Russian Roulette (Helena Hawthorn Series #1)

Chapter 1b

Until now, Andrew and Laura had kept the details of their new home a secret. They wanted to surprise her, and that she was. Her eyes widened at the sight of the red-brick apartment block that towered over them. To her, it appeared like a fortress. Perhaps having a castle wasn't a bad thing, especially when they could look out those oversized windows at the cityscape.

"This is the place?" she asked.

Andrew watched her with a hint of amusement. "Do you like it?"

She held back an urge to bounce on the spot, so she schooled her face into slight disinterest. "Until I see the inside, it's hard to judge."

"Don't worry, your highness, we chose it with you in mind."

She shot him a piercing glare, and he stuck out his tongue. In that moment, she questioned her decision to move in with her two best friends.

Andrew opened the glass door for her and ushered her inside. This allowed her to assess the simple white lobby. A chubby guard who manned the desk near the lift ignored them as they approached. In case something happened, she didn't expect him to be of any help.

"Earth to Thorn." Andrew's face appeared a few inches away from hers. The smell of his fresh aftershave filled her nostrils while his forest-green eyes focused on her. "Do you want to check the place out or not?"

Her cheeks warmed. Desperate to avoid further embarrassment, she marched to the lifts where she mashed the button until the doors slid open and they entered the metal confinement.

With a light laugh, he pressed the button on the panel and they moved.

On the fifth floor, moss-green carpet and white-walled interior surrounded them. The morning sun spilt into the corridor in the shades of blue. Upon arrival at their apartment, Andrew swiped a key card above the handle.

Helena set foot in the hallway. Her running shoes squeaked along the polished hardwood flooring. With each step, her eyes widened as she advanced into a spacious living room. Two leather loveseat sofas greeted them with a large LED television on the wall. Photographs of the city landmarks and famous streets littered the walls. She even liked the look of the small ceramic ballerina on top of the coffee table.

"Just how much is the rent for this place?" Helena asked, eyeing the grand interior. It was impossible to get a spacious apartment in Dublin without forking out a tonne of money.

"Laura's dad owns the whole building, and since he loves his daughter dearly...let's say he gave us the place at an affordable rate."

Helena raised a brow, doubting his answer.

With stealthy steps, Laura emerged behind them and slapped Helena on the shoulders. "Glad you made it. Where's your stuff?"

While Helena calmed her pounding heart, Andrew patted Laura on the head, messing with her strawberry-blonde curls.

Laura Quinn wasn't tall at five-foot-four, but what she lacked in height she made up for in personality. An argument with her was like fighting naked and alone against a horde of savages. Helena recalled a time when they debated who would win a local singing contest. Her loss turned into an escapade to bleach and dye her hair purple during a sleepover.

"I thought it would be best to get you in on the action," Andrew said.

Laura pouted. "My arms ache from bringing my stuff here since you"—she poked his chest with her index finger—"didn't bother to help me."

Andrew raised his hands in defence. "Hey, I went to collect Thorn. She doesn't have a car, unlike you. I bet if you wanted help, you'd make the security guard your man-slave."