Page 18 of Room Nine: For Their Eyes Only

Elsa's a year older than Vivi and moved to New Orleans from California two years ago. I’m glad my girl found a friend so soon after she arrived. Leaving her home and family so suddenly must have been a difficult adjustment. It hurts my heart to think of her alone, fearing she’d be forced to forfeit her future happiness for her family’s ambitions.

This morning, I spoke to Boris, hinting that we were closing in on her location but refraining from sharing the entire truth. I’m not ready to tell him everything, and there’s no way I’m handing over the information without ensuring he’s not planning on betraying her.

He promised those rumors were false, and although I’ve never known him to be a liar, I can’t take a chance with her safety. I’d never forgive myself if I led her into the lion’s den, and I’ll call on the devil himself before I give her up to someone like Alexei Grinkov.

I won’t give her up to anyone.

She’s too precious.Too mine.

I watch her from across the street, wearing a Tulane University cap pulled tightly over my head and dark glasses that shield a third of my face. The cool morning air allows me to hide my physique behind an oversized jacket while I pretend to be engrossed in a book I purchased on the way here. While I sit outside, drinking, eyes glued to the coffee house across the street, my imagination works overtime. Loneliness can do that to a person.

A server ambles through a side door into the patio area, holding a tray with a single cappuccino. “Can I get you anything else?” He tips his head and places the cup on the wrought iron table in front of me.

A man drinking coffee looks far less conspicuous than a lonely loser sitting in the cold, keeping one eye focused on the girl across the street. I’m already on edge from watching her lush little body walking the streets of New Orleans, unable to hold her close or touch the object of my obsession. I don’t need any more caffeine.

As the server walks away, I adjust the volume on my earbuds and continue listening to Vivi and Elsa’s conversation. This is a blatant invasion of her privacy and has nothing to do with my assignment. Boris wanted me to find his daughter, not spy on her. He certainly didn’t ask me to jack off to the sound of her voice reading erotica. I’m a despicable man. But I’ll make sure not to charge him for those hours.

It wasn’t an easy task bugging her purse. I lucked out when she stopped in front of a flower shop to admire the pink and purple peonies on display. Vivi brought the bouquet to her face, inhaling the sweet scent before her face grew pensive and sad. I wonder what memories they conjure.

Does she miss her life? Does she miss home?

She’s young and undoubtedly feels lost in an unfamiliar place that wants to swallow her whole. It can’t be easy being a Volkov. She grew up with one of the most brutal men I’ve ever met, hovering over her shoulder, watching every move she made. He probably didn’t mean any harm. And he certainly didn’t mean to traumatize her to the point she no longer trusted him. Boris can be difficult when it comes to considering someone else’s opinion. Vivienne was vulnerable, and his protective nature made him want to guard her like the crown jewels.

As much as it pisses me off that he drove her to flee, I can’t say I would have been any different. That alone makes me take pause. She doesn’t need another overbearing man in her life, and I don’t know if I have the patience or strength to loosen the reins.

Vivienne tests my control. As much as it goes against my nature, I don’t want to watch her from a distance. I want to barge into her world, gift her with every peony in New Orleans, then declare my love and intentions.

She’d think I was a lunatic, and she’d be right.

I feel insane. It’s a familiar emotion I’ve felt in the past, often when I betrayed my moral compass and killed someone with questionable guilt. Men who pleaded for their lives and promised to do better.

That was a different kind of crazy. It took me to a dark place and changed the shape of my heart for the worse. I didn’t think I was capable of falling in love. I didn’t think I’d ever deserve it.

Vivienne altered that perception.

My madness for Vivi doesn’t frighten me. Considering who her father is, it should. But it doesn’t. It suits me perfectly.

Across the street, Vivi and Elsa’s conversation grows quiet. I know my earbuds haven’t malfunctioned because I hear the irritatingly annoying sound of metal clanking on ceramic. Someone is frantically stirring their coffee. I strain my eyes, struggling to get a clearer picture through the glass, and spot Vivi lost in thought, staring into space.

I’d love to know what or who she’s thinking about.

Elsa waves her hand across Vivi’s face and shouts, demanding her attention. Her high-pitched cry makes me shudder, and I remove a bud, rubbing my ear to soothe the pain. When I put it back in, I’m flooded with squeals and laughter concerning a particular policeman.

My mind spins with worst-case scenarios as I listen with intent, trying hard to focus on which voice is speaking and who exactly is banging their neighbor. I choke on my coffee, coughing as I muffle my ears with my hands, hoping to drown out the noise from passing tourists.

I breathe a sigh of relief when I hear Elsa’s distinctive voice detail her latest adventure to Club Sin, a sex club on the outskirts of town. The name instantly catches my attention, and I whip my phone from my pocket, scrolling furiously through my favorite search engine to verify the location. The logo takes me by surprise. It must be connected to the club in New York. My brothers and I are members but haven’t visited since early last year.

Vivi has no business going to a sex club. From this distance, I can’t make out her expression, but by the sound of her voice, I can tell she's intrigued. And why wouldn’t she be? It’s a fucking sex club. It would take a prude or someone on life support not to be curious about what happens inside.

That’s precisely the reason I applied for membership in the first place. Curiosity. Fascination with kinks. Exploring my strange proclivities and wondering how many others shared my desires.

It was eye-opening and fun. But it didn’t last. As much as I love a good time and testing my boundaries, boredom came faster than I anticipated.

To truly experience pleasure, you need trust, and trust takes time. I soon learned I didn’t want to spend unlimited time with a woman I didn’t love. It wasn’t long before Vadim and Viktor came to the same conclusion.

We want more than a playmate. We need a lover.

As I listen to Elsa invite Vivi to Club Sin, persuading her to throw caution to the wind and join her this evening, I update my membership and message my brothers.

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