Page 69 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

Fate.

“Take care, Vitali.” My brother says with a look on his face that tells me just how much I mean to him. Shit. “And my nephew. Send little Wednesday my regards.”

Shaking my head at my asshole brother, I reply. “You too, Vlad.” With that, the screen turns black ending the call.

Just when Dorothy meets the witches on the screen there’s a soft knock on the door surprising me since it’s past midnight and before I returned to my room I made sure the mansion was secure and everyone was in bed.

“Come in.” I turn my head toward the door.

The door opens and there is the last person I expected to see standing at the door’s threshold with a doubtful look on her face. “You didn’t come down for dinner.” Her eyes travel from my face to my feet and back again as if she’s scanning for anything wrong. “Are you feeling well?” she whispers, pulling on my heartstrings. shit. This woman and her hold on me.

“I’m alright, love,” I tell her reassuringly. “Lost track of time.” I motion to the laptop on my lap.

Kadra shrugs and stands there for a moment that feels like an eternity to me, that I much rather have her lying next to me than so far away from my body. I’ve never been reckless and I’ve always prided myself on being patient. Good things take time after all and this woman right here is no exception but every hour I spend under her roof without her right where I want her—in my arms it’s driving me wild. I fear for my sanity. I really do. But as she stands there looking more beautiful than she did this afternoon in one of those satin robes that look exquisite on her and hugs all her curves, her hair bound in a tight and slick mid ponytail and her face rid of any makeup, I find myself savoring the long and agonizing moment. Then her pretty eyes move towards the TV and stay there. I followed her gaze to see that Dorothy is now talking with the lion. “Have you ever watched the Wizard of Oz, love?” I ask her and soon after her gaze leaves the movie and falls on me. I try really hard not to laugh when she gives me a ’what do you think’ look followed by a shrug but I fail. I laugh. Not in a mocking manner. Never. But because it’s just like her to look adorable while she’s sassing me.

Then something that feels a lot like magic happens.

Her eyes sparkle and just then my heart begins to pound like a wild animal trying to claw free of its cage.

Those whiskey eyes that I love so much are filled with joy and she does nothing to hide it. She lets me see.

Progress. That’s a whole lot of progress.

My sweet, sweet girl.

But just as soon as she notices my expression turn soft she makes a move to leave. Shit. Rising in bed, I ask her, “Stay.” Clearing my throat, I ask her when she pauses mid step. “I found the time and place for the Beauregard charity auction.” She turns my way again and her expression turns suspicious then it quickly changes to curiosity.

She quietly and very slowly nears the bed looks down at the screen of my laptop and then she just as slowly lowers herself until she’s sitting next to me in bed. I notice she put some distance between us which pisses me off but I understand. How could I not?

Her ugly cat, which obviously hates me, climbs up and sits between us as if the little asshole is keeping us apart.

“I’m not going to ask you how you found the information so fast because I’m in no mood for your cockiness, Russian.” She mumbles looking at me for a second too short and then looking at the TV screen. I can’t help but notice how her brows are pulled low as she takes in the scene. She’s never seen this classic. Did she ever do anything fun? Anything that brought her joy? Even my brothers and I in our poverty and struggles had good times. Fun moments that filled our hearts with joy when times were dark.

Did she have that? Something tells me no.

I quickly swallow the anger that rises when I think of her suffering and finding no joy out of life. It’s always fucked with my head. It always will. That’s why I won’t ever rest until everyone who ever hurt her dies a slow agonizing death at my hands.

“When is it?” Her sultry yet serious tone pulls me away from my murderous thoughts.

“Six days from today,” I tell her, waiting for her reaction. She’s been eager to find the kids just as much as me. But there’s something more.

That fucker Beauregard is number one on her shit list of that I have no doubt. Does her anger burn hotter for the father or his son? I wonder.

And why? I know the fuckers are the heads of a child sex trafficking ring but there has to be more. I won’t stop until I find out what.

She grows suspiciously quiet. Her face turns dark for a second before she speaks. “Perfect.”

Perfect indeed.

I need to find out all I can about both Beauregard. There has to be something I missed. I’ll get to the bottom of it sooner or later. But I will.

“She wants to go home?” Kadra suddenly asks as she falls back onto the bed next to me. Does she realize what she’s done?

Her smell takes over my senses and it is torturing the fuck out of me. All I crave now is to pull her closer to my chest to feel her skin on mine. Her warmth. Her heart beating.

While she looks at the TV, I look at her just as transfixed but instead of the movie because of her beauty. “She does.”

“Why?”

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