Chapter 17

Kimberly

A fter sex with Yaroslav last night I immediately rushed to my room and went straight to bed. Thankfully, I didn’t bump into anyone on the way. I didn’t want my ‘walk of shame’ to have any witnesses. I had wanted everything that happened when we were having sex, and yet I couldn’t help feeling a little conflicted about it. Yaroslav had been so different, so dominating, almost dangerous. As the thrill and excitement of the encounter wore off, I was left feeling confused. I liked the rough sex, more than I could have imagined I would, but would Yaroslav want it to be like that every time? I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. Despite my turbulent thoughts and mixed emotions about the evening, I fell into a deep exhausted sleep.

As usual, I’m woken by Alheri bringing me breakfast. Yaroslav usually works in the mornings, and I prefer to eat in my room if I’m dining alone.

“Come in,” I call out, hopping out of bed.

Alheri comes bustling in, “Good morning, Miss Kimmy, how did you sleep?” she says, heading straight over to the table and placing down the breakfast things.

“Well thank you, Alheri, how are you today?” I reply, padding across the room barefoot still dressed in only the thin silk negligée I sleep in. Alheri’s seen me in it before and is always unfazed by it, I feel comfortable around her enough now to not worry about getting dressed before she arrives.

It’s only now that she turns to look at me. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaims, throwing a hand to her mouth and widening her eyes as she takes in my appearance.

I glance down at myself in confusion, wondering if I’m naked or something and have inadvertently offended her. I catch sight of a bruise at the top of my thigh as well as bruises and bite marks on my arms, and these are just what I can see without a mirror. If the other places that Yaroslav roughly handled me are similarly marked, I must look like I’ve been attacked by a wild animal.

“Did he do this to you?” she asks, her voice righteously angry and concerned.

“Yes, but…” I start to explain.

She shakes her head, “He is a bad man. You should stay away,” she whispers, her eyes fearfully glancing over at the door as though someone could be listening.

“No, you don’t understand. Yaroslav didn’t hit me or anything, it wasn’t like that. It was consensual. He just got a bit… carried away,” I explain.

“No, you are the one who doesn’t understand Miss Kimmy, he is a dangerous man,” she insists her voice quiet and hurried, she seems genuinely fearful of him.

Now I’m concerned about what she knows. How well do I really know Yaroslav? Could he be some kind of abuser, and this is just how he starts? Sure, I consented to everything last night, and enjoyed it, more than I care to admit to myself, but he was rough. I have the marks to prove it. Would he have acted differently if I wasn’t enjoying it? He seemed so unlike his usual composed self yesterday. Clearly, he was upset, angry even. Should I be afraid of him? Was I wrong to trust he wouldn’t hurt me?

“What do you mean?” I ask, afraid to hear the answer.

“I’ve said too much already,” she says, her eyes darting over to the door again.

“Alheri, if he’s so bad why are you here? Do you need help?” I ask, concerned for my new friend.

“Because I know too much, I can’t leave. I don’t need help, this is a good job. Mr. Volkov is kind to those who are loyal. People who speak out, who snitch, they disappear. I worry you will do this. You ask too many questions, you’re too honorable, and that is dangerous for you. Don’t speak to the police,” she warns.

“Police? Alheri what are you saying? I’m not going to the police, I told you, Yaroslav didn’t do anything to me,” I say, even more confused.

“Good, that is good, that is what you must tell people. I have to go now. Forget I said anything. Promise me you won’t tell him what we spoke about?” she asks her eyes pleading.

“I promise,” I say with a nod as she scuttles out of the door, leaving me feeling bewildered.

Based on her bizarre reaction, I’m almost afraid to look at myself in the mirror. But I decide to get it over and done with. I head to the bathroom and strip off, standing in front of the full-length mirror.

I don’t look great. No wonder Alheri was freaked out.

My whole body is covered in bruises and bite marks from where Yaroslav grabbed me. I feel sore between my legs and my throat feels tight. At the time, it hurt sure, but not badly enough that I expected to look like this today. I feel ashamed of how much I enjoyed how rough he was, and how empowered I felt to make him lose himself like that. The pleasure felt even more intense combined with the pain. God help me I wanted more.

