Warning: this chapter contains some explicit content. Not like extremely explicit but kinda explicit.

"I'm presenting you with your final semester project this soon because from my past experiences and student feedback, I know that you will need some time to think about the theme you want to explore and the medium through which you will present that theme."

I chewed my pen nervously while trying to guess what it could be, but I came up blank.

"You will be realizing a project composed of multiple pieces –anything from two to ten will do. The subject of these pieces is of your choice. You will have the freedom you need to let your creativity free. Along with the pieces, you will be required to submit an essay."

A couple of people groaned and Mrs. Locke frowned, but continued as if she hadn't heard anything. "I say "essay" because a vast majority of students decide to present me with an essay. What I want is a written testimony of the artistic journey you are embarking upon. I want you to document your inspiration and your influences –it can be in the form of an essay or a journal in which you will simply consign everything and anything concerning the project –it's your choice. This will be worth ninety percent of your final grade. The top graded final project will be displayed at an art gallery –it has yet to be determined which one and at what time, but it is definitely an opportunity I want to offer to all of you young artists."

A stunned silence followed Mrs. Locke's final statement and she smiled. "The deadline to submit your subject choice is Febuary 21st. You can submit it via e-mail or simply let me know after one of our classes. Think it all over and if you have any questions, send me an e-mail! Have a nice evening." At that, she grabbed the huge canvas bag she always carried around and exited the classroom. Her entrances and exits were always brusque and unceremonious. It sometimes seemed as though she simply materialized in front of us or vanished right before our eyes at the end of a class, like some sort of hippie, new-age witch.

I remained seated as the people around me gathered their notebooks and sketchbooks, tapping my pen against the desk. I'd never been obsessed with being the best or winning, but for some reason, I realized that I really wanted my work to be one of the top three projects.

When I finally regained awareness of my surroundings, the classroom was empty except for some people lingering by the door. As I quickly stuffed my things into my backpack, I heard one girl say something about "Salvador Dali-esque" dreamscapes and I tried to push down the discouragement I felt as I remembered that most of these people were at least twice as good as me. I still had to master my watercolors and oil paint while they were obviously at another level, which made me feel pretty basic with my ink and pencil sketches.

But for once, I decided that I wouldn't let that stop me from aiming for that spot at an art gallery.

For once, I wanted to be the one in the spotlight –no matter how egotistical it sounded.

~♠~

"What does semi-formal even mean?" I asked Tina, who was –as per usual when it came to fashion –freaking out.

"You need to wear something semi-formal? I thought you were going to see a movie or something!"

"I don't know where we're going, actually, but apparently, I'm supposed to wear something semi-formal." The word felt strange in my mouth, too officious and stiff.

"And now's the best moment to ask me what to wear?!" Tina screeched, sheer panic evident in her voice, even through the phone.

"I've had a couple other things in my mind," I muttered as I opened my closet and stared at its contents, which were mostly composed of black hoodies, t-shirts and skinny jeans, with only a couple exceptions.

"Remember that black dress I bought you for twenty bucks on that sale?" Tina asked, her voice still a tad shriller than per usual.

"No," I admitted earnestly.

"Well, you better find it, cause you have nothing else even close to semi-formal."

I went through the racks of clothing until I found the black dress Tina was probably referring to, at the very back of my closet. "Oh, this one... I didn't  even remember I had that." I pulled it out and looked it up and down critically. "Isn't it a bit... I don't know... out there?"

"Guys love dresses that are 'out there'," Tina assured me. "The more skin is out there, the better."

"Wait a sec, I'm just going to put it on." I threw the cellphone onto my bed and slipped my shirt and pants off.

"Put on some sexy lingerie just in case!" Tina yelled, loud enough for me to hear even as I wiggled into the skintight dress. "You know that matching red ensemble you have? He's gonna love it."

"Who said he's getting to see it?" I said, my cheeks flushing.

"Call it female intuition. Your curfew is two AM, by the way. If you don't get your ass home on time, I'm calling your dad."

"Okay, but since when do I have a curfew?" I tried to sound dignified, but amusement seeped into my voice anyway.

"Ever since I have to worry about you getting pregnant, young lady."

I rolled my eyes as I pulled the dress down over my thighs. It was made of a material that resembled silk and it had thin spaghetti straps, a slit that went almost to my panty line and a back that was so uncovered that it was bordering on indecent. I stared at my reflection in the mirror. "I can't wear that, Tina! I look like a hooker."

"You look like a classy hooker," Tina corrected as I picked my cellphone from my bed. "A high class hooker. This was like such an amazing find, it's totally something Naomi Campbell would wear. You're lucky you're so tall, only tall chicks can pull that off. And you have to wear your high heels."

I groaned. "I'm tall enough without them." I touched my hair and winced. "And my hair's a mess." It had gone back to being it's former curly, messy self, and it surrounded my hair like a lion's mane.

