Page 36
In a breath, Vadim closes the distance between us.
I thought this moment would never come.
His hands draw me fiercely against him. His lips find mine, and I stop resisting. The kiss sweeps me away, his breath warms me, and my fears disappear.
Everything I need, everything I desire, he is giving me right now.
This tender, passionate embrace makes me want him, want more.
Want it all.
16
Alma
I fall asleep in his bed that night. In his arms, without him expecting anything from me. And without us talking about any of it again.
When I tentatively open my eyes, it’s 7:38. Vadim’s huge, exquisitely decorated bedroom reveals itself to me for the first time in the early morning light. Being careful not to wake my sleeping Adonis, I look around me and take in the things that fill his world: designer furniture, a few paintings and pieces of modern art, a beautiful plant spreading its broad leaves across the space between two large windows, a black-and-white photograph of the L.A. campus that he must have hung himself. And I am inevitably plunged back into my past. Into the memories that never really left me, and which now come flooding back as if it all happened yesterday.
Twelve years ago, Vadim showed me what freedom felt like. Our passionate discussions, our secret meetings, our unexpected getaways, and our fevered embraces opened the doors to a new world for me. A world where breaking certain rules was no longer forbidden. My parents and teachers had kept me in a bubble, but my first love freed me from my gilded cage, gave me a taste for risk. With him, I discovered the thrill of danger and found the strength to express myself, to truly exist. He freed the voice I had kept locked inside me for far too long.
Vadim Arcadi gave me more than I could ever have asked of him. Today, I want to do the same for him.
“Lancaster, what are you doing in my bed?”
Vadim watches me jump, a lazy smile playing on his lips.
In a sudden fit of modesty, I pull up the sheet to cover the simple T-shirt that serves as my pajamas.
He sits up, wraps his arms around me, and whispers in my ear, “I like it when you act shy.”
I can’t help but smile. He takes the opportunity to kiss me, and I kiss him back, but catch his hands before they can slip beneath my T-shirt.
“Vadim?”
“Hmm?”
“You owe me some answers.”
“I’m not promising anything, but I’m listening.”
That irresistible accent, those playful eyes, his tousled hair and disarming smile… He certainly isn’t making this easy for me.
“What do you want to know, Koala?”
That nickname makes me smile… and tugs at my heart. Talking about the past is risky. I’m aware of that. But I want to understand. I need to know more about him, about us.
“Why did you change your name?”
“To start over. So I wouldn’t be judged by my past mistakes.”
“I see. And how did you get to where you are? Heading an empire like King Productions?”
“By working my ass off.”
I gesture for him to continue.
“First, I created a small, independent film company in L.A. It did well—we won quite a few awards—and I was able to sell it for a good price. That’s when King Productions was born. I made sure to keep a low profile for the first few years, so I wouldn’t attract attention, and I surrounded myself with smart people. Not the stars who parade in front of the camera, but the people behind the scenes, the real professionals… the cinephiles, the artists, the engineers, and the true entrepreneurs. And it paid off: seven years ago, our first blockbuster franchise set everything in motion. Overnight, our revenue and our reputation exploded. And since I’m the kind of person who never knows how to stop, I then created other subsidiaries, the latest being King France.”