Now, in the cold light of day, I don’t know how to feel. Should I feel ashamed? Used? Afraid?

My appetite gone, I decide to take a long hot bubble bath to try to relax and think about things. After last night and Alheri’s strange warning, should I even stay?

Once the bath is ready, I pop some relaxing music onto the speaker system and climb in. The calming smells of vanilla and patchouli, combined with the perfectly warm bubble bath soothe my tired muscles. I lean back and close my eyes, allowing myself to think over my time with Yaroslav so far.

Even after last night, I don’t feel afraid of him. I trust him. I feel drawn to him, as though there’s an invisible tether pulling me back to him every time I consider moving away. There’s a connection there that I’ve not felt before, and I know it isn’t just the money that’s keeping me here. I do not doubt that he’d let me go if I asked, that he wouldn’t expect me to pay him back.

There’s a knock at my door, I assume it’s Alheri or one of the other maids and that they will go away if I don’t answer. They knock again, a little louder this time so I call out.

“I’m in the bath, doors closed if you need to come into the bedroom.”

I hear the bedroom door opening and closing, some movement in the room, and then another knock, this time at the bathroom door.

Weird. I just said I’m in the bath. Surely Alheri or any of the others would know to give me privacy.

“Kimmy, it’s me,” I hear Yaroslav say quietly outside the door, answering my inner question. “I was hoping I could talk with you,” he adds when I don’t reply.

I contemplate getting out, but decide against it, knowing Yaroslav he’d likely come barreling in while I’m halfway out the tub and I’ll do something mortifying like slipping and falling butt naked onto the floor.

“Come in, door’s unlocked.”

He opens the door and enters, looking surprised when he sees that I’m in the bath. I can see the immediate appreciative sexual desire that flickers in his gaze as he looks at my body, even though my nakedness is mostly obscured by the bubbles. He immediately averts his gaze, seeming to internally chide himself for staring and getting horny.

“Sorry, I can come back later,” he says with an awkward cough, uncharacteristically shy.

“Yaroslav, you’ve seen and fucked every square inch of me, I think you can see me in the tub,” I say with a small smile, rolling my eyes.

“Right, yes,” he says, looking at me again. It’s then that he notices the bruises on my arms.

He frowns and comes over closer, kneeling down beside the tub. “I did this to you?”

“It looks worse than it feels,” I say softly, watching his handsome face looking anguished as he carefully inspects the visible marks.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” he says, his voice trailing off as he tries to find the words.

“I know, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything I didn’t consent to. Or enjoy…” I add shyly.

He shakes his head, “I shouldn’t have let myself lose control like that.”

“Yaroslav, I’m fine,” I insist, now fully believing the words in the face of his remorse.

He looks as though he’s going to argue otherwise and continue beating himself up, so I gently cup his chiseled jaw in my hand and tenderly kiss him. He stiffens for a moment, not trusting himself before softly kissing me back. Despite how sore I am, my body aches for him and I long for him to touch me. I kiss him harder, but he breaks away.

“You must be sore. Today you rest,” he says, I can tell from his tone that I will have a hard time convincing him otherwise.

“Fine, bossy,” I tease, “Then quit distracting me and let me wash my hair.” Usually I’d leave my braids in for a few weeks, but given the loose style of them and the rough sex last night, they’re messy and ruined, so I may as well wash it out and go back to my natural curls.

“I could do it for you,” he suggests, grabbing the shampoo. “No funny business, I promise, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it, but sure,” I reply with a smile.

“Lean back and close your eyes,” he instructs, squeezing some shampoo into his palm.

I do as I’m told, and he begins to wash my hair, massaging my scalp and shoulders as he does so. His touch is so gentle and caring it’s hard to align this Yaroslav with the one last night. He works in silence for a while, and we both relax into the task. I can hear his steady breathing and smell his rich, masculine scent that’s already so familiar to me.

“Yaroslav,” what made you so angry last night? “Was it really because I spoke with another man? I didn’t think that I wasn’t allowed to have harmless conversations, I swear it was nothing more,” I ask gently, trying to keep my voice calm and non-confrontational, not wanting to sound accusatory.