"Just put on some eyeliner and you'll be fine. And if you really want to knock him off his feet, don't wear a bra. Guys love it when a girl's nips are showing."

"You're kidding right?" I froze, eyeliner midway to my eye, and gave my reflection a skeptic, disbelieving look. "I don't think Boston is ready for the nipples."

"It takes revolutionary people to change the face of fashion. I guess you're just not one of them."

"Whatever." I muttered. I didn't even want to knock Alexei off his feet... or did I? According to the plan I'd mentally devised in the last few days, the only objective of our dinner was for me to ask him a couple of well-aimed questions and catch him red-handed. Or something like that.

I finished applying the dramatic black cat-eye Tina had recommender with my tongue sticking out between my unusually red lips, my brows furrowed in concentration.

"I'm all set, I think." I said.

"Take a picture before you leave, I want to see how you look before your first date, babygirl."

"You make my sound so pathetic."

Tina snorted. "You're going on a date with one of the hottest guys to have ever graced this city and you're talking to me about pathetic? Stop that nonsense. And have fun. But you know, not too much fun. Have safe, condom-wearing kind of fun."

"Tina..." I groaned, but I couldn't help but smile.

"Well, what? Better safe than sorry, right? Oh and –"

Her sentence was interrupted by the sound of the intercom and I jogged to it, my heart suddenly stuck in my throat. "He's here," I croaked into my cellphone.

"Go get'em tiger!" was Tina's last encouragement before she hung up.

I tried to give myself a mental pep-talk, but my thoughts were a jumble of nervousness and anticipation, and I clicked on the button right under the interphone, the one that would open the door for him.

I ran back to my room and searched my closet for the high heels frantically, my mouth dry and my hands shaking. The doorbell rang and I froze, one shoe on and one hanging limply from my petrified fingers. I hopped to the door on one leg and opened it wide, shuddering when the cold drift from the corridor hit me, reminding me that the weather outside was far from adapted to my outfit.

  Gabe stared at me from the other side, a donut halfway to his mouth as his eyes slid up and down my body, making me feel completely naked and vulnerable. I finished putting on my shoes and then hugged myself, avoiding eye-contact.

He whistled. "Well, well, well." I looked up at him and gulped when I saw the wolfish grin that spread across his face. "Aren't you looking fi-ine. Going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. You should go." I glanced at the digital clock under the interphone. "Alexei will be here any minute now."

"And with Romanov, no less. One taste wasn't enough?" His Cheshire cat grin made goose bumps erupt on my bare arms and I rubbed them, my gaze dropping to my feet.

"Why are you here?" I managed after a moment.

"Just stopping by to share the latest developments with you. My buddy found out whose phone the texts were coming from."

Without thinking about it, I took an eager step closer to him, lowering my voice. "Whose was it?" It was only when I breathed in again that I realized that I was close enough to smell the subtle hint of his cologne along with the smell of winter that clung to his clothes, his skin, his hair... I had to tear my gaze away from him with voluntary effort.

Bad Isis.

He smiled down at me, with the look of someone who knew that he had something I desperately wanted and wasn't about to give it to me.

"It's not Alexei's phone, if that's what you're hoping for," he said smugly. "And I think that what you're doing is a really stupid idea. Just accept that he's not this A person and move on. Start being productive. He's not the guy we're looking for, Isis... Just give him a break."

"Wait, how did you know... Never mind, it doesn't matter. And what's one date gonna do? The worst case scenario is that I find nothing and have a free meal in the process –what's the harm in that?"

"No harm. Just be careful. He will charm your panties right off –if you're wearing any, that is." My cheeks burned and I smacked his chest. "Again." He added with another devious smile.

"Just tell me. Whose. Phone. It. Was."

"It's been stolen. It belongs to my boss's son, who also happens to be the host of the party Alexei invited you to. I've asked him about it and he told me he lost it during the party."

He must've seen a change in my expression because he rolled his eyes and sighed. "No, it doesn't prove that Alexei is the mastermind behind all of this."

"What kind of phone is it?" I asked, ignoring his stern tone and the eye-roll evident in his voice.

"The latest iPhone," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Well, thank you for the info."

"You're welcome." He was still looking at me suspiciously and I shrugged.

"It's just dinner," I said, my eyes wide and innocent.

"Sure..." he enunciated the word slowly, his eyes boring into mine for a confusingly long moment that made me feel on edge. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to push him out of my apartment or pull him closer, but I didn't do either –I simply stepped away, and the distance helped to clear my mind.

He did look good –he always did, in a simple, black jeans and black hoodie way. The very opposite of his complicated, mood-swingy self.

"Well, have a nice evening. Try getting laid, might help you get your mind off of things." With one last Cheshire grin, he turned his back on me and swaggered away as I slammed the door shut behind his back, fuming.

