Chapter 3

"Mjm—he mumbles without looking up."

The velvet curtains are stuck on the right side. I'm not tall enough to reach them; almost on tiptoe, I feel an inexplicable vapor behind my ear.

Roman raises his arm, pulls back the curtain in one swift motion, and closes the window.

But he doesn't leave.

I feel his breath on the back of my neck. A rich aroma of mint mixed with strawberries envelops my soul.

Something in him awakens an ancient and primitive instinct that I can't identify.

When I turn around, he's still there, staring at me. His eyebrow is split and his face is covered in bruises.

"Are you okay?" I ask, running my fingers over her eyebrow.

"Yes..." he says, withdrawing his hand and returning to his work.

I've no idea what I was thinking when I took such a bold step. My delicate fingers flew on their own, nervous at his touch.

Again, we say nothing. A captivating tranquility gradually settles in. The office gradually empties; the last discordant heels are heard at three o'clock. It must be Vanessa Reed.

"You can go!... Remember that I'll pick you up tonight... At eight o'clock."

"Mhm... Sure.—I barely manage a nod."

"Or... If you want... Stay a little longer and we'll go straight to my apartment. Don't worry, you can shower there and all that."

"No... No, it's better if you come by. It'll be clear tonight... There's a full moon," I whisper, barely audible.

I notice Roman's eyes widen in surprise. He looks at me nervously.

"Today... Isn't today March 19?" he stammers.

"No, sir... It's 20."

"It can't be!" he stammers, jumping in his chair.

"I remembered something... Will you teach me tomorrow? I've a crucial engagement today," he adds, adjusting his tie as if he were suddenly choking.

"Oh!... Okay, whatever you want."

"Well... Better... Okay... But I won't be able to pick you up. Should I call you a taxi?—he hesitates, complains, moves around erratically, and sweats profusely."

I don't understand the fuss over the invitation, but anything goes for me. In the end, I accepted.

"What could happen?" I think, still watching him scratch his head and nervously look around.

Roman spends the afternoon asking me questions, but he's so sexy that I don't refuse any of them.

Finally, the day is over. My work is over too. I pack everything up, say my goodbyes, and leave.

Doubts rain down on me like hardened raindrops: an avalanche of unanswered questions. But I prefer not to listen to that little voice trying to stop me from going to his apartment. With my father away, it'll be easy.

I feel like a teenager. I take my time showering and I'm a little embarrassed by the clothes I'm wearing.

At the back of the wardrobe is still that brown dress that Aunt Mabel gave me. It's daring: it reaches my thighs, leaves my back bare, and has a deep neckline.

I comb my hair, straightening it completely. Once straightened, it falls almost to my buttocks. A soft caramel tone on my lips and I'm done.

The taxi arrives with perfect punctuality. My nerves get the better of me, and a bead of sweat trickles down my bare back.

The night is beautiful. A huge, radiant moon illuminates every cobblestone in the narrow streets, and the icy breeze caresses my soul.

The taxi stops in front of a building almost as tall as the company. According to the address, I should go to the fifteenth floor.

When I arrive at apartment number twenty-two, a very tall guy in a tight black sweater opens the door for me. Along with the Roman numeral five tattoo, a series of large and small tattoos cover his skin.

The sweater is so tight that it shows off every muscle.

When I react, her eyes are no longer hazel. Brushstrokes of sensuality invade her irises, turning them as black as night.

He remains motionless and lets his gaze travel slowly over me, taking his time.

"Hello, Elara!... You look gorgeous... Come in, come in—she invites me, stepping aside."

"Thank you, Mr. Blackwood."

"Please call me by my first name... I'm Roman."

I step inside and sit down. The luxury overwhelms me: a huge television adorns the front wall, gilded lamps with white crystal flowers illuminate the ceiling, and the decor is exquisite. Everything is so refined, so high-class, that it's hard to breathe.

Roman seems to notice my discomfort.

"Sit wherever you like. I'll bring something to drink... Business is good and, well, we can afford a few luxuries. My father insists that one should enjoy the fruits of one's labor," he explains, disappearing behind the fine lace curtains.

He returns with a nice tray: a soda and some pancakes.

"I didn't know what you were drinking, so I brought you lemon soda and... Some candy."

"Thank you... I love sweets!" I reply, savoring a delicious pancake.

Roman is there, sitting on the sofa, watching me eat.

Fixedly.

When his eyes meet mine, she turns on her laptop.

The lamps radiate a vague and opaque light; only the brightness of the laptop is perceived on our faces, creating a calm and comforting atmosphere.

I adjust myself a bit closer to Roman; my dress shrinks so much that it almost reaches my underwear, but I don't notice. I explain some computer stuff I learned on my own and make a table in Excel for Roman so he understands.

My throat feels dry from talking so much.

He seems to understand everything perfectly, but an unusual nervousness is reflected in his eyes; he keeps observing the enormous window, almost invisible behind so many curtains piled up in front of it; not even a little light enters, the night is very clear due to the full moon.

"Roman... Roman"

"Yes... Yes... I understood everything perfectly!"

"Roman... Is something wrong?... You look like you want to escape through the window.- I ask, rolling my eyes at his face while pointing at the screen."