He sighs, “You’re right, it wasn’t just you talking to him, though I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admits with a grunt.

“Then what was it?” I press softly.

“I haven’t seen my sister in a long time, I wasn’t expecting her to be there. It… caught me off guard,” he says cautiously.

“You don’t like surprises,” I say with a small smile.

“No. I do not,” he admits, with a little mirth in his voice.

He falls silent for a moment, focusing on rinsing my hair and massaging in the conditioner next. “How is she?” he asks, sounding almost surprised to be asking me.

I ponder his question, wondering how to answer. “She seemed… sad I think. It’s clear that her husband loves her a lot and she loves him too, but it’s almost as though she’s…”

“She’s what?” he asks.

“Lonely,” I finish. “She asked about you a lot, her eyes lit up when she spoke of you and David. She misses you,” I add, worrying I’m overstepping.

“Hmm…” he says, but he doesn’t respond, and I don’t push him to.

After rinsing my hair clean, he says, “All done. Ready to get out?”

“Yes,” I admit reluctantly, not wanting the intimate moment to end but the water is getting cold.

He gets up, grabbing a huge, white, fluffy towel and holding it up. He holds out a hand, helping me to step out of the tub, his face once more looking pained as he notices the other bruises that were hidden underwater before as he wraps the towel around me.

As we walk into the bedroom, I spot a box on my bed. “What’s that?” I ask, walking over.

“I figured you needed a new one since yours is broken,” he replies as I notice the logo on the box. He’s brought me a brand new, top-of-the-range iPhone.

“You didn’t have to do that…” I say, uncomfortable that he’s spent yet more money on me.

“No, but I wanted to,” he says. “Besides, I want to be able to call you when I’m out. And once you’ve gone…” he adds sheepishly.

I grin at him. “Thanks, I’d like to stay in touch too.”

He smiles back at me. “Eat, and get some rest,” he instructs me, adding, “I’ll have someone bring you up some painkillers.”

“I will,” I promise.

He nods, seemingly satisfied. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later. My number is already programmed into the phone, as are Artem’s and Vova’s, call one of us if you need anything,” he says, kissing me chastely on the top of my head and leaving.

While I dig into some breakfast, toast, coffee, and some fresh fruit, I power up my new phone and peruse it. As well as the three numbers Yaroslav mentioned, there’s also my Gran’s care home saved. I sync it up to include my old contacts too before dropping Amelia and Abigail a text to let them know this is my new number. A moment later, there’s a knock at my door, it’s one of the other maids delivering some painkillers. It seems Alheri is avoiding me. In truth, I’m grateful. I know I will need to speak to her, to explain that Yaroslav isn’t some monster, but I don’t want to deal with that right now. I appreciate her looking out for me, though, even if she is mistaken about Yaroslav.

Swallowing a couple of the pills, I decide to climb into bed and read. Yaroslav said he’s going to be gone for the day and to relax, and for once I have nothing to do, so I’m going to do just that.

I must have nodded off, because the next thing I know I’m being awoken by an unfamiliar ringtone. It takes me a few moments of half-awake confusion to realize it’s coming from my new phone.

“Hello,” I answer, my voice groggy with sleep.

“Kimmy!” I hear Amelia’s voice shrieking on the other end, “Finally, you got in touch, I was starting to get worried. Are you okay? You sound strange.”

“Hey Amelia, I’m fine, I just nodded off so I’m still half-asleep,” I reply, sitting further up in bed.

“Asleep? In the middle of the day? That doesn’t sound like you’re fine. Are you sick? You and Yaroslav left the party so quickly last night, we didn’t get a chance to catch up,” Amelia peppers me rapidly with questions.

“Really, I’m fine. I’m staying with Yaroslav for a while and taking some time off work. I was just reading and accidentally nodded off,” I explain.

“Hmm, you sure sound like Kimmy, but you can’t be, my Kimmy never takes time off work, let alone moves in with a man she’s just met!” Amelia teases.

“Haha, very funny,” I reply sarcastically.