I only had time to check my make-up in the mirror one last time before the interphone rang again. My breath caught in my throat as I froze up, my heart racing as I realized the huge task ahead of me.

If I played this right, this could be the conclusion to all my troubles. If I somehow managed to find that Alexei was the mysterious A and catch him red-handed, I could put an end to my misery and be done with it all once and for all.

And yet, as eager as I was to finally figure out the mystery surrounding the mysterious stalker, I was almost hoping that Gabe was right and that Alexei really wasn't the one I was looking for. Something about him, about the way he'd acted in the library that day, with his eyes full of sincerity and regret, made me want to believe that he wasn't the dick I made him out to be.

I jogged to the door awkwardly, my legs rather unstable thanks to the four-inchers Tina had forced me to buy.

My finger shook when I pressed the button to open the doors and I patted the front of my dress nervously, staring down at it with sudden doubt –it was a bit revealing...

I didn't have any time to reflect any further on my wardrobe choices because the doorbell rang right then. I straightened up, rolled my shoulders for good measure and then opened the door, my breath catching as I glimpsed the guy standing on the other side.

Alexei looked like he stepped right off mount Olympus and I wasn't sure my mere human eyes were worthy of the sight of him.

He was wearing black –the only other color was the watch at his wrist, ostensibly gold and yet subtle. He wasn't wearing a suit –instead, he'd opted for a black sweater and black trousers with loafers that looked too expensive to wear in this type of weather. His hair was a mess of loose blond curls and it looked feather-soft. I was pretty sure that it would be just as soft to the touch, but I didn't dare verify that theory.

I couldn't speak for a moment, simply taking him in.

It was only when my lungs started to burn that I breathed again and picked his scent, which was the final nail in my coffin.

My legs felt even more unstable than they had before and I leaned against the door heavily, blinking to try and disentangle myself from the web of attraction that he'd spun around me.

Goddammit, Isis. Get your shit together.

"Hey." His voice shook me from my stupor and I blushed furiously.

"Um, hi."

His eyes slid down my body in a way startlingly similar to Gabe's slow appraisal. Once again, my breath caught in my throat as his eyes travelled back up to mine, one of his eyebrows rising almost imperceptibly. "You look beautiful."

I nervously toyed with one of my curls and glanced down at my dress. "Isn't it a bit too...?" I didn't know what I wanted to say exactly. Trashy? Slutty?

"It's perfect. You look perfect."

I relaxed a bit. "You look amazing too."

He gave me one of the half smiles I was growing used to and gestured at me to follow him.

I slipped on my coat and grabbed the clutch purse I'd carefully packed with my wallet, a flashlight and pepper spray, just in case.

"Where are we going exactly?" I asked as I locked the door with shaky fingers.

"You'll see," was his cryptic answer. And then he placed his hand at the small of my back and guided me outside where his car –a sleek black sports car with beige leather seats –was waiting for us.

I spotted Mrs. Carlton, the elderly lady who lived in an apartment one floor beneath ours, as her wide-eyed gaze followed Alexei and me.

He opened the passenger door and closed it once I was settled in and circled the car to slip into the driver's seat.

The purr of the engine was barely audible and my seat grew warmer at the press of a button. It took me a moment to relax and even though we didn't speak, the silence didn't feel uncomfortable. It wasn't the silence shared between long date friends; the silence of people who knew each other so well that they didn't need conversation to share their feelings –it was the silence of two people who'd discovered each other in ways that words couldn't describe and it was strangely intimate in a way I'd never experienced before.

Something about Alexei, about his complete lack of nervousness and his confidence made me feel comfortable around him.

"What's your major, Isis?" Alexei suddenly asked and I jumped in my seat, surprised by the sound of his voice.

"Art," I said cautiously. I studied his expression, looking for the usual reaction my announcement elicited. But his face remained perfectly smooth, with no trace of the condescending, patronizing air people wore as soon as they heard that I was studying art. One of my father's friends had even once told me outright that art wasn't something I could make into a career. That it was a hobby and not something I could live off.

"So that's why you always carry around your sketchbook. I'm not an expert, but from what I've seen, you're pretty good."

I blushed and my hand instinctively found one of my curls. "You looked inside my sketchbook?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. My curiosity got the best of me. But I liked your work, especially the portraits."

I bit my lower lip, belatedly realizing that I was getting lipstick all over my teeth. "I... I don't really like showing that stuff to people."

"Why?"

I looked out the window, mulling over his question. "Because it feels personal... I don't know how to explain it. It feels naked. I hate watching someone looking at my drawings. I keep thinking that they'll hate them."

"The only thing I hated was that there were no drawings of me." He turned his attention away from the road to look at me for a second and the glint in his eyes told me that he was joking. "I'm narcissistic like that."

