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It really was; the ravioli melted in my mouth, and the sauce was so good I could almost moan.
“Spasibo,” she winked.
Suddenly, Volk checked his phone and stood up so abruptly that his plate tipped over, spilling its contents onto the table. He muttered something in Russian to Marina before storming out of the room.
Marina sighed deeply. “Don’t mind him. He can be a real pain sometimes, but deep down, he means well.”
For a while, the room fell silent, Volk’s footsteps echoing down the hallway. I couldn’t shake the knot in my stomach at Marina’s words.
What did she mean by that? And why does he act so… strangely tonight?
But then, another question popped into my mind, and before I could stop it, it slipped out.
“Are you and Volk dating?” I blurted.
Marina refilled her glass with whiskey, avoiding my question.
Instead, she steered the conversation toward Igor, my father. His name made me flinch, and I swallowed hard before responding.
“I don’t remember much from my childhood,” I admitted, barely above a whisper. “I was just told that he passed away when I was still a child. I don’t … even know his real name.”
Marina nodded, her eyes distant. “What about Volk? What do you know about him?”
“Other than him being a psychopath?”
Marina chuckled as she refilled our glasses with whiskey.
I took a sip, feeling the burn down my throat.
“Volk is complicated,” Marina said, swirling her drink. “But he’s fiercely loyal to those he cares about. That includes you.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Me? Why?”
“Because of your father,” Marina explained simply. “Volk brought you here because Igor asked him to. That’s why he won’t let any harm come to you.”
My papa asked Volk to kidnap me?
My stomach turned. “And what about you? Why are you here?”
Marina’s gaze locked onto mine, revealing her striking blue eyes adorned with long lashes.
Gosh, this woman is absolutely beautiful.
She stood up, carrying Volk’s glass with her, and walked over to the large window. As she gazed outside, she suddenly turned back to me and asked, “Have you ever heard the tale of Avelina Biklavana?”
I shook my head, intrigued. “No, I haven’t.”
“Avelina was a beautiful young woman who lived in a small village on the edge of a vast forest. She had long golden hair and eyes as green as the leaves on the trees. Her parents were poor, so she spent her days gathering berries and mushrooms from the forest to sell at the village market.”
Marina paused, her gaze distant.
She then sighed and crossed her arms. “One day, as Avelina wandered through the forest, she stumbled upon a clearing she had never seen before. In the centre stood a tall tree, and beneath it was a handsome prince. Lost and alone, he had been wandering for days, searching for a way out. Avelina, moved by his plight, offered to help him find his way back to his kingdom.”
As she spoke, I saw a flicker of pain in her eyes, as if the story was awakening old wounds. I listened closely as she continued with the tale of Avelina and the prince, and the love that bloomed between them.
“The prince was deeply grateful for her kindness and promised to repay her. Avelina asked for nothing but his friendship, and they fell profoundly in love as they strolled hand in hand through the forest.”
Marina returned to the table, refilled her glass, and drank the liquor in one gulp. “But the prince’s kingdom was far away, and he knew he couldn’t stay with her forever. He vowed to return soon, and Avelina waited patiently.”
