Page 40 of Conquer
“Pretty,” I say, as she marches to my side, squeezing past Vadim. Reaching out, I stroke the gaudiest sticker—a pink unicorn bunny with big blue eyes. “Where did you get such swag, honey?” Call it a hunch, but they don’t quite seem like Vadim’s style.
She shoots her father a wary glance, but I can tell she’s bursting at the seams with this new secret. “Ainsley gave them to me,” she says, flashing that rare, ripe grin as she shows off her decked-out arm. “We had a sleepover.”
“A sleepover?” I feel my eyebrows shoot up as I glance at Vadim while seriously considering the fact that I may actually still be high.
He doesn’t meet my gaze, his frown surly, though as he looks down on Magda—and her obvious joy—his lips soften again. “A sleepover,” he concedes.
That’s it. Iamhallucinating. As quickly as I dare, I sit upright, making him face me. He looks on edge, as if I’ve caught him with his pants down. Or, even worse in his mind, I caught him at a moment when he’d been desperate enough to go to the one person he seems to hate more than anyone.
Solely for Magda’s sake.
“Francescawatched over her,” he finally admits. “And her siblings.”
But not the main, dominant member of that household—his brother Maxim. Not too long ago, he was out of the country. Could he still be gone?
Yet, the idea of Vadim crossing the invisible boundary between the property is a sight so unexpected—and at its core, so damn selfless, with such tender motivations—my heart almost can’t contain it.
“Can I go back tonight?” Magda asks. She’s curled up on his vacated chair, her gaze fixated on a drawing she’s in the process of scribbling with a red crayon. At a glance, she’s the picture of childish nonchalance—but her eyes betray her. Every few seconds, she glances hopefully at Vadim, her bottom lip dangerously close to a pout.
“Not tonight,ma chérie,” Vadim says, moving toward her to ruffle her hair. She deflates, but relents to his touch, her nose wrinkling. “We’re going to our new home tonight, remember? So that we can get it ready for Tiffany’s return.”
She nods, turning her attention to me. “No glass this time,” she says solemnly. But damn…
Much like Vadim, I sense she’s well versed in doublespeak—and my heart swells again. Literally.
A series of beeping machines goes off, and Vadim scrambles for a nurse. After checking my vital signs, she deems me no closer to dying than at any other moment throughout the day. Still, he’s frowning, unconvinced.
“You need rest,” he declares, brushing his lips over my forehead. “I’ll come back tonight after Magda’s in bed. Ena will watch over her this time. You’ll have three guards on you at all times. You’re safe.” He sounds so confident in that fact, but as he pulls away, I suspect his reassurances were more for himself than me. He looks so exhausted as the waning daylight casts shadows over his haggard features. Worn. And yet, as he hasn’t failed to do since her arrival, he swallows down any discomfort as he faces Magda.
“Let’s go,chérie,” he calls to her. “I’m sure Tiffany appreciates your many creations.”
As battered as he is, the man cracks a tired smile at the sight of her drawings scattered all over my side table. I spot one and reach for it, wincing with the effort.
“This is lovely,” I croon, glancing over a misshapen blob formed of black crayon that may or may not be an animal of some kind.
“It’s It,” Magda says seriously. She slips from the chair and gathers her belongings. Squished into the cushions of the seat behind her is a small white bear that she clings to even while juggling her pilfered art supplies. “He can protect you. From falling onto glass.”
I laugh, but when I look up from the page, her eyes… They bore into mine so fiercely I flinch. Oblivious, Vadim comes to relieve her of her artistic burden and heads for the door. “Let’s go.”
She follows him, but when she glances back, I nearly lunge from the bed to grab her, barely able to suppress a fierce desire to hold her in my arms until she never sports such an expression again. Fear. Raw, naked terror so potent I’m rendered silent in the face of it.
