Page 29 of Tainted Empire
“Got it, no matches,” I reply, my tone light but my resolve steel-hard. This isn’t just about settling a vendetta anymore; it’s about protecting the people I care about, Gabriette most of all.
He gives me a sharp nod, the patriarch once more. “Go on, then, get back home. When Kaius calls, we need to be prepared for whatever comes our way.”
As I leave the office, I can’t help but feel the weight of what’s unfolding. Calling in a favor from Kaius Tulvan is no small thing. It’s a sign of desperation, a move that could have far-reaching consequences.
But it’s necessary. Whoever is behind this vendetta, they’ve made it personal. And in our world, personal debts are settled in blood and secrets. Kaius might just hold the key to unraveling this whole mess.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, my mind already racing with plans and contingencies. “Let’s see what Kaius Tulvan brings to the table.”
The game is on, and I’m not playing for anything less than blood.
Chapter 17
Gabriette
The day at the archives had been long but incredibly inspiring. After listening to Devon play again and getting more insight into who he is, I headed straight to the archives.
Amaranthe’s solos, her unfinished melodies, they spoke to me in a language only musicians understand. It was like she was communicating across time, imbuing me with new ideas, new energy for my own music.
As I enter my bedroom, my mind still swirling with cello notes and haunting harmonies, I’m brought to a sudden halt.
Two large boxes sit prominently on my bed, accompanied by two smaller ones. Raising my eyebrow, I approached them cautiously, my eyes catching a note propped against one of the boxes.
It’s from Mikhail.
My heart skips a beat as I pick up the note, his familiar handwriting igniting a flurry of emotions within me. The words are tender, far more romantic than I would have expected from him.
“Malyshka, I hope these bring a smile to your face. Inside these boxes, you’ll find something for our evening together. I want tonight to be a reminder of us, of what we could be again.
I’ll see you at 8, beautiful.”
A warm smile lights up my face as I read his words. I’ve been so wrapped up in the archives that I forgot about our date!
Eagerly, I open the larger box to reveal a stunning red dress. Its simplicity speaks volumes, yet it’s breathtakingly elegant. It’s the kind of dress that doesn’t just catch the eye – it captivates the heart. Alongside it, in the second box, are a pair of sleek black heels, their design both classic and chic.
In the smaller boxes, I find a dainty diamond necklace and matching earrings. Their sparkle is understated yet exquisite, the kind of jewelry that doesn’t scream for attention but rather whispers of elegance.
Running my fingers over the smooth fabric of the dress, I can’t help but feel a surge of appreciation. Mikhail’s choice is impeccable – it’s as if he still knows me, understands what I’d feel beautiful in.
I glance at the clock, realizing time is ticking away. Picking up the red dress, I start getting ready, my heart racing. It’s been so long since we’ve shared anything remotely close to a romantic evening.
As I slip into the dress, it hugs my form perfectly, as though it was made just for me. The heels add just the right touch of sophistication. Finally, I clasp the necklace around my neck and put on the earrings, completing the look.
I take a deep breath, steadying myself. Tonight is more than just a dinner date; it’s a step towards something unknown, a path that could lead us back to each other or further apart.
Will this evening rekindle the connection we once shared? Can we find a way through the hurt and rebuild what was lost?
Ready, I take one last glance in the mirror. The woman staring back at me is a blend of strength and vulnerability, clad in a dress that symbolizes hope. With a final check of my appearance, I head downstairs, ready to face whatever the evening has in store.
As the clock ticks closer to 8 PM, I can’t seem to keep still. Pacing back and forth in the living room, I keep glancing at the clock, each minute feeling like an eternity. The dress feels almost too elegant, too perfect.
Did I overdo my makeup? I wonder, second-guessing Mikhail’s intentions behind the dress.
“Get a grip, Gabriette,” I mutter to myself. It’s just Mikhail, the same man I’ve known, albeit now with a drastic haircut. But then again, it’s not just Mikhail. It’s the man who’s been both my heartache and my heartbeat.
The house feels unusually quiet, almost eerily so. In the kitchen, I stumble upon a note from Lee, casually mentioning she’ll be home late. I can’t help but chuckle, realizing this must be part of Mikhail’s plan. That sly coordination between them adds another layer of butterflies in my stomach.
My stomach does somersaults as I think about seeing him again. What if things are awkward? What if we have nothing to say to each other? What if he doesn’t like the dress he chose for me?