Chapter 21 "This is your school?" Vesper gapes, practically tumbling out of the passenger window like an overeager golden retriever with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. "Get your head back in the car before you fall out," I snap, grabbing the hem of her white dress to pull her back inside. "You're going to break your neck." She doesn't budge. "It looks like something out of a fairy tale." "It's pretty awesome, right?" Luka points to the stone tower rising from the east wing. "That's where I take astronomy." "You take astronomy?" Vesper's voice hits a pitch that probably has her fellow goldens barking three blocks away. Christ. No wonder the kid was bouncing off the walls this morning when I told him Vesper was coming with us to drop him off. She acts like everything he says is the most fascinating thing she's ever heard. Though even I have to admit that Cordingly Prep is impressive. "Usually, only fifth graders get to take it," Luka explains, "but Uncle Kovan talked to Dean Thomas and he let me join." "'Talked to,'" Vesper mutters under her breath. "I bet he did." "What was that?" I ask her. She slaps on a fake grin. "Nothing!" Then, turning around to face Luka in the back, she winks and asks, "Are you sure this isn't Hogwarts?" "No!" Luka giggles. "They don't teach us magic here." "Well, they should. Life's too short not to believe in a little magic." Something tight loosens in my chest at the sound of her laugh mixing with his. I could listen to them chatter all day. After I park, we climb the eighteen marble steps to the entrance. The hallway stretches out before us, all black-and-white checkered floors and soaring ceilings. "How big is this place?" Vesper asks, her head tilted back to take in the architecture. "Two acres," I tell her. "Two pools, basketball court, tennis court, football field, track." She shakes her head in amazement. "No room for a Quidditch pitch, then?" "A what?" Her cheeks flush pink. "Sorry. Another Harry Potter reference." "Big fan?" "I used to be. Back when I had time to read." She sighs, suddenly melancholy. "My dad gave me the complete set for my eleventh birthday. Even included a fake Hogwarts acceptance letter." I raise an eyebrow. "You were excited about getting accepted to a fictional school?" "It was the best day of my life, as a matter of fact." "Even though you couldn't actually go?" "That's what imagination is for, Kovan." Vesper and Luka share a look and roll their eyes at me as if I'm denser than rock. Perfect. I've officially become the third wheel in this arrangement. Not that I can blame the boy. He's clearly inherited the Krayev men's weakness for falling hard and fast for beautiful women. "This is my classroom," Luka announces, stopping in front of a brightly decorated door on the left. Vesper peers through the small window. "God, it's huge. This room is bigger than my entire apartment." "Want to come in and meet my teacher?" Luka asks. Vesper turns to me, fidgeting with her dress and chewing on her lower lip in a way that's both coy and irresistibly sexy. "Is that okay?" "Of course. You should introduce yourself to the people in his life." I watch her try to adjust her neckline. "They need to get used to seeing you around." She tugs at the fabric and frowns. "I should have worn something else. This dress is too..." She gestures helplessly at her chest. "Too much." "You look fine." "I'm overthinking this, aren't I?" "Completely." "Will you come in with me?" There's a vulnerable note in her voice that makes me want to say yes. Actually, there's a vulnerable note in her voice that makes me want to drag her into the janitor's closet and show her that her white dress is not even close to enough. But I have other business to handle. "I need to see the dean. You can handle one schoolteacher." "Don't worry, Vesper," Luka interrupts, taking her hand. "I'll be with you." I stare at their joined hands, and something ugly twists in my gut. It can't be jealousy. There's no way I'm jealous of an eight-year-old boy simply because he gets to hold her hand whenever he wants. But watching them together, seeing how naturally she fits into his world, how easily he trusts her... Fuck, maybe jealousy is the right word after all. I force myself to walk away, down the hall to Dean Thomas's office. He's waiting for me outside his door in a Hermès suit and the ass-kissing smile he reserves for major donors. "Mr. Krayev! Always a pleasure." The man is practically drooling. Can't say I blame him. Every time I show up here, I write him a check. Library renovations, new equipment for the astronomy program, Christmas bonuses for the faculty. At this rate, they'll rename the place Krayev Prep. I couldn't be less bothered. Luka deserves the best. "Kenneth." I shake his hand just hard enough to remind him who's in charge here. "I'll make this quick. I'm doubling Luka's security detail. The guards will stay out of sight, but they'll need access to your security systems." His face goes pale. "I'm not sure I can authorize⁠-" The look I give him stops him mid-sentence. "Of course, Mr. Krayev. I'll brief our head of security personally." "One more thing. I need to add someone to Luka's emergency contacts." "Certainly. Name?" "Vesper Fairfax. She'll be in the pickup rotation along with myself, Osip, and Pavel." "And her relationship to the child?" "She's my girlfriend." The words come out easier than I expected. Too easy, maybe. Dean Thomas, to his credit, shows absolutely no sign of being surprised. "I see. I'll update his file immediately." I clap him on the shoulder. "Good man. Let me know if anything seems off." With that taken care of, I return back down the marble corridor toward Luka's classroom. Through the window, I can see him dragging Vesper around the room, showing her the science corner, the class hamster, some kind of rock garden by the windows. Her face lights up with every new thing he shows her. Pure, unbridled joy. Not faked, not a parent putting on a show for the child. Real. I can picture Yana in this same situation. It would be a litany of bored sighs, not-so-subtle eye rolls, cutting comments disguised as compliments. She has a gift for making people feel small without them even realizing what she's doing. Her own son is her favorite target, if only because her previous favorite is now dead. Vitalii used to tell me how she'd tear him down piece by piece, then act surprised when he felt like shit afterward. She called it honesty. I called it cruelty. Vitalii called it nothing until it was too late for him to start. Finally, Luka gives Vesper a hug and waves her toward the door. She steps into the hallway and jumps in fright when she sees me waiting. "Jesus! You're going to give me a heart attack." "Not until after I get custody. Then you can drop dead." She glares at me. "How romantic." I almost smile. "He seemed happy to show you around." "He's an amazing kid, Kovan. Really." "He gets that from his father." I'm surprised I manage to keep my face calm and my voice level. Thoughts of Vitalii usually make my throat tighten up in unspoken anger, festering anger, anger that's still found no outlet after all this time. "Luka showed me some of Vitalii's paintings this morning at the house," she says carefully. I stop walking. "He did?" "Yes. Said he wanted me to see them." Those paintings are sacred to Luka. He's never shown them to anyone outside the family. Not even Yana gets to see them anymore. "He must trust you," I say quietly. "He's starving for a mother figure," she says. "It breaks my heart." There's something in her voice, something soft and wistful that I can't quite read. But it does something to me, too, hearing her talk about Luka like that. Like she actually cares about him. "Thank you for coming this morning. I know you're busy." She waves me off. "It was part of our deal." That reminder hits me wrong, like a slap when I was expecting something softer. I shove the feeling down and lead her toward the SUV. The car sits high off the ground, so I help her climb in. Her dress rides up as she settles into the seat, revealing a stretch of pale thigh that makes my mouth go dry. Without thinking, I let the back of my hand brush against her skin. She shivers, and the sound goes straight to my cock. I rip my knuckles away immediately. Then, without making eye contact, I slam her door and charge around to the driver's side. I'm cursing myself with every step. I can't afford to want this woman. Can't afford to touch her like that, to think about what it would feel like to have those legs wrapped around my waist or what those lips would taste like, going soft and pliant beneath mine. But maybe that's exactly why I need to get her out of my system. Because the way I've been thinking about her, the way she's been distracting me from everything else... I can't afford not to.