Chapter Four

Dear good Viktor

When Zaya realized it was Kyle that Damien called, the glaring reality clasped her soul.

Zaya saw Kyle approaching in a dreadful hurry. Sharp and purposeful strides.

His eyes was burning with something in between fury and possession, locked on her.

Zaya braced.

Just then, a man emerged from behind the bloom of white Lilies. Like an apparition. Sculpted from money and charm.

Wealth personified.

With his glinted wristwatch giving "million-dollar" statement. A tuxedo that clung beautiful to his tall frame, with a glass of wine sitting carelessly in his hand.

"Hey girl. I asked you to show me around and you got into trouble instead."

Zaya blinked.

Damien’s grip softened.

"Mr. Viktor” he greeted.

Kyle's pace lessened as the man approached.

But he managed to walk up to the scene.

"Did this lady trouble you, Mr. Viktor?" Kyle asked in a tone unlikely of him. His voice stripped off his usual dominance.

Something in-between respect and hospitality.

Viktor strolled forward sipping his wine. Utterly unbothered. Looking like this was just an ordinary awkward social misunderstanding.

"Far from it Kay. I asked her to show me around. Then I had a call, I couldn't find her upon my return. I only stepped out here in search of her." Viktor said casually.

Kyle switch up was almost commendable.

His tone changed instantly.

He claimed Zaya was his staff. “She is a very very capable one. She would be more than pleased to help you with a tour. But if you will only allow her a moment. There are errands she needed to run that–"

Mr. Viktor declined, raising his hand to cut him off. "Oh Kay, I do not have plans of staying much longer. She can give me the tour now, except, of course you mind. Do you?”

Kyle gave in hesitantly.

A bit of tension guarded the air.

But Kyle withdrew with a tight nodding. "Oh No! Of course. "

He stepped back.

All the while, Zaya just stood there. Lost completely from reality.

Viktor extended his hands to her and walked with her out of the scene.

It felt like a near-death escape.

She refused to utter a word until they were halfway across the lawn then Viktor attempted taking her into the hall.

She pulled back.

"I — I don't want to go in there.... not ready to face the crowd, please." She said, stuttering in a near whisper.

"You must have another place you want to stay in mind. Do you?" Victor asked her with an arched brow.

"Yes... the poolside" Zaya responded.

Viktor studied her face for a fleet of seconds then nodded.

"That's fine."

They walked in silence.

The moonlight glided across the water as they reached the pool area. Other nights, stillness would have been added to the many characters of the poolside but tonight, the noise from the party stretched, and the noise in Zaya's head was even louder.

Zaya took a seat at the edge, hugging her arms.

"But why the poolside? You seem to have caught cold already." Viktor asked curiously.

"Here I would know when someone is approaching. You clearly would have questions for me. I would love to answer them without fear that I'm being listened."

It felt like things were just made easy for Viktor.

He grew a bit more curious. "Who are you to the Kamerons? Why where you treated like that?"

She responded with a shrug.

"That's little. Compared to the others."

"Mm? Others?"

Zaya nodded.

"I just escaped a soundproof room where I was locked up and fed once a day."

She paused. Her voice cracked.

"I don't even have an idea why I was locked up. Please don't let me go back there. Help me."

Viktor leaned in.

He said nothing for a moment.

Then spoke.

"I'm wondering why you think that I'm safe enough to save you."

Then Zaya said, lips trembling, “Because whatever you are capable of doing to me cannot outmatch the ones I've had to endure here."

His eyes widened. Jaw flexed.

“Are all the Kamerons treating you equally?”

Zaya raised a brow, then lowered.

Her hands were shrivelled from cold and trembling for fear of what was next. Then she found her voice again. Slowly , softly.

“It is as bad as the domestic workers included.” She paused and raised her eyes to study the man's face . “If only I had, or knew where to go, or who to call. I would have probably been able to try escaping earlier . But I would just be mistaken for a deranged person out there who is running from help. No one would believe me or even understand.”

Every word was delivered with all the weight it carried. Viktor just sat there, listening.

Then he spoke.

“Very well then I will help you.”

There was a beam of hope and joy on Zaya's face.

But, If I help you, if I do this for you, I'll need something in return. You'll do something for me."

He paused and looked into her as if trying to unskin her and see through what her response would be.

"You will marry me."

Zaya's heart sank.

There's always a cost.

“I understand that doing this would be difficult to come free. But Why? Why do you need me as a wife?"

Silence.

He swirled his wine. Looked at her. He set his glass aside.

Then he spoke.

"Frankly, I don't need a wife. I need saving, just as you do."

Viktor stood up and paced slowly. "In sixty days, I must present a marriage certificate and a wife beside me or I lose everything. That was the clause my father left in his will. Though he had thought it the conventional way. The "find love and marriage” way. But jokes. All jokes."

He paused, and picked up his glass then turned to Zaya.

"If I succeed, I would unlock a wealth I would not run out of in generations to come. And you my dear, will unlock freedom. It's a fair deal."

Zaya's body remained cold.