"I can draw you someday, if you'd like." I didn't tell him that ever since the night of the party, the one thing I'd drawn the most was a rendition of his eyes, which never ceased to fascinate me.

"I'd love that. Do you do nude portraits? I'd like to have one of me hanging above my fireplace."

My blush deepened. "I-I only did a couple for a class once."

His smile widened and a dimple appeared in one of his cheeks. "I'd like to be your muse." His voice dropped an octave or two and a shudder slid down my spine when I met his catlike gaze. His eyes were just as penetrating as I'd remembered them to be, cutting into me as though he could see right into the deepest, darkest corner of my mind.

It took me a moment to realize that the car had stopped and that he'd turned the engine off.

When I looked outside and saw the floor to ceiling windows that gave me a perfect view of the restaurant we were about to dine in, my stomach twisted into a tight knot. It was filled with men in suits and women in cocktail dresses looking about a thousand times more sophisticated than I did. I patted my hair nervously, wishing I'd done something to tame it. I opened the passenger door and slipped outside, my gaze drifting to the awning that shadowed the entrance.

Madame de Beauvoir, Cuisine Française.

Alexei must've noticed my worried expression because he slipped an arm around my waist and leaned in closer to whisper into my ear reassuringly. "We can go elsewhere if you'd like."

The way his warm breath fanned my earlobe made heat pool in the pit of my belly and I shuddered with delight. "It's fine."

We entered the restaurant and the hostess seemed to recognize Alexei immediately because she smiled at him and said. "I'll guide you to your table, Monsieur."

My attention was completely captivated by my surroundings as I mapped the layout of the restaurant, planning to lay it down on a page of my sketchbook later on. The setting was modern, but not in the cold, sterile way modern interiors usually were. The dim lighting gave the whole place an intimate atmosphere and the warm tones of wood that surrounded us almost made the place feel cozy. It actually would have been really nice if not for the people who all exuded an air of wealth that put me on edge; a reminder that I was not part of their world.

The hostess guided us to a rather secluded corner and settled two menus at the center of the table.

Alexei pulled my chair out for me and I sat down, keeping my back unnaturally straight. I felt his mouth pressing against my ear and he whispered "relax", before he slipped into his own seat. After watching my tomato-red face for a moment, he laced his fingers together and leaned forward, "We can go somewhere else, if you'd like to."

"N-No! This is great!" My voice was too high and panicky to sound honest and he raised a doubtful eyebrow. "I mean it." I added, my tone steadier this time.

"I just thought you might like it since your sketchbook was filled with sketches of modern buildings and rooms. I thought maybe you liked contemporary architecture."

I felt oddly touched by his thoughtfulness. "Y-yeah. I do like modern places." I cast a slow look around our table and relaxed into the comfy white chair. "This place is really beautiful."

He grabbed one of the menus and I followed suit.

I tried to decipher the complicated names of the dishes –each name was first written in French and then translated into English, but that didn't make them sound any clearer. I frowned at a dish called "Platter of Artisan Charcuteries" –how pretentious could these people get? And what the hell was "Douanier Cheese"?

"My personal favorite is the Beef Tenderloin Tournedos," Alexei offered. My relief must've been evident because he cracked another half-smile before he lowered his eyes to the menu again. I closed mine and took a sip of water, letting my mind absorb the ambient noise. The sound of chatter and cutlery clinking against porcelain plates was strangely soothing and I finally felt my shoulders sag, released of their initial tension.

"What's your major?" I finally asked, even though I already knew the answer thanks to Jenna and Ro's investigating skills.

The question had felt like an innocent enough conversation opener, but as soon as the word "major" left my mouth, all warmth was drained from Alexei's eyes. His face became eerily blank and the tentative smile I'd mustered up faltered.

"I'm majoring in Politics." He didn't elaborate further and I didn't dare ask anything else, afraid that I'd say something inadequate again. My eyes darted to my hands, which were tightly clasped in my lap and an uncomfortable silence followed. I was saved by the waitress who came to take our orders, and I found myself fearing the moment she would leave.

Jotting down our orders didn't take long and she was gone as fast as she'd come, leaving me with a brooding Alexei again.

When I dared to glance at him, he was watching me, his expression less frozen and more... puzzled? He was looking at me as though he was waiting for me to say something, but I had no idea what that could be.

"W-well, that s-sounds cool," I said hesitantly.

He was now openly staring at me, as if I'd sprouted a second head in the past few seconds.

I opened my mouth to ask what was wrong, but a male voice spoke up from behind me and I jumped in my seat, startled.

"Alexei, how nice to see you!"

Alexei looked equally surprised by the intrusion, but his initial shock was quickly replaced with a polite smile. I stared at him, fascinated by the way he could school his features into a completely different expression on demand.

