VOLKO

Chapter Three

The summer dress fell just above my knees , around my neck hung the necklace Gemma had given me for my birthday last year.

Not being a dress person the outfit felt alien, but being in such a luxurious house made me want to wear clothing fitting for the environment.

Note to self, take Gemma's fashion advice.

A swift knock echoed through the room, followed by Jake who waited all of one second for permission. He wasted no time in making himself at home, jumping onto my bed which had still been immaculate until he destroyed it. He sighed as though all the world's problems were on his shoulders.

"On the brightside, my room has been completed. I should probably ask Victoria if I'm allowed to have fun in there." In the mirror I saw Jake make a masturbating gesture, opening his hand after shaking it to imply he was cuming everywhere. My face twisted in disgust.

I swatted his foot, telling him to pack it in.

"Not on my bed." Jake swung himself into a seating position. "She does seem very..." I trailed off, unsure of how to finish the statement.

"Uptight?" Jake offered.

"Has she always been like that?" Jake couldn't be further from the conversation, instead he inspected my room. Between his fingers he rubbed the bed curtains.

"Yeah but she's nothing compared to Dean."

On many occasions Jake had shared his displeasure of Dean with me. Myself, I had yet to see anything criminal from the guy. He's accompanied my father on a few trips to visit me but never stayed around. He always seemed to have something to do or a place to be.

In the rare event we had found ourselves in the same room, I'd felt his dispassionate eyes on me. They noticed every detail, from how I nervously picked the skin around my fingertips to the change in tempo of my chatter. I hadn't realised how much he saw, until he one day handed me a tissue. I remembered how I'd look at him confused about its meaning. His eyes briefly dropped to the blood forming around my nail. At some point I'd torn the skin away and hadn't even known. But Dean had.

When I went to thank him, he'd disappeared again, moulding perfectly into his surroundings. I could see why my father kept him around. When needed, Dean was an intimidating presence. He oozed unspoken capability. Then managed to hide in plain sight when required. 

Not that my father often did. He liked to keep Dean close by, including him in his many deals. From what Jake had said anyway. I'd only ever spent a few minutes at a time around him, and even then we never spoke.

"I've not really spoken to him, but he's always been polite." And by polite, I meant he wasn't openly a dick.

Dean definitely didn't go out of his way to make me feel comfortable or welcome, which was good enough for me.

Jake scoffed. "He probably hasn't spoken to you because he sees you as beneath him. Whilst you're here, you'll quickly learn that Dean has our father and everyone else under his thumb. He thinks because he's good looking he can do whatever he wants."

Beneath him? No that didn't sit right. 

Sure he acted like he wished to be anywhere but in my proximality. But not because I was inferior. I got the feeling like I was a nuisance, a hitch in his well control machine.

After tissue gate, I'd found he hardly looked at me at all. As though bleeding equalled to me not existing. Even whilst we'd sit at the same table, he always chose the seat further away, and never directed a question my way.

Why would he? He worked for my father, not me, and he'd never asked personal questions, everything discussed between the two was business. I took a little comfort in that.