Page 3 of The Count

JASMINA HARKER

Adove flittered by the window of the train, its pure white feathers a picture of innocence among all the smoke and grit of the station. The quiet rumble of the engines starting up made me jump. I pressed my hand over my heart, closing my eyes as I tried to shake off this strange feeling in my chest.

I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous. This was just a normal work trip. If anything, it was the chance of a lifetime.

I’d only just gotten my real estate license a year ago. Through some miracle, a massive firm hired me and took me under their wing, teaching me the ropes even though I struggled meeting their quota from time to time. I wasn’t bad at my job, but I wasn’t extraordinary by any means. I told myself I could learn, and each day I was getting a little better. Then, early last week, my boss had called me into his office.

I spent the whole morning stressing about my progress, that I wasn’t fast enough or personable enough, that I hadn’t listed and sold enough properties to be worthy of working at the firm. Much to my surprise, however, he’d called me in because I had been specially requested by their biggest and most respected client.

Around the office, the client simply went by the nickname ‘The Count.’ His full name was Dmitri Alucard, but through some historical event, he carried the title of count. Rumor had it an ancestor of his had been a political ally of Henry VIII and had been granted not only titles, lands, and money, but the use of his many wives too.

He was a real estate tycoon with more money than anyone on our client list by far. Honestly, he was probably richer than ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the world. He bought and sold properties like it was going out of style. For as long as I worked there, there wasn’t a week that went by without him buying and selling a new mansion, house, or plots of land.

And he wanted me.

My boss thought he was thinking of selling his fifteen-hundred-acre estate just outside of Edinburgh. The count had personally requested me. Not only that, but he’d arranged and paid for the trip without even knowing if I would say yes.

To be honest, saying no wasn’t even an option.

If I could land this listing, I would be something at this firm. I could grow, maybe even get a promotion. It was only the beginning and who knew where my career would go after this. The possibilities were endless, and I would not,could notpass that up.

So here I was, sitting in my own personal private suite on the most expensive train in the country about to take the ten-hour trip from London to Edinburgh. I glanced out the window at the stormy clouds. Several fat drops bounced off the glass and I sighed in relief.

Made it inside just in time.

The train started to chug away from the busy station. Outside my window, one man lifted his suitcase to block the rain, dashing under the overhang as the sky started to open up. Pouring rain sluiced across my window and everyone still standing outside raced as fast as they could to take cover. A loud crack of thunder broke overhead.

A second later, a bolt of lightning hit the metal on top of the station roof, lighting up the night like it was the middle of the day. When it faded, it somehow turned so pitch black that even shadows ran from sight.

Feeling uneasy, I stood up and pulled the red velvet curtains closed with a shiver. Storms had always made me feel unsettled. There was something about the wildness of them that scared me, and I’d never been able to shake it.

With a deep breath, I settled back onto the plush bench seat. The velvet lining matched that of the curtains. There was a television in the corner and a single bed opposite me that was covered in luxurious fabrics that emanated first class.

I’d never been in anything like it. The level of detail was so incredibly ornate. Every wooden surface was carved beautifully, probably by hand. The fabrics and pillows were elegant and luxuriously soft. The sheets on the bed probably cost more than I made in a week.

I felt like I should be doing things that rich people do, but to be honest, I didn’t know what those were. There was a chilled bottle of champagne on ice situated on a small table alongside an extravagant charcuterie board loaded with various meats, fruits, and cheeses. There was a bowl of caviar, a small container of honey, and a few different condiments that I couldn’t quite identify by sight.

My stomach rumbled.

I got up and picked up the bottle, noticing it was already uncorked. I poured myself a small glass and popped three ripe raspberries into it. I took a sip and moaned.

That was definitely top shelf.

I poked around at the food, eating my fill and luxuriating in every jaw-dropping delectable bite. I didn’t even want to hazard at what such a spread would cost.

The count had said he’d take care of my every need. If he wasn’t supposed to be a business associate, I might have thought it romantic in an old-fashioned way.

The storm raged on outside and I wanted nothing more than to settle into the comfort and safety of the far too comfortable-looking bed. I hastily changed into my pajamas, feeling as though someone was watching even though I was all by myself. With a shiver, I jumped into bed and grabbed the cabin controlling tablet off the nightstand. I toggled it on, dimming the lights a bit and turning on the television in hopes of drowning out the storm outside. I didn’t turn it up too loud, not sure how noise would travel in the train car.

I didn’t want to get a knock on my door after disturbing the neighbors.

I sipped my drink nervously. I filled it once more as I flipped through the movie options, settling on a silly comedy I’d seen once before in hopes of lightening my mood. It didn’t really work, but soon enough the hour grew late, and my body finally decided to grow tired. I dimmed the lights even further, setting my glass aside for the night and curling up with the hope of getting some sleep.

It was a fool’s hope.

The lightning outside kept flashing so bright I could see it even though my eyes were closed.

The thunder was so loud that it made my heart stop with every rumbling crack.

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