Then I looked over my shoulder, to see a middle aged man with graying hair and a suit that looked like it was just pulled off the rack of some overpriced store mere minutes ago standing behind me. He was handsome –his jaw was square and his eyes were a light shade of blue –and the way he was smiling reminded me of a poster for a political campaign –it seemed too joyful, too patronizing and straining to be genuine. He was obviously trying to get into Alexei Romanov's good graces –but why?

"Good evening," Alexei's voice was pleasant and polite, but when I looked at his eyes, I could see the leftover traces of the coldness my question had brought up.

"How's your mother?" the man asked and Alexei's eyes grew even colder.

"She's doing great."

"Good, good. Tell her I said hi... If she ever needs anything, she can call anytime."

"I'll make sure to let her know." The corner of Alexei's mouth twitched mockingly, so quickly that anyone who wasn't watching him as intently as I was wouldn't have noticed.

For the first time since he'd appeared, the man looked at me. It was a fleeting, dismissive glance –it felt as though he'd looked right through me.

"Well, have a nice evening," he said, his gaze going back to Alexei quickly, as if he was afraid that Alexei would take offense if he wasn't the center of attention for more than three seconds.

"Thank you." Alexei's tone was final and his expression made it clear that the man had already overstayed his welcome. With one last brilliantly white smile, he turned on his heel and left, leaving us alone. Alexei's gaze darkened as he stared as his retreating back and he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "sonofabitch" under his breath.

"Is your mother okay? Is she ill or something?" I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me.

He looked at me, looking almost startled, as though he'd forgotten I'd even been there in the first place. When he registered my question, his face shifted into a comically confused expression. "No, she's not sick..." He enunciated each word slowly as he studied me, as if he was waiting for me to say that I was kidding.

"Oh. Well, that's good."

"Wait a second. Isis, do you know who my mother is?"

It was my turn to be confused. "Er, no? Should I know?"

Alexei leaned back into his chair and ran a hand through his blonde mane of hair. He gave me the first real smile of the evening, effectively knocking my breath right out of me. God, he was so gorgeous.

"I can't fucking believe it. You might be the first person who legit doesn't know my mom."

"Okay, but who is your mother?" I asked, starting to get a bit impatient. The way he circled the subject was slowly driving me insane.

"My mother," his voice was filled with sarcasm, "is none other than Nina Von Graff."

"Yeah right," I said as I took another sip of water, one eyebrow raised at him.

"I'm not kidding," he said, his tone and eyes dead serious. "My full name is actually Alexei Von Graff Romanov, but that's kinda long... Plus, Alexei Romanov sounds better, doesn't it?"

I almost choked on the water. "Wait, you're not kidding?"

"Nope."

"Your mother is a presidential candidate?"

"Why else would everyone think that my ultimate goal in life is to become the president one day?" He looked amused now and all aloofness left him as he leaned back into his chair, his usual half-smile returning to his full lips.

"I-I thought it was b-because of your major," I muttered. Suddenly, everything made sense; Gabe's speech about how Alexei wasn't the kind of guy who got into that kind of trouble, the rumors about his career goals, his strange interaction with the middle aged man who'd approached our table...

"Who was that guy?" I asked, my eyes scanning the restaurant, looking for the man in question.

"I think he's some kind of big Wall-Street stockbroker. I think he was involved in funding my mother's campaign." Alexei said, his gaze following mine. We watched the man in silence for a moment, as he sat at a table with a few other suit-wearing, salt-and-pepper-haired men.

I turned around to face Alexei and found his eyes on me. My cheeks flamed as I remembered why I was even there in the first place, as the scheme I'd imagined suddenly felt childish and pointless. Gabe was right –Alexei wouldn't put everything on the line to amuse himself at my expense. Even the way he looked at me now –as if he was relieved somehow, for some mysterious reason I couldn't grasp –made me feel guilty.

I looked back at him, really looked back at him –this time without my tainted perception of him –and was startled to find that I didn't feel even an echo of that searing hate and mistrust I'd felt the first time I'd met him.

He was still looking at me expectantly once my thoughts stopped racing and I opened my mouth to ask him what was on his mind, but that was the moment where our waitress approached and set our plates on the table.

Alexei dove into his entrée as I appraised the array of forks and knives set next to my plate. I selected one of each at random and tentatively cut a piece of what looked like steak.

"Tastes like steak, looks like steak, why did they have to call it Beef Tenderloin Tournedos?"

Alexei smiled –his second real smile of the evening, which was more than I'd ever seen from him. "It sounds fancier that way."

"And why were you staring at me like that?"

His smile turned lopsided once again, but it was still genuine as he looked up at me through his ridiculously long lashes. "Mostly because you look amazing and I can't help it," he said, his voice a notch lower than just seconds before. Warmth pooled at the bottom of my stomach as my cheeks grew hotter and I had to look away –his eyes were too intense to look at directly in that moment. "But I was also waiting for the usual questions."

"Usual questions?"

