Nikolai nodded. Sophia left quickly.
While Nikolai stood waiting, the young maid Mary who'd been silently following me suddenly leaned close to my ear.
"Don't be afraid, Ms. Cole," Mary whispered in barely audible breath, eyes sparkling with irrepressible gossip. "The master isn't like those terrible rumors outside. When I first started working here, I was scared to death, thinking one wrong look and I'd get thrown in the river. But actually, as long as you don't cross his lines, the master is... quite reasonable."
I raised an eyebrow and gave her a "has he brainwashed you?" look.
Mary winked her big eyes at me playfully.
I watched Mary retreat with half-belief, but that suicidal curiosity and investigative urge grew wild like weeds in my chest.
Twenty minutes later, Nikolai—now in a fresh black jacket—finished showing me around the maze-like estate.
We returned to the spacious central hall.
Nikolai, hands in pockets, said casually, "Got it memorized? This estate's layout is complicated. I don't want my fiancée wandering the halls tomorrow morning starving because she can't find the dining room door."
I blinked, closed my notebook, and recited fluently, "From the main hall where we're standing, the left wing's first floor has thedrawing room and library. Past two corridor corners hung with sixteenth-century paintings, the south-facing guest rooms are on the right. At the end upstairs is an absurdly flashy billiard room with purple-labeled ebony cues. The right wing has servant quarters, the secondary kitchen, and an all-glass conservatory full of those precious Italian roses."
Nikolai's casual expression gradually tightened. He raised one sharp eyebrow slightly, surprise flashing undisguised in his eyes.
"I remember things fast, like a camera shutter." I shrugged, accepting his surprise without modesty. "Had it since I was a kid. Essential skill for a good writer."
Nikolai stared at me quietly. He said nothing, but I clearly saw an extremely faint yet charming curve form at the edge of his cold lips.
"Follow me." He turned and climbed the stairs.
He led me to a room at the deepest end of the second floor. He pushed open the door.
"This is your bedroom."
I followed him inside and gasped.
This wasn't a "bedroom"—this was a super-luxury suite three times bigger than my entire crappy apartment!
Huge floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the shimmering artificial lake. The spacious private sitting room had soft shag carpet and a cream leather sofa set in the center. Further in were a massive marble bathroom with wet-dry separation, a walk-in closet that could hold hundreds of haute couture pieces, and two independent bedrooms with perfect orientations.
Absolutely flawless. Rich people's world was so corrupt it made me want to cry.
But something Mary whispered earlier suddenly flashed through my mind. I turned and looked at Nikolai leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me. I cleared my throat and decided to test the edges of death.
"This room... is acceptable, I guess." I pursed my lips with fake reluctance. "But when I write, I need absolute darkness, so tomorrow I need you to have someone replace all these curtains withtop-grade blackout fabric. Also, every morning I need a specific brand of pour-over coffee, so I need—right there in that corner—the latest Italian semi-automatic espresso machine."
I watched his expression from the corner of my eye as I spoke.
Nikolai's expression didn't change. He just nodded blandly. "Fine. I'll have Sophia handle it."
He actually agreed?
My courage inflated like a balloon.
"And!" I stepped forward, pushing my luck. "The bedding has to be pure natural mulberry silk, champagne gold color. And my bathroom needs rose-scented bath salts stocked daily—I hate lavender. Also, that closet is too plain, I need—"
Before I could finish, Nikolai's tall frame suddenly closed in without warning. He appeared in front of me at a speed I couldn't react to.
That intensely oppressive masculine presence instantly enveloped me completely.
He extended his large, calloused hand and precisely pinched my slightly puffed cheek between his thumb and forefinger.
