She was starting to regret bringing her large kit instead of the smaller kit that she usually used to travel with when she was tattooing. She’d taken some time off just because her mind was everywhere but tattooing, but even when she was working regularly, she typically traveled with the smaller kit.
It was lighter and easier to unpack or clean up. The larger kit was making her arm tired as she navigated the maze of hallways.
She came around a corner at the end of the hallway and ran right into someone coming out of an opened door.
No, not someone.
Not just anyone.
A man.
A strange man.
Viktoria’s kit fell from her hand and crashed to the floor. Her first instinct was to immediately step back from the man, and put as much distance as she could between him and her. In her mind, her thoughts raced. They screamed at her to relax, calm down … don’t let him see you’re scared; don’t panic, Vik.
She hadn’t even looked at his face yet. Not that she needed to—just the sight of his large form, fit, tall, and lean, and the smell of his musky, spicy scent was enough to make her nervous. Her gaze drifted a little higher, traveling over the expanse of the black T-shirt that stretched across a broad, muscular chest, and then over his lower throat dusted with dark hair.
“Hello,” he greeted.
Viktoria’s gaze snapped up all at once to find his face. His eyes—a dark ocher color, flecked with brown and gold—met hers, and she sucked in a sharp breath that ached in her lungs. He really did have a beautiful face, with his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. The strong lines of his face were only accentuated by the intense coldness in his stare and the way his lips seemed to be pulled into a permanent line.
No smile.
No smirk.
Nothing.
His dark hair was a little long on the top, but messy, like he’d been running his fingers through it. A small scar through his left eyebrow only added to the straightness of his brow line, giving him an even more disinterested expression.
Yeah, beautiful.
And fucking terrifying.
“Do you not speak?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure what to make of his tone—it was both flat, and yet dark. Like he was accustomed to speaking in low tones, but it was just husky enough to suggest he could get loud if he needed or wanted to.
Viktoria swallowed hard, determined not to show the fact that being alone with this strange man in a hallway put a fear into her very bones that she would never be able to get out. “I can talk, thank you.”
Yeah, she meant for that to come out as sharp as it did.
He only arched a brow at her. “Are you lost?”
“No.”
His gaze drifted over her shoulder, and she swore the edges of his lips threatened to lift into some form of a smile, but he held back. She had the strangest thought, then—what would he looked like if he did smile?
Then, his dark eyes came back to her.
“You are lost.”
Viktoria balled her fists at her sides, but if he noticed it, the man didn’t say. “So, what if I am?”
“What are you looking for?”
“Who,” she corrected. “Konstantin.”
Immediately, and without questioning her further, the man nodded. “Da, this way.”
He turned and gestured with one hand for her to follow. She didn’t move, and he walked a bit down the hallway before he realized she wasn’t following him. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder with another arched brow.
“I will take you to him, come on,” he said.
Viktoria still didn’t move.
Who was this man?
She didn’t know.
That bothered her.
The look of him … the unknown … all of it was horrifying to her. Her worst fears and the nightmares that constantly plagued her sometimes started exactly like this, and that’s what scared her the very most. Not that she could tell this man that. She didn’t even tell her brothers these things, honestly.
She was terrified.
He was terrifying.
The world was playing a joke on her, surely.
“I don’t know you,” Viktoria managed to say.
Maybe then, he would understand her discomfort.
At that statement, the corner of his lips did lift into something akin to a crooked smile. It did nothing to soften his features, but rather, darkened them further.
“I don’t know who I am either, woman, but most people just call me Pav.”
“Pav,” she echoed.
“Or Pavel.”
That doesn’t help, really.
It seemed like he could read her mind because he shrugged, adding quickly, “At the end of this hallway, you will find an elevator. It’s loud and old, but it works. Press the button for the highest floor, and it will take you to Konstantin’s office.”
He didn’t give her the chance to say anything before he turned around and passed her by in the hallway. He took extra care not to touch her as he passed, and he didn’t even glance at the kit she had dropped on the ground. He disappeared around the corner of the hallway and never once looked back over his shoulder.
Viktoria was still frozen.
Fear was horrible like that.
4.
PAV WATCHED the second hand on the clock on the wall across from Konstantin’s office tick past the two with a slowness that rivaled death. He felt like he could safely make that statement. After all, he’d watched enough death in his lifetime to know it could be incredibly slow when it wanted to be. Even when someone begged for it to be faster.
He leaned against the