"You know, the 'So, do you actually vote for your mother?' or 'Will you fuck a girl on the Oval Office's desk if she's elected?' questions." I was gratified with another full smile, but this time it wasn't the smile that made me blush. "And the answer to the first question is 'no', by the way. I cancel my vote, usually. As to the second question, it depends."

"On what?" I asked before I could think it through.

"On whether she wants to get fucked on the Oval Office's desk or nah."

My hand froze with the fork midway to my mouth when my eyes met his. We held gazes for a moment that felt like an eternity and my thoughts involuntarily ventured back to our kiss in the library. I could almost feel his lips on mine as if I was back there, surrounded by the dusty smell of old books and the quiet, studious atmosphere, bursting into fire as he kissed me.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have said that." He was the first to break eye-contact and I took another bite of my steak, trying to push away the strange feeling that had overtaken me.

"I – It's okay," I said quickly. "So... If you don't want to become the future president, what is it that you want to do?"

"I have no idea, honestly. I was considering switching my major to Law, but I'm still hesitating. And you? Are you planning on living off your art or...?"

I grimaced. "I know I probably won't make it if I rely on that kind of income. I'm not ground-breaking or extremely creative or anything... I'm just kinda average. I wanted to major in journalism at first, but the community college I'm in doesn't offer it, and that's the best I can afford right now. I wasn't that much of a stellar student in high school so the scholarships I had access to weren't the kind that would be able to cover the expenses of living away from home and paying tuition, you know? Plus, I have no idea if I'd be any good at it..."

Alexei was silent for a moment, his eyes pensive. "I can help you financially if you'd like me to..."

"No, no, thank you, but... I mean, you don't even know me. I don't really know you. It would be so weird."

Something sparked in his eyes then and he sat up straighter, his eyes boring into mine. "I don't think it's weird. Money is never a problem for the Romanovs." His tone grew bitter and he looked at something over my shoulder. I followed his gaze, only to see a woman who looked to be in her late twenties or maybe early thirties approaching our table.

She smiled past me, not even seeming to notice that I was sitting there, her eyes focused on Alexei. "How nice to meet you here!" she exclaimed as she wandered past me and leaned in to kiss both his cheeks.

"Anna, hey." His voice sounded resigned as he gave her a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Did you see the latest poll numbers?" she asked excitedly. "Did you have a chance to talk to your mother? I saw her yesterday and she was ecstatic."

"No, I haven't. On both counts."

"Well, you should call her!" That was when she finally glanced my way, as if she'd just noticed I'd been sitting there all along. She raised one eyebrow and looked at Alexei questioningly. I blushed –why were all of these people so rude?

"Oh, Anna, this is Isis. Isis, Anna."

She extended a hand and I shook it gingerly. She glanced at Alexei as though she was waiting for the continuation of his introductions, as if she wanted to know what he'd call me: was I his girlfriend? A "friend"?

But he didn't specify and she just pulled her hand away with an emotionless "nice to meet you" and a fake smile. "Well, I hope you two enjoy your evening." Was the last thing she said before she turned on her heels and left us to ourselves again.

Alexei brought his fork to his mouth, his eyes stormy and his expression brooding. "As I was saying, money isn't a problem for us. I could help you. I don't think it's weird for me to want to do something that I know I can do, Isis. I'm not trying to sound conceited, but that type of money is truly nothing but a drop in the ocean for my family."

"It's not nothing to me," I said quietly, my eyes avoiding his. "I can't take money from you –I just can't. This isn't the way we do things."

Alexei's eyes bored into me. "But if you ever need anything... anything at all, just know that I'd be more than happy to help."

"Alexei, you're not indebted to me." I put my fork down and nervously toyed with one of my curls instead. "I really don't regret what happened between us. You don't need to compensate for it, you know? I'm just fine. I promise."

"I'm not trying to compensate for anything. I'm trying to be friendly. Isn't that what friends do? Help each other out?" he grinned at me, leaning over the table.

It was then that the waitress brought him his main course along with a bottle of wine he'd ordered when he'd received his entrée. He thanked her politely and as soon as she was gone he poured the white wine into both of our glasses. "That's nice of you, but you've known me for what, all of four hours tops? I don't think that's how friendship works."

"Then how does it work?" he asked me, still looking amused as he took a sip of wine.

"You have to get to know the person first."

"Well then, get to know me."

An hour and a game of twenty facts later, I felt a bit light headed thanks to Alexei's constant refilling of my wine glass and I was brimming with random facts about his life that he apparently didn't share very often. Among other things, I now was one of the rare people who knew that he'd had a pet chicken when he was four years old and that he was afraid of sleeping in the dark until the age of fifteen. I'd also learned that he needed a new box of condoms along with some shaving cream, thanks to a list hastily scribbled on his left palm.

