TRINITY |18+

2

Sitting in front of my personal dressing table powdering my face and reapplying my lipstick while humming a song just to get ready for my audience or probably distract my fray nerves ever since I got the message from him. I really don’t know which?

They found me. How is that possible? Have they been watching me all these years? They can't do that... Or can they?

How do Andrei know I went to dinner? Is he working with the CIA or something cause that stuff only happens in movies? Wait a minute! Am I being hacked? Do I have a tracker inside me? Can he see me now? Does he know about my life here?

What does this mean now to me? What if I have to run away then they can't find me. Who am I kidding? This is so bad. What was I thinking? They're are Ivanov sons, worse than their fathers; I can never escape them.

It suddenly felt like the air thinned and my chest tightened. My head drops forward between my hands groaning lowly, my forefingers outstretch clasping hard on my temple in a not so gentle massage feeling a migraine building up.

Calm down, T. You're just being paranoid.

I could picture the look on Vadim’s face; he has always held the cool, calm, calculated façade never to let anyone feel or know his emotion. When he is angry, sad, or happy; he never gave it away and that was the one thing I hate about him because it scared me to know I can never read his emotions which didn't sit well for me. On the other hand, Andrei, the crazy half twin. He terrified me, literally, and I made sure to stay off his bad side... And good side. You never know which will tick the psycho in him off; still yet it never did work out for me. The more I ran away from him, the more he got obsessed with me.

My gaze flits to the diamond ring bracelet on my wrist trailing all the way to my finger pushing the message and the brothers out of my thoughts, a soft smile replace the frown on my face which I couldn’t resist. My birthday. I never expected Michael to go this extra; hell, I never thought he will remember the date after he asked and I casually answered him on the first day we met at the show room of my favorite artist.

Watching the beautiful canvas displayed on the white wall failing to take notice of the man behind me bumping into him. It wasn’t like in the movies where the girl slipped and the man catches her before she falls or she spills her drink on him. Nope; my freshly made braids got tangled with his gold watch as a result of my bump and don’t ask me how it happened because it is still a mystery to me.

My beautiful braids. I nearly screamed in tears but riled myself in.

He chuckles watching my face morph into horror as the watch yield not to release my braids. He excused himself from his little group ushering us to the washroom which by now my eyes were red and puffy at the verge of crying because I just made my thousand-dollar hair and this had to happen seeing it twisted more into frizzles.

You can call me dramatic… well, guess what? I don’t care. I do not joke with my braids.

He unclipped his watch and began working on the strands of my braids till it was free and by now it was just an ugly mess making me want to ball out my eyes.

Quietly, perplexed, I watch him unbraid the tangled strands to half a length and then smoothly braiding it back. Neat and perfect. My eyes for the first time look up at the man, blinking rapidly.

Stray blonde tendrils falling on his eyes making his more handsome, high cheek bones, jade eyes, thick brows, long nose fitting his face, a hint of tan on his skin giving a roguish grin on the cutest lips I have ever come across. He notices my flabbergasted eyes watching him, giving me a sweet smile resuming his work till he was done. I nearly died of shock; like who is this man? So thoughtful and caring of him.