Heart of Stone - Stone and Fire #1 [17+] (REWRITING)

Chapter 19

short one but i promise ill get another one out asap

Adriana's POV

I headed downstairs to find Polina scurrying about in the kitchen, her sleeves rolled up to her elbows in a precise, neat matter. She turned around before I could even speak- probably her sixth sense talking.

"Nikolas is waiting for you in the dining room." She said, soap suds up to her wrists. 

I froze mid-way to the fridge. After the pathetic back-out from yesterday, I didn't have it in me to stand in front of him and feel the scrutiny chase me from the top of my head down to my toes. And that was weird, considering shame was the last thing on my mind. In front of a man, no less.

"Do you happen to know why?" I nearly winced at my reflection in the silver of the fridge. You'd think living with a man for a week was enough to make me habitual at looking presentable. But that wasn't even it. It was the fact that we lived together and the only encounters I'd had with him were in three separate rooms, all ending with one of us leaving with smoke up our asses. I quickly grabbed my lucky hair-tie on my wrist and tied up a messy bun. 

"Nice collarbones," She said, her hands shaking water off. Before I could even react, she dried her hands off, grabbed a patch-work bag from the stool, and gave me a farewell nod. 

"Wait. Why the hurry?" She paused in her tracks, raising a obvious brow at me. 

"I'm a single mom of three. You think I spend all my time in Mr. Moody's house, cooking and cleaning?" With an unreadable smile on her lips, she headed out. Polina? Kids? Weird.

I looked down at my feet. Okay. With a deep breath, I smoothed down my silk top, pulled out two thin strands of hair to add some classiness to my hair, and made my way to the dining room.

The black knob twisted, and I walked in with my head held high. He didn't need to know vulnerability was a norm for me. He didn't need to know I prayed for the thoughts to leave every time I was alone.

I found myself in a black stained oak chair before I could administer it. I looked down at the plate of french toast, strawberry syrup drizzled over with, you guessed it, wedged strawberries adding a pink pop to the gold-rimmed plate. 

I looked up at Nikolas who's eyes were already on me. Specifically, my bare neck. 

Gosh, Polina. Must you know everything about him?

I cleared my throat. "I didn't expect her to have kids. Three, no less."

His eyes drawled back up to my face, a flare of confusion in them.

"Polina, I mean."

He leaned back, the nonchalance back once again. I looked at his tie-less neck. In some ways, it suited him. Perfect everywhere, except for that one sharp edge.

"She doesn't have kids. She never married."

 Oh.

So does that mean-?

Oh, God. 

That's two-for-two, Adriana.

"Understandable. She has a heart of iron."

He hummed in agreement, eyes on the empty chair at the other end of the glass table. He didn't have a plate in front of him. 

I slipped a big piece of syrupy, sweet bread into my mouth. 

Oh, fuck.

It was like eating sex.

I didn't moan this time, though. Not happening again.

"I'll be out until tomorrow night."

Something in my chest dropped.

"Why?"

His eyes remained on the chair at the end of the table. "Need to deal with some guys."

So kill. Just say kill.

"I thought you worked behind the scenes?" I knew he was part of the two-spies, second to the Pakhan, but it never occurred to me that he actively participated in body archery too.

I tried to read his body language. Messier hair than usual. Blank face. Empty eyes. Suit jacket unbuttoned. 

I dug into my second piece of toast as he carried a presence like that of a ghost. Scary, with bad roots, but invisible.

"Sometimes that doesn't cut it."

"So you find pleasure in slitting necks. That's good, too. Builds character."

What the fuck was I saying?

That's when he turned to look at me. "Petrov will be looking over things until I come back. There's papers that need to be sorted."

My lips parted as the fruit in my mouth turned to mush.

Fuck.

The food I'd swallowed down so fast suddenly felt like lead in my stomach, with about a hundred or so needles pinching my bare skin. I wanted to put my hair down. Now.

But there was only so much I could do under his calculating, watchful gaze. One blink, one wrong curve of my lips, and he'd find his pot of gold behind my eyes. And I knew he was looking for it. 

"Great. I'm assuming that means I won't have to stay at the house for the time being?"

God, be on my side. Please be on my side.

"No. I need you to help him fill out the things I didn't get to yet. Marriage papers. A few signatures."

I set my fork down and moved my trembling fingers down to my lap. Then I splattered on a smile that was made with the help of two puppeteers crowding over me.

"Sure."

He studied my face. Meanwhile my nails dug like glass into my bare thighs, and I felt the blood trickle down my skin. The burn scars from a month ago felt hot on the undersides of my breasts. The scar on my neck ached to hide behind a curtain of hair. I was an expert at hiding it, I'd been doing it for months.

But I was going to have a fucking breakdown if he didn't leave within the next five seconds.

Four.

Three.

"He'll get you anything you need."

Leave.

Two.

The door shut, and I welcomed the panic attack as I did every time: With shaky knees, a distanced mind, and trembling fingers that had no tears to wipe away.

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im sorry to inform you that the next chapter will be even more twisted and heartbreaking

with great difficulty comes greater reward

trust 

❤️