"Do you always do that?" I asked, letting go of his hand as we sat in his car, ready to leave.

"Pretty much every day." He confirmed. "I can't seem to keep an agenda so I that's how I keep track of the things I need to remember."

I pulled out my phone to check for any missed calls or texts from Tina, only to find a message from a familiar number.

You look lovely tonight, Isis. Have fun... but not too much fun.

I stared at the screen until the letters all blurred together and my eyes burned.

"What is it?" Alexei asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

"Nothing!" I laughed nervously as I snapped my phone shut and blinked to soothe my itching eyes. "It's nothing." But my stomach was twisting itself in terror as I stared at the restaurant I'd just left. All the warmth and the pleasant buzz of the alcohol dissipated in seconds, replaced by nausea. The text had been sent during the two hours I'd spent in there with Alexei –another confirmation of his innocence –which meant that whoever this A was, he or she had to be following me. Who said that this A personwasn't watching me right now, that he wasn't going to follow me straight to T&T's?

"Can you give me your friends' address again?" Alexei asked as he started the car and started toying with the GPS system. "That's where you're headed, right?"

"Actually, I –" I hesitated, biting my lip. Alexei looked at me quizzically.

"You sure everything's okay?" he asked and his hand left the gear shift to rest on my bare knee. The mere touch of his hand made me feel as though all my nerve endings had migrated to the spot where his skin was in contact with mine. I felt the warm pressure of his palm so acutely that everything else felt muted in comparison. Warmth irradiated from where he touched me, spreading liquid heat through my veins as I looked up into his eyes and nodded, unable to speak. He was leaning over the console now and his arm slipped behind the headrest of my seat as he leaned closer to me. I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead of pressing his lips to mine, he delicately brushed a kiss against my cheek before leaning away, leaving me breathless and wanting –no, craving­ –something more. "I had an amazing time, Isis. I'd love to do this again sometime."

"Can we not go home just yet?" I blurted out. "Please?"

The thought of leading my stalker straight to Tina and Tyler's place made me feel queasy.  

He paused for a moment, his hand still on my knee. "Where do you wanna go?"

"Anywhere... I just don't want this to end yet."

He pulled his hand away and rested it on the steering wheel as he ran his other hand through his blond mane of hair. "I think I might know a place that you'd like. It's a bit far though..." he trailed off, his eyes unfocused.

"How far away?" I asked.

"It's an hour drive from Boston," he said. "It's a house my parents brought not too long ago and it's in the middle of a forest, it's a really beautiful place –" He stopped abruptly and smacked his head with a grimace. "Never mind. I'm sorry for sounding like a creep."

"No! Wait, that's perfect!" It was only when he looked at me with a raised brow that I noticed that my tone sounded a bit too eager. "What I meant is that I'd love to see it. Since I love architecture and all."

He smiled at me, and I felt warm all over again. "You don't think it's creepy that I want to take you to a place in the middle of the forest after just one date?" he asked as he turned off the GPS and started maneuvering the car into the traffic. "One friendly date," he corrected quickly, giving me a sideways glance.

"I trust you," I said, startled to find that it rang true. I did trust him, now that I was sure that he wasn't the mastermind behind the huge mess of a situation I'd gotten myself into. Just one evening spent in his company had me rethinking my initial idea of him and the more time I spent in his company, the more I realized that I felt more than just physically attracted to him –I actually liked him.

"Just so you know; I'm not taking the fact that you accepted my invitation to a remote location in the middle of the forest as an invitation to make a move on you, so you don't have to worry about that."

"That's good to know," I said as I relaxed into the already warm leather of my seat.

I looked into the rear-view mirror, imagining A watching me slipping through his fingers. I was going to be safe and I was going to keep Tina and Tyler safe. And if it meant some extra time in Alexei Romanov's presence, then so be it –it's not like I was going to complain.

The ride to the mysterious house in the middle of the woods passed so quickly that I could've sworn that it took all of five minutes instead of an hour. My cheeks ached because of my constant smiling and laughing and Alexei looked different than what I'd seen of him so far. The dimple that rarely ever appeared in his cheek was a constant now and his eyes were warm, softer than I'd ever seen them. I was still mesmerized by them, but without the intimidated factor. He was still beautiful but his looks no longer made me feel small and inadequate. Instead, every time his eyes found mine, I felt as though I was prettier than ever before.

This was bad. This was what Tina would call a hopeless crush.

He opened the passenger door for me and held my hand as we approached the massive, looming silhouette of his house. He pulled keys from the pocket of his pants and clicked a button, and it was as if the house in front of us came to life. Lights illuminated the façade and shone from inside out. The whole building was all glass and stone and from what I could see inside, it was more of the same, with shiny dark wood floors and modern, comfortable looking furniture. The surrounding darkness of the woods made the house stand out even more. It was like a beacon of light in an uninterrupted sea of darkness and something about that imagery felt safe and welcoming.

