Page 47 of Corrupt: XXX Vadim 2
A dangerous fantasy to indulge for sure. One that seems more impossible to attain when tiny footsteps allude to the figure who prances into the kitchen.
The second I see Magda decked out in her riding outfit, my heart breaks. I can barely muster up the strength to meet her gaze, especially as her lips part into a rare, fleeting grin.
“Can we ride my pony now?” she asks. Her eyes excitedly scan the kitchen, presumably for Vadim. And my heart splinters all over again for them both.
“He had to go away on business, honey,” I say thickly. “I’m sorry.”
As if she inherited his internal emotional switch, her expression falls and hardens in a way that triggers a horrible sense ofdéjà vu. Just like Vadim, she knows how to erect a wall in a heartbeat, closing herself off.
“He’ll take you as soon as he comes back,” I insist, rising to my feet. “I promise.”
But he won’t be back anytime soon, I suspect—though I don’t have the heart to say it out loud. I saw it in his face. The pain of being away from her, even for a short amount of time. Whatever drew him away, might keep him all day again.
And something tells me that Magda knows that as well as I do. She spins on her heel, racing from the kitchen.
“Honey, wait!” I follow her up the stairs, wincing as the door slams in my face. I test the handle, finding it unlocked, but when I finally push the door open, she’s lying face down on her bed. Her shoulders shake though she’s overall silent. Her pale skin reddens, and I imagine her biting her lip as hard as she can to keep any noise inside.
“I’m so sorry, honey.” I sit on the edge of the bed and tentatively place my hand on her back. “I know you’re disappointed—”
“I’m not!” She wrenches away from me and snatches the helmet off her head, throwing it across the room. Then she glares at me, her expression so fierce I suck in a breath.
Until, she breaks. Before my eyes, she transforms from a mini, ice-cold Vadim into a seven-year-old girl whose hopes have been dashed. Tears spill from her eyes, and I can’t stop myself from snatching her into my arms. Boundaries be damned, I hold her even as she squirms until finally, she succumbs, sobbing openly against my shoulder.
“I know, honey. I know…” Helpless, I can only smooth my fingers down her back, letting her cry. A part of me suspects that this emotion has nothing to do with her pony and everything to do with something deeper. Something that makes her melt into my embrace, too exhausted to fight. I rock her, speaking reassurances that I doubt she even hears.
Eventually, I coax her into pulling back enough for me to see her face.
“How about we go pet your pony?” I suggest, wiping away some of her tears.
Her eyes blaze. “No!” She lunges from the bed, storming into a corner, her arms crossed.
“Okay.” Sighing, I start to follow her only to change tact and enter her closet. “Let’s go for a walk instead, hmm?” I take my time picking out the clothing I suspect were her favorites from our shopping trip. The red dress. The black faux fur stole. It doesn’t matter if they’re too extravagant, I help her dress in them as she allows me to stiffly manipulate her limbs, her expression blank.
I gingerly brush her hair and arrange her curls behind a red headband. Then I take her hand and lead her downstairs for a quick snack before we step out onto the terrace. It’s a relatively beautiful day, though the sun is hiding behind a screen of overcast. Still, it’s warm enough out, and a gentle breeze enhances the natural beauty of the property.
“Do you want to swim?” I ask, pointing to the pool.
Magda shakes her head, her wall still in place. She doesn’t even show interest when I take her past the partially done playground and suggest she try out the jungle gym. It’s only when we near the water’s rocky edge—where a grunting Ena is adjusting the docked rowboats—that any semblance of curiosity shapes her otherwise flat expression.
Like a shark sensing blood, I latch onto the potential diversion. “Would you like to see if we can go out onto the water?”
After a second, she nods, and I nearly drag her over to Ena.
Forcing what I hope passes for a charming smile, I try to meet his gaze as he wrestles with a length of rope, securing it to a post on the dock.
“Mr. Vadim gone,” he says gruffly before I can say a word. “All day.”
“Do you think you could take us out?” I ask. I have to physically stop myself from batting my eyelashes in the hopes of cajoling a yes.
His lips part to deliver what I suspect is an automatic no. But then he makes the mistake of looking at Magda and something in his surly expression cracks.
“Okay.” He sets his rope aside and lumbers into the boathouse, returning with two orange life vests. “You put on.” He shoves the preserver at me but stoops into a crouch and takes his time assisting Magda. She stiffens, but gradually submits to his surprisingly gentle instruction.
The moment we’re sufficiently dressed, Ena steps into one of the boats and helps us down from the dock. Taking up both oars, he sets us off while I settle in beside Magda.
That logical, nagging part of my brain picks up again, warning me against letting her sit too close—I don’t move. But I should pull away when she nestles into me, shivering against the cooler air over the water. I shift an inch, putting space between us only to put my arm around her a heartbeat later. That little act of rebellion is the gateway drug to crossing even more boundaries. I smooth back her fluttering curls and stroke away one of the final tears as her expression brightens.
Even Ena seems to fall under her spell, and he keeps his pace steady, steering farther out into the bay. Eventually, her blank mask cracks, revealing genuine excitement beneath as she scans the shores and gentle roving waves.
