Page 20 of Valentine's Miracle

Sebastian is smitten with this man, and I should have known that when I first saw them together at the company conference room discussing details behind the closed door.

“I know. I have been there for ten phases in four years.” Victoria smiles, laughing gently under her breath.

The clashing of utensils and plates fills in the silence. I take another look at Vitoria. Her cheeks are pink, likely from the wine as she stands. We follow suit, I stick to her, and Sebastian sticks to him as our duty never stops even when nighttime falls.

The travel to the elevator is short, and I noticed that the hotel room reserved for Sebastian and Fyodor is near the top, five floors above ours and more towards the expensive side.

As the door opens, I step out first and look around the hall. It’s quiet as everyone had returned to their room for the night, only leaving the hall lights illuminating the doors.

“Sebastian, please go with Silas.” Fyodor holds the door open, and I immediately register the bad feeling in my gut. Sebastian has the same conflicted confusion as he questions why.

“Victoria and I must discuss a private matter.”

Victoria doesn’t object as she nods towards me. The dread in my stomach burns as my throat constricts. I don’t want her to go anywhere with that man, but I’m overstepping my boundaries if I tell her what to do.

“It’s alright, Silas. I will stay with Fyodor for the night. Don’t wait for me.” That is what she says, and it pisses me to no end.

I bite my tongue and nod in affirmation. Sebastian can only silently watch all three of us with that kicked puppy look on his face. His feelings aren’t the main concern as of now, but I wish he would say something.

Reflecting on that, I should have said something first as the door closes. What happened to being professional? Any other client, I would not have let them out of my sight to avoid any mishap.

“Well, I guess it’s just us homeboys for the night.” Sebastian sighs, groaning while he rolls his neck.

I turn away from the elevator doors, and it was harder than I wanted it to be, but it’s the harsh truth.

“Don’t call me that.”

He scoffs, “Fine, two single men five feet apart because—”

I dare him to finish that sentence when I raise a hand to smack the back of his head. He hollers in pain, and no one comes out to see what happened, but we feel everyone’s eyes on us through the peephole on the doors.

Nosy fucks, I think with a growl.

I open the door to our room, still somewhat clean even after Victoria had unpacked everything from her suitcase. I didn’t ask her to bring me anything, but she insists on it because she said she doesn’t want me to smell on the third day.

It’s clear that maid service had been here; the beds are made, and the bathroom is stocked with new towels. I scout the room out of habit, searching for cameras, microphones, and anything that could be a threat to Victoria.

Physically and privacy-wise. She’s still the one paying for this contract, and I’m not going to disappoint her with carelessness.

I take a shower first, scrubbing off today’s exhausting feeling away while angrily glaring at the wall with water running through my eyes. My thoughts fly to Victoria again, and I can’t help but wonder what the private matter is.

The main possibility is sex. That is a given because of the presence of a man and a woman in a hotel room, discussing private matters as an excuse, and making sure that no one bothers them by telling their bodyguards to leave them.

Another possibility is that they are having a business conversation or a private one depending on the content.

Fuming rage bites into my mind, and my fist connects with the wall before I can stop it, and a yelp of shock comes from the room where Sebastian is scrolling through his phone.

He’s no doubt stalking Fyodor on any media network. I haven’t heard his name before, but I rarely care about anyone unless it’s research on my clients before the job. A celebrity can walk into our company with their name and accomplishments printed on their clothes, and I wouldn’t be the wiser of their popularity.

As long as they aren’t difficult and pay me for the service, I couldn’t care less about what they do.

I get out of the shower; a scowl etched heavily on my lips as I rub my hair with the towel. It doesn’t dampen my frustration and the massively conflicted emotions raging through me.

When I walk out of the steaming bathroom, Sebastian holds his clothes in his hand and raises an eyebrow.

“We need to have a discussion about private matters too.”

“No.”

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