Page 16 of Kaid's Empire

Theia

Standing, I stare at my packed suitcase, debating if I am making the right choice. Last night I pleasured myself thinking of him. I mean, how fucked up is that? If I was back in England, I would be down that police station so fast, pressing charges for harassment and everything else. I could call a friend, anyone and ask them for advice, but I haven’t because anyone else would say run for the fucking hills. Last night, it felt like he was there with me, like he was watching me.

A knock at my door makes me jump. “Shit.” I take a breath. “Probably just cleaning service.” I open the door to see a large box with a ribbon around it. I lean out and look down the hall to see who left it, but there is no one there. I bend down, picking it up and bring it inside, placing it on the bed. I pull the ribbon off and lift the lid. I see a card laying on top of something covered in tissue paper.

Written across the envelope is, ‘Kroschka.’ My stomach flips and my hands shake. I open it and read the card inside.

My Kroschka,

A gift for tonight, eight o’clock.

Kaid.

That’s it, nothing else. I place the card down and unwrap the tissue paper. I pull out a dress, a beautiful deep wine body-con knee length dress. It has a beautiful lace bodice overlay. I catch the tag. “Fucking hell.” I choke seeing the price. I notice something at the bottom of the box and I hold it up. A casino gaming chip and engraved on it in gold is Kroschka. A smile starts to play on my lips. I quickly shake my head. “No, Theia,” I warn myself. Sighing, I flop down in the chair, still holding the dress. “What the fuck do I do?” I ask my empty room.

I stand in front of the mirror, looking at myself in the dress he sent. How in the hell did he even know my size? The dress fits like a second skin, not leaving much to the imagination. It’s a good job I am comfortable in my own skin––size sixteen, I embrace my curves, but in this dress, I can’t help but suck my stomach in just a little, wishing I had packed my suck it all in underwear.

I have left my dark brown––nearly black––hair in loose waves and kept my eye make-up simple but decided on my deep red lipstick. I blow out a slow breath. “It’s just a date, nothing more. You don’t like it or him, you come back here and you can go home and never have to see him again,” I say to myself, hoping my own pep talk will calm my swirling nerves.

I grab my phone to send my mum a quick text, to let her know not to call the embassy. I put my phone in my clutch bag that I unpacked from my suitcase––I've not fully unpacked just in case I want to make a break for it tomorrow. On that note, I make a note to go into my hand luggage bag and fish out my passport, not sure if I will need it tonight when buying drinks or to gamble. I’m not really sure what the laws are here. I rummage through the bag coming up empty. “Where the hell is my bloody passport?” I ask myself, emptying the entire contents of my bag onto the bed. Nothing. “Think, think, think… when did I have it last?” I ask myself in a panic. I had it when I went out for lunch, then I had it when I went to… “Allegra’s,” I blurt. Shit, what if I dropped it in the ocean when I was in a hurry to leave?

A loud knock echoes and I jump, letting out a screech. “Shit.” I walk to the door and swing it open, feeling hot, panicked and frenzied. But all rational thoughts vanish from my mind. Kaid is stood there, wearing a black tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and with his black hair styled perfectly. His dark and dangerous gaze sweeps my body, and I swear I feel it. “Um…” I stutter. He moves swiftly and smoothly, stepping forward until my back is against the wall, caging me like I'm about to make a run for it.

His hand cups my face softly. “Kroschka, you look beautiful.” He growls deep from his chest, and leaning in, I think he's going to kiss me. My eyes flutter closed, the smell of his cologne is intoxicating, and the feeling of his soft lips brushing against mine only heightens my craving for him. “Soon,” he whispers then steps back. My eyes shoot open, and I immediately feel embarrassed.

“Uh, yes. Sure, but I can’t go anywhere. I can’t find my passport,” I state, pointing to the mess sprawled across the bed. His eyes flicker to the mess.

“No bother, you don’t need one tonight. You still can’t find it tomorrow, I will call my contact to sort one out for you. Now, come or we will be late,” he states calmly.

“You have contacts that can sort a passport?” I ask.

He just shrugs and takes my hand in his and leads me out of the room. I quickly reach for my bag as we go. Stepping out to the corridor, I see three men stood there, waiting for us. “Er, Kaid?” I ask.

“My employees,” is all he says as we walk into the elevator.

I try to move my hand, but his grip just tightens. “So, um, where are we going?” I ask nervously.

“You didn’t guess by the chip?” he asks, raising a brow.

“Well, I guessed a casino, but I thought it would be rude to just assume. I mean, I don’t know if you are taking me out for dinner before? I was being polite, something you should learn to be,” I snap, annoyed at his tone.

He glares down at me. Shit. “Um, I'm just saying that your tone can be a little shitty,” I mutter quietly.

“My tone is shitty?” he asks. His face is cold and threatening, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

I bite my bottom lip anxiously, praying for a way to escape. He places his thumb along my bottom lip, freeing it from my teeth, and he leans down by my ear. “Don’t bite that perfect plump lip of yours,” he warns. I inhale a shuddering breath, feeling hot all of a sudden. I don’t miss the glint in his eyes as he stands straight.

I'm still not sure if I made the right decision to come out with him tonight, but either way, I have a feeling it will be a night I shall never forget.

Twelve

Theia

“Three, black,” I call out for the roulette table, getting excited. Kaid just sits back, watching me––he is always watching me. I tried to purchase my own chips for gambling, but Kaid refused outright.

I look over at him and hold up my crossed finger, smiling. He doesn’t smile back, he just stands there, and his gaze is intense. There is still so much I want to ask him, I know absolutely nothing about him apart from that everyone here seems to know exactly who he is. It’s like he is royalty, which he isn’t. I may have googled him; well, you don’t exactly get much from googling Kaid from Russia.

“Congratulations, three, black,” the guy calls.

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