Page 67 of Vas

Anna stared at herself in the mirror, marveling at the change. Gone was the long heavy drape of hair down her back and in its place was a light and airy curtain. She turned her head one way and then the other. “I love it.” She grinned at the woman. Even her bangs were still long enough to be pulled back away from her face. “Thank you.”

She texted Vas and waited anxiously for him to arrive, nervous he’d hate her hair.

She’d had nothing to worry about. He took one look at her, swept her into his arms and declared, “You look stunning,” before planting a kiss on her lips that left her a little dazed.

But that wasn’t all. If Anna had known what she would be getting into by letting Vas spoil her, she might have said no because their next stop was a dress boutique.

“See anything you like?” Vas asked after she circled the store.

Um… everything? She slid hangers along the rack in front of her, eyeing each dress, stopping to take a closer look at a blue velvet cocktail dress. She fingered the label, noticing it was her size.

“Can I help you with something?” a sales associate asked, walking up to them with a welcoming smile.

Anna snuck a peak at Vas. He stood with his arms folded across his chest, his attention on her and not the salesperson. He was leaving it up to her to answer the woman but Anna had a feeling if she didn’t respond soon, he’d take matters into his own hands.

Being decisive, she plucked the dress from the rack. “I’d like to try this on.”

The woman took it from her. “Wonderful. Please, follow me.”

Five minutes later, she stood in front of the dressing room mirror, having an internal debate. She loved the dress. Off-the-shoulder sleeves, cinched waist, and high-low hemline, and it also fit perfectly. But she’d made the mistake of looking at the price tag.

She heard a soft knock right before the door opened and Vas stuck his head in. “How’s it—” He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. “Fuck.” He stepped all the way in and shut the door.

“What’s wrong?” She looked down at herself, smoothing the skirt of the dress with her hands.

He captured her hands and pulled her against his chest. “Not a fucking thing and that’s what’s wrong.”

She looked up at him and shook her head with a chuckle. “I take it you like the dress?”

“Let me put it this way. I planned to take you out for dinner but looking like you do in that fucking dress, making my dick so hard it aches, we might not make it past the bed let alone to the restaurant.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders, ran them up to lock behind his neck. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she stepped into him, feeling the evidence of his statement. “But wasn’t that my idea in the first place?”

His head dipped and he whispered against her lips, “When you’re right, you’re right.”

Vas bought her the dress and even a pair of shoes to match but they never made it to dinner.

They ordered room service instead.

Chapter 23

Logging into the dark web, Vas pulled up his emails, his jaw locking when he saw yet another one from Maximo241. Opening it, he read the account of a grieving father’s love in words that Vas wouldn’t forget anytime soon. After being fed Rohypnol, his daughter had been attacked so severely, she never fully recovered—physically or emotionally. A student at Julliard, dancing had been her life. Complications after the attack had killed that dream. Six months later, his daughter in turn took her own life.

There was an attached encrypted file. Against his better judgment, Vas opened it and wished he hadn’t. A photo of a vibrant young womanfilled his computer screen. Not more than eighteen or nineteen, she was dressed in a sparkling leotard and holding a bouquet of red roses, posing for the camera with a big smile on her face.

Maximo had just made this shit real.

Fuck!

Teeth clenched, Vas typed out a reply, demanding half the payment in his account by the end of the week. Then he slammed his computer shut and threw himself back in his chair and glared at the closed screen, trying to rationalize his decision—the job was close by and he’d be away from Anya for only a few days. Not the best excuse, but one he could live with. Anya was secure in her new place, and their relationship was solid—she wouldn’t fault him for needing to take one last trip.

His gut tightened at that line of thought. The closer he and Anya grew, the more his deceit weighed on him. Rejecting all requests for his services the past few months had helped soothe his conscience and made it easy for him to sweep that concern under the rug. Agreeing to take this latest assignment made the lie he was living feel all too real, and he hated himself for it.

But he couldn’t tell her. No way in hell would he take the chance of losing Anya. Yana’s absence had left a hole, but the loss of Anya would destroy him. She was his whole world—the sweet he’d never thought he deserved, but once tasted, something he wouldn’t give up.

With the money from this last job, he could cut all ties for good, hang up his hat, and get serious about his restoration business. Anya would never need to know about his former life.

He could live with that.

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