Page 50 of Corrupt: XXX Vadim 2
Chapter Fifteen
Ifigure I should be far more pissed at becoming a forced babysitter than I actually am. Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? Babysitting?
Because, as I’ve told myself repeatedly, Magda isn’tmine. I shouldn’t enjoy losing to her at Monopoly for the umpteenth time. I shouldn’t find an odd sense of pride in the fact that she allows me to pick out her pajamas—a pink, gossamer nightgown—while she takes her bath. Brushing her hair is far too personal a task for a glorified babysitter, as is tucking her in and ensuring that both of her dolls are within reach.
“Goodnight, sweetie.”
I return to Vadim’s room alone, finding the bed huge without him here. And as I huddle beneath the silken sheets, a wave of doubt crashes over me with such brutal intensity, I almost can’t breathe beneath the onslaught. Where is he? Is he safe? Or has something happened? Something that drove him off on one of those emotional benders he’s hinted at?
I spend the night tossing and turning as those various fears torment me, robbing any anger I should feel of potency. I’m exhausted by the time I finally crawl out of the still-empty bed and get dressed. Downstairs, I make myself more tea and turn my sole focus to Magda.
Pushing any thoughts of boundaries aside, I make her a bowl of cereal for breakfast and pour her a fresh glass of juice. Then I head upstairs, relieved to find her still in bed.
Perched on the end of her mattress, I run my fingers through her hair until she wakes up. “Time to get the day started, kiddo.”
Rubbing her eyes, she sits up and scuttles to the end of her bed, waiting expectantly. It’s a belated second before I realize why. Following my unspoken cue, I enter her closet and pick out another outfit—a pair of jeans and a lime green sweater. After I braid her hair, she follows me downstairs and eats.
Then she fixes me with another disarmingly vulnerable glance I’m woefully unprepared for. “Can I go play with Ainsley?” Her eyes are so wide I feel swallowed by them, devoured by their openly pleading nature. “Please?”
I fumble for my glass of juice and promptly knock it over. “I… Um, we should wait for Vadim to get back.” I force a grin, but her mouth falls flat in response. From her dour expression, I assume that she feels the same way on that prospect that I do deep down—who knows when that will be?
“I want to play,” she says, folding her hands beside her bowl.
It’s such a simple, plaintive statement that somehow slips through my defenses and cuts deep. Maybe because it’s a different tact from her stoic persona. I’m just as vulnerable to her as I am to Vadim when he lets his true emotions slip through. Helpless.
“I… I’ll be right back.”
My mind spins as I leave the kitchen and head aimlessly for the foyer. Instead of Vadim returning, I find Ena standing guard, his arms crossed as I approach. And a split-second’s decision forms in my brain too quickly to challenge.
“I want to make a deal,” I tell him as he eyes me warily. “And I know you’ll want to refuse it, but hear me out.”
He cocks his head, his frown skeptical. “I listen.”
“Magda wants to play with the little girl next door—” As far as mansions with acres of property go. “And I think she could. And yes, I am talking about Maxim’s daughter.”
Ena’s nostrils flare, and I almost take a step back. He looks liable to hit me, revealing the true depths of his loyalty to Vadim. “No. No—”
“I’ll take all responsibility,” I insist, lifting my hands in a placating gesture. “Or… I’ll tell Vadim that you let her wander onto his property unprotected. I found her there yesterday.”
It’s a low blow. One I would never resort to under different circumstances. Is a playdate even worth it?
No.Ena’s furious expression warns me that making an enemy out of him is the worst possible act I could have taken.
“Look at her,” I demand, trying another tack. “She’s cooped up in a strange house, with strange people. The man who brought her here just disappeared to only God knows where. She’s lonely. All she wants to do is play with a little girl her own age. Are you going to tell her no?”
He squares his jaw, and I have no doubt that he’s capable of doing just that. He takes a step toward her, only to deflate, his shoulders slumping. Whirling on his heel, he jabs a finger at me.
“You take blame,” he insists. “Ena knows nothing. You take girl on your own.”
I sigh in relief. “Thank you—”
“No thank me.” He laughs coldly, his upper lip quirked. But it’s not a smug expression. It’s pitying. “Mr. Vadim kill you.”
And he may, I concede to myself. But not if I kill him first.
“Thank you.” I race past Ena before he can change his mind and approach Magda. Any doubts I may have are instantly dashed when she gazes up at me, her wall lowered a fraction to reveal the little girl underneath.
Screw boundaries. If Vadim wants to leave me with his daughter overnight, then he would cede her to my authority. Gosh, I just hope that trust isn’t misplaced.