Alexei let go of my hand to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Let's go inside."

We hurried up the front steps and he typed a series of numbers into a small keypad by the door before he slipped the key into the lock.

The inside was already warm and Alexei started explaining something about solar panels and automatic heating as I slipped out of my coat and shoes and started exploring the inside. The entrance was actually a living room, with a white couches and chairs and a huge TV installed above a modern fireplace. Three of the four walls of the room were floor to ceiling windows. The ceiling was impossibly high and Alexei's voice echoed off the walls, sounding as though it came from everywhere at once. I stopped at the bottom of a spiral staircase and Alexei walked up behind me. "There's a room in here that I think you'd like."

He took my hand again as he started up the stairs, and I followed him, intrigued. Being there with him felt almost surreal, as if I was in a dream rather than in reality.

He led me down a narrow corridor and opened a door to his left, leading me into another huge room. I immediately noted it was a bedroom, since the central piece of the room was the bed –a huge, platform bed with white satin sheets.

But the most amazing part of the room was the ceiling –it was all glass. A million stars shone on us from above and I stared at them with open-mouthed awe, craning my neck to see all of them at once. The vastness of the sky made me feel almost dizzy and I looked back at Alexei. "This is amazing."

He was looking at me intently and the way his eyes flickered from my lips to my eyes and to my hair made me feel like I'd just been struck by lightning –in a good way.

Before I could do or say something stupid, I walked around him and stopped at one of the walls, which was also all glass. All in all, the room was like a giant aquarium –only one wall wasn't all glass and was instead made of grey bricks.

The house was situated on a hill and from the second floor, the forest looked like a dead sea, with the sparkling lights of what looked like a village in the distance. And above the horizon, the stars were all there was. An infinite ocean of twinkling specks of light. I looked up again, entranced by the sight as Alexei came to stand by me

"Wow, this is just... gorgeous, Alexei."

"I know." His voice was husky and low. I made the mistake of looking at him. He was gazing at me again with that too intense look in his eyes and my mouth suddenly felt dry.

"It's been a long time since I'd last had such an amazing time with anyone, so thank you," I said, my tone nervous and high-pitched.

"It was my pleasure." His voice was still husky and low and made me feel all kinds of hot and bothered. "Tonight was great."

But all I could think of was that other night I'd spent with him. I bit my lower lip, almost startled by how much I wanted him in this very moment. It was a scary feeling, all this desire and lust swirling together inside of me –especially since I'd never felt it so strongly before.

"And I'm not saying this just to be nice or whatever. I really mean it. I know you don't think that I'm serious about this, but I am. I really want to get to know you, Isis. I don't want you to feel like you gave something so private and intimate to a complete stranger. I want –" But I didn't let him finish, because I'd just decided that fighting what I wanted wasn't an option.

My mouth found his and something like relief coursed through me. This was it. What I'd been craving all night. His arms were around my waist in no time and he was crushing me against him as his tongue grazed my bottom lip. My hands found his hair and I buried them into his golden locks, curling my fingers into fists and tugging at it, which elicited a sound that sounded almost like a growl from him. His hands found the zipper of my dress and he stopped abruptly, his breaths shallow and fast, his forehead pressed against mine. "Are you sure?" he whispered. "We can stop this here, I don't want to push y-"

Instead of answering, I pulled his mouth to mine again and moaned when he bit my lower lip. This really wasn't typical Isis behavior but for once, I couldn't care less. For once, all my shyness and social ineptness was forgotten. He was all I could think about, all I could feel, all I needed and wanted in that moment and he was right there –so very close and so very willing to give me exactly what I wanted.

The stars and the beauty of the wintery landscape outside were completely forgotten as he tugged down the zipper of my dress and as I yanked off his sweater. He picked me up and carried me to the bed, kissing me all along the way and even as he lowered me onto the sheets. His eyes never left mine as he unzipped his pants and tugged them down with a devious smile. And then he was on top of me, his hands unclasping my bra expertly and his mouth kissing me everywhere, making every inch of my skin feel as though it was bursting with flames.

Even as he kissed me, one of his hands rummaged through the heap of clothes on the floor until he found what he was looking for. He pulled away for one second, and I watched as he tore open the package of a condom.

It was only then that I realized what I was doing. What we were doing.

But instead of stopping him, I smiled up at him and he grinned back at me –a real, full-fledged smile that illuminated his face and made him a thousand times more beautiful than he usually was –which was saying something.

And then, he reminded me exactly why he'd earned himself the reputation of the local sex god.

~A/N~

I'm sorry for any and all grammar errors found in this chapter. Consider it as a very rough draft that will probably get edited tomorrow. 

Thank you for reading and lemme know what you think!

dedicated to frippery in thanks for a comment that totally made my day brighter on the last chapter! thank you for the support!