right,” I say, recalling the list Vadim and I had poured over. “You like to swim. Right?”
Magda says nothing, turning her attention to Vadim, who cautiously meets her gaze. It’s like something unspoken passes between them, and they both promptly turn away, their jaws clenched.
“Never mind,” Magda says, shrugging. “It’s too cold to swim, anyway—”
“It’s heated,” Vadim says. He skirts the counter and advances toward her. “You can swim whenever you’d like. As long as I, Tiffany, or another adult is present.”
Magda’s lips twitch, but she forces a curt nod. “Okay.”
“And there are acres of property,” Vadim adds, ushering her into the foyer. I follow them at a distance, but close enough to hear him add, “We’re having a playground built there—” he points to a section of budding construction visible through the row of windows in the living room. “And there is a boathouse if you’re interested in going onto the water. And a stable…”
I’m so distracted watching them. I barely notice the muffled thud of advancing footsteps until the front door trembles beneath a thudding blow. Another. Then, as we all watch, the door flies open to reveal a hulking creature resonating so much rage he almost seems inhuman.
Maxim. His dark eyes fly to Vadim as he forms his hands into fists, and boldly crosses the threshold.
“Is this a game to you?” he demands, his accent so thick I can barely understand him. “Buying this house. Flaunting your ownership. To taunt me? I should—”
He plows into the foyer without seeming to notice the small figure nearly trampled in his path. Magda’s eyes go bug-wide as her mouth contorts into a startled o-shape. I don’t even think she manages to scream before she turns on her heel and runs.
But her target is already halfway to her. Without hesitation, Vadim snatches her into his arms, crushing her to his chest.
“Get out,” he growls, holding his daughter protectively close. I’ve never seen him like this—eyes flashing, expression lethal. “Now.”
