Page 39 of Avidian
I walk over to the fireplace and lower myself onto the large stone ledge that juts out in front of it. The flames crackle softly, and I hold my hands out toward the heat, letting it thaw the lingering cold in my bones. My cheeks begin to flush as the warmth seeps into my skin, chasing away the frigidness from outside. Slowly, I start to feel human again, my fingers no longer stiff, my nose no longer icy to the touch.
Only a handful of minutes pass before the door opens again. I jump to my feet instantly, my body tensing. But it’s not Malachi who enters first.
It’s Marco.
He stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his presence filling the room like a storm about to break. My pulse quickens, and I try to steady my breathing as his sharp eyes rake over me.
“Katja,” he says with an undercurrent of something I can’t quite place. I have no idea what he knows or what’s about to happen, and all I can do is stand my ground.
Marco closes the distance between us, his movements deliberate, reaching out to undo the buttons of the coat—Malachi’s coat. My body tenses, frozen in place as his hands part the fabric, revealing the front of my gown. Blood stains the once-pristine dress, dark and glaring against the crimson fabric. Marco’s eyes harden at the sight, his sharp features tightening like a vice.
“Is it true what my son tells me? This man was forcing himself on you,” Marco says.
I nod, struggling to speak as Malachi steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. The sound feels deafening in the silence. I know how I must look—a mess, my hair disheveled, my face streaked with tears. It makes the story all the more believable.
Marco’s jaw flexes, the muscle ticking—a rare tell for a man who prides himself on control. He takes my chin in his hand, surprisingly gentle as he tilts my face up, studying me intently for a long moment. His dark eyes burn with something fierce, but I can’t quite decipher whether it’s anger, concern, or both. He lets go without a word and turns to Malachi.
“Stay in this room with her until I come back tomorrow. No one else enters,” Marco says. It’s an order, plain and simple.
“What are you going to do?” Malachi asks. It’s strange hearing someone question Marco. No one does that—not even me. But Malachi is his son, and the dynamic between them is clearly different.
“I’m going to take care of it,” Marco says, straightening his suit jacket with precise movements.
He strides toward the door but pauses before leaving. I think he might look back at me, but he doesn’t. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving the room suffocatingly quiet once again.
I glance at Malachi, who watches the door for a long moment before turning to me.
“This...isn’t exactly what I had planned,” he says quietly, running a hand through his hair.
I sit back down by the fire. “What is he going to do?” I ask, my voice trembling despite myself.
Malachi doesn’t answer right away, his eyes darkening as he sits in the chair across from me.
“It doesn’t matter what he does,” Malachi says, stretching his legs out with a casual ease. A small smile begins to play on his lips.
“What?” I ask, unable to decipher the shift in his mood.
“It’s… Damn.” He chuckles softly, shaking his head. “If you think about it, this night turned out perfect.”
“Perfect?” I repeat, staring at him as if he’s lost his mind. “Are you serious? Perfect is not even in the same universe as how I would describe this night.”
“Think about it, Kat,” he says, sitting forward, the smile still lingering. “We saved two people tonight—one of them someone you clearly care about. And not only that, but we’ve got the perfect alibi. My father thinks that man was attacking you, and I stepped in to stop it. Then I brought you straight here to keep you safe. No one will suspect us of anything.”
I stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to process how he’s finding a silver lining in this mess.
“Don’t you see?” he continues, leaning back in his chair. “It’s a small victory. My father’s trust in me will only grow after tonight, while Orin’s credibility is going to take a hit for not keeping an eye on you. And when they realize the victims of their precious silent auction have vanished, everyone else will be too busy pointing fingers to look at us. Marco’s word will protect us. We’re in the clear.”
I stare at him in disbelief. As messed up as it is, it is a win. A small, tenuous victory in the middle of this fucked-up night.
I shrug, letting out a long breath. “I can’t disagree with you.”
“See?” he says, the smug smile returning. “Enjoy the win, Kat. They don’t come around often enough in this kind of life.”
I roll my eyes but feel some of the tension in my shoulders ease as the reality of what he’s saying sinks in. This night might have been a disaster, but we’ve come out of it unscathed. For now.
He drops to his knees in front of me, and I instinctively lean back. “What are you doing?” I ask, eyeing him suspiciously.
He laughs softly, a sound that somehow makes me feel more on edge. “Relax, I’m going to run you a bath.” His hands are already undoing the straps of my heels, his touch surprisingly gentle as he slowly slides them off my feet.
