The mild hum of the car's engine lulled me. I didn't know when exhaustion had finally claimed me, but when I woke, the world felt… different. Warmer. Softer.
Blinking, I sat up, disoriented. The soft caress of silk brushed against my skin. I looked down and froze.
A dress. Not the one I wore to the party, no not that. But the other one. The bodice hugged me like a second skin, intricate lacework winding over my chest like vines in bloom. The fabric flowed down in layers of ethereal tulle, catching the sunlight streaming through the car windows. It was white, pure and delicate, almost mocking the darkness that had become my life.
Something that was far more flashy for me.
I swallowed hard, fingertips grazing the fabric. When did this happen? Who had changed me? My cheeks burned at the thought.
"You're awake," low smooth voice pulled my gaze to him. I swallowed hard realising I was sitting on his lap.
Judas sat beside me, relaxed like a lion watching its target. He was no longer in the bloodied suit from earlier; now he wore a crisp white shirt, the top buttons undone, sleeves rolled up, exposing his forearms. He looked every bit the devil who would tempt and destroy.
Kyle sat across from us and I realised it was a limo, muttering under his breath as he fiddled with his phone.
"Did you…" I trailed off, motioning to the dress.
Judas smirked and leaned closer before putting me back on the seat. "You're welcome, ptichka." His fingers brushed a strand of hair from my face. "Are you tired?" He pushed his hand upon my neck and felt the beat of my pulse under his thumb.
I shook my head wondering the sudden change in him and my heart pounded as I looked out the window. The snow and cold of Moscow had vanished, replaced by rolling hills bathed in golden sunlight. Italy. We were here.
And somehow it felt nice. That cold… I didn't want to feel it again.
The car suddenly slowed to a stop, and my breath hitched as the gigantic mansion came into view.
It wasn't a house. It was a kingdom. Something I was expecting to see. Was this where he grew up? His home?
The sprawling estate mocked me with its antique and modern opulence. White marble columns framed the entrance, and vines crept up the sides, giving it an air of timeless elegance. The gardens stretched endlessly like a riot of colours and perfectly manicured hedges. A fountain stood at the centre as water cascaded like liquid diamonds.
"It's beautiful," I murmured before I could stop.
Judas chuckled and his hand glided around my waist with a possessiveness that moored me to him. "Trust me that's all it is."
I looked at him to find him looking at the mansion with a strange look in his eyes. Something heavy to speak of. I wanted to ask him what he meant. But I didn't know if I should.
My eyes landed on my reflection in the car's window and I swallowed hard. Why was it that every time I saw myself, I couldn't recognise my own self? I looked… pathetic… yet why his?
The driver opened the door and I quickly averted my eyes. I was again overthinking. Judas stepped out first, offering me his hand. I hesitated.
"Ptichka," his voice softened, yet the command was clear. "Come."
Taking his hand, I stepped out and the warm sun kissed my skin. For the first time in weeks, I felt its warmth, and it was both foreign and comforting. My gaze swept the ground as we walked up the steps.
Kyle trailed behind us, grumbling something under his breath.
Last time I met his parents… It wasn't ideal.
I wasn't so sure if this time would offer any semblance though. Meeting Judas's family felt like stepping into a lion's den, and now I was dressed like a sacrificial lamb.
The doors opened, and the cool air of the mansion greeted us. Marble floors gleamed beneath crystal chandeliers, and the scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air. The walls were adorned with artwork that looked older than time yet antique.
The luxury was suffocating for a poor girl like me.
Judas led me through the foyer and then to the living room which was larger than life. White polished furniture and leather couches stretched along the room. A sitting area, more expensive than my existing vases and large floor-to-ceiling French windows.
"Everything's ready," Kyle said looking at me. "Would you like to rest, Ms Rosewood? You must be tired after sleeping the whole flight."
I narrowed my eyes at him. Was he mocking me? I bit my tongue. I realised I didn't like him.
"Molotov." It was Judas who rumbled.
He snapped his eyes to Kyle with a flicker of warning. "Do not test me today, Molotov."
Kyle's expression didn't waver. If anything, he seemed amused by Judas's irritation. "Just keeping her on her toes," he replied, shrugging as if it he was used to it by now. "But if you'd rather I disappear, I'll head back to the compound."
"Go," Judas sighed.
Kyle gave a mock bow, "As you wish, Your Highness." With that, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
I fidgeted with my fingers. "His compound?"
Judas guided me to the couch. "Yes, he lives just beside the main house. Do you need something?"
I shook my head watching as he pulled out his phone.
Judas was texting and his attention went momentarily off me, but my thoughts wouldn't let me rest. I studied the way his fingers moved across the screen. Everything he did seemed deliberate. Why did I care so much about the way his brow furrowed, about the curve of his lips, the line of his jaw?
Why did I care that he hadn't looked at me since we'd sat down?
I fidgeted with my hands, my nails pressing into my palms. Was I that pathetic? Starved for his attention like some desperate, forgotten thing?
Before I could spiral further, I heard footsteps. Calm, deliberate, and unhurried, yet each one seemed to echo in the cavernous room, heavy with intent. I froze.
They entered.
Alexei Volkov was the first.
His presence hit like a tidal wave, overwhelming in its intensity. I recognized him instantly-the sharp cheekbones, the dark eyes that seemed to pierce through me. His suit was tailored to perfection and though his hair was streaked with grey, it only added to his commanding aura.
It made me embarrassed thinking about what happened the last time we met.
And then there was Rara. She barrelled into the room, her hair dishevelled and her face flushed as if she'd run a marathon. Sweat glistened on her brow, and her wide eyes darted between Judas and me.
I scrambled to my feet with my hammering heart.
She huffed as her eyes locked onto me for a split second, softening slightly, before darting to the other men who followed.
Killian Schmidt and Ralph Romano.
I'd heard stories about them, whispers that sent chills down spines. But seeing them… it was something else entirely.
Killian was the broader one. His eyes-an eerie, icy blue-seemed to see too much, like he was peeling back every layer of my soul with a single glance. His smile was disarming, almost kind, but there was something deadly beneath it, coiled like a viper ready to strike.
Ralph, on the other hand, was the quiet storm. His green eyes were darker and colder, and they fixed on Judas with an intensity that made my stomach churn. His jaw was set, his expression unreadable, but the air around him crackled with restrained violence.
Both men were tall, broad-shouldered, and exuded power that didn't come from their suits but from something deeper. They were in their late fifties, yes, but they looked no older than their early forties, save for the silver streaks in their dark hair.
Killian spoke first slightly and stepped forward with a deadly charming smile. "I see… what emergency kleiner Prinz had in Russia."
(Little Prince.)
Ralph said nothing, his gaze shifted to me momentarily before returning to Judas. His lips pressed into a thin line.
Judas rolled his eyes, leaning back onto the couch as if their presence didn't affect him in the slightest. "Can we skip the introductions? It's not like you don't know already."
Killian chuckled. "You always did have your mother's tongue, Kleiner Prinz. Though as your parents, we need some explanation."
Ralph's eyes darkened further, and I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch, though whether in anger or amusement, I couldn't tell.
I stood there, rooted in place, unsure of what to do. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, and I fought the urge to shrink under their gaze. The room felt suffocating, the air heavy with unspoken words and barely restrained power.
Judas finally looked at me. "Relax, ptichka," he sighed bored. "They won't bite."
Killian's smile widened. "It's not her you should be worried about, Prinz. Your father's been quite worried ever since... last night."