“You must be smitten to drop everything for some guy, what about your Gran?” she asks, now serious.

I bristle at her accusation, she knows how much I do for Gran and how hard I work. Why can’t she be happy for me that I’m finally getting a break instead of judging me?

“I haven’t dropped everything and Gran is well taken care of. She’s staying in the best care facility in the city to recover and I’m visiting her often,” I reply testily, before adding, “And Yaroslav isn’t just some guy .”

I regret the words as soon as they come out.

“Oh, so it’s serious then, this fling with a rich older man? Not that I can blame you…” she says wistfully.

“No, it’s not serious. I’m just having some fun, it’s just a fling, like you said,” I reply, not sure if I believe what I’m saying but not wanting to admit to Amelia or myself how much I’m falling for him.

She can’t stop herself from asking with a giggle, “At least tell me that he’s good in bed.”

The girlish way she says this reminds me of our teenage years, hanging out in our rooms, chatting over boys, our first crushes, kisses, and sexual experiences. I can’t help but smile.

“Yes, we’ve had sex and it’s great,” I admit, grinning.

She squeals with delight. “Tell me everything! What’s he like?”

“He’s definitely different to any other guy I’ve been with.”

“Different how?”

“Well, we’ve done stuff I haven’t done before. He’s very in control and he always makes sure I cum at least once before he does, usually more,” I admit, feeling a bit smug.

“Ooh! You lucky thing, if you don’t want to marry him I will!” she cackles.

“Oh my god, Amelia, we are nowhere near close to talking about marriage!”

“Well, I’d snap him up if I were you, if you can. You could do a lot worse than Yaroslav Volkov. A hot sugar daddy is a rare thing, but a hot rich husband is even better,” she replies. “So, where did you two disappear to after the party? I lost you,” she adds.

“We came home early, we were tired,” I lie.

“Sure, tired…” she says with a smile in her voice, not so subtly suggesting she knows exactly what we were up to. If only she knew just how kinky it was, she’d be shocked.

“You said your Gran is staying at the best care home in town, I assume you mean Shady Trees?” she asks, mentioning the best government-funded place.

“No actually, Yaroslav insisted on putting her in Greenacre,” I reply. I know she’ll read into this, it’s the most elite private care home in the city and way out of my price range, god knows how much it’s costing Yaroslav.

“Wow. That place doesn’t come cheap. He must be seriously into you if he’s spending that kind of dough and you’re living with him already,” she replies.

“It’s not like that, Amelia, it’s… complicated. I barely know anything about him, let alone whether or not I’d want a relationship with him,” I say with a sigh.

“Hmm… he is a notoriously aloof billionaire, that’s for sure. No one even really understands what he does, or how he’s so rich. He’s relatively new on the scene and keeps under the radar. I’ve never heard of him dating anyone seriously, not for lack of many women trying. Are you sure you can trust him? He could have his pick of rich eligible, beautiful women. No offense Kimmy, you know I think you’re gorgeous, but relatively speaking, to a man like Yaroslav Volkov, you’re a nobody. Do you trust that his motives for inviting you there are honest?” she asks in concern.

I can’t blame her, she’s just looking out for me, and it’s not like I haven’t asked myself the same exact questions. I don’t know why, but I hold back from telling her the truth. Aside from the NDA, I just feel reluctant to tell her. No doubt she’d worry even more, and I think she’d get the wrong idea, thinking that this is all about money, that I’m some sort of gold digger or escort.

So, instead, I briefly reply with the only truth she needs to know, “Yes, I trust him.”

Amelia knows me well enough to tell when I’m done with a conversation, she senses she won’t get any more gossip out of me. “Good.”

Before she can ask any more probing questions, I make my excuses. “Sorry Amelia, I gotta go. We’ll talk soon.”

“Sure, look after yourself. Don’t go disappearing on me again, I want to know everything about your little romance!” she trills.

I don’t bother to reply to that. “Goodbye Amelia,” I say before hanging up the phone.

I check my messages and see that I’ve got one from Abigail, telling me that she’s been to visit Gran and assuring me everything is fine, I must enjoy myself and not worry. With that in mind, I try to do just that.