Chapter 3 Companion

The third day in Nikolai Valeska's mansion began with another list of rules.

This time, it wasn't Elise who brought them-but a younger man named Evan. Mid-twenties, sharp suit, easy smile that didn't match the ice behind his eyes.

"Mr. Valeska asked me to walk you through your expectations for the week," he said, handing Reina a leather-bound folder. "Events. Meetings. Appearances."

"I'm not his assistant," she said flatly, flipping through the pages.

"No," Evan replied, "you're his statement."

She glanced up.

Evan smirked. "You're meant to be seen. The world thinks Nikolai's untouchable. Cold. Calculated. But now, suddenly, he has a companion. Someone sweet. Beautiful. From nowhere. People are curious. And curiosity, Reina, is dangerous currency."

"I didn't sign up to play a role."

"You didn't sign anything at all."

She hated how true that was. There was no paper contract. Just an unspoken deal sealed by silence, desperation, and a pile of money.

Evan leaned closer.

"I'll give you some advice. Be charming. Be forgettable. Don't ask questions. And above all-don't embarrass him."

Reina folded the schedule and looked him squarely in the eye. "Thanks for the tip. Do you rehearse the intimidation, or is it just part of the uniform?"

Evan chuckled as he stood. "You're brave. I hope you stay that way."

She didn't ask what he meant. She had a feeling she didn't want to know.

Reina's first official appearance as "Valeska's companion" was at a private charity gala held in the penthouse of a luxury hotel downtown.

It was the kind of event she had only seen on television-women in diamonds that sparkled like stars, men in tuxedos with voices dipped in champagne and condescension. And at the center of it all was Nikolai, untouched by the crowd, an elegant storm in black.

He didn't offer her his arm when she arrived at his side.

He didn't speak to her at all.

But when she reached for a flute of champagne, his fingers closed around her wrist with quiet steel.

"No drinking," he said under his breath. "Not in public. Not yet."

She almost asked why-but bit it back. This wasn't the time for questions.

So she smiled.

Perfectly.

Fakely.

And walked two steps behind him like a ghost in velvet.

"You must be the girl," a voice drawled near the balcony.

Reina turned to find a woman watching her with the kind of smile that had fangs hidden in it. She was stunning-tall, blonde, dressed in silver silk. Older, mid-thirties maybe, but dangerous in the way a coiled snake is elegant.

"Reina," she said, offering her hand.

"Vivienne Kress," the woman replied, shaking it like it was made of glass. "I knew Nikolai's type had changed, but I didn't think he'd gone this far down the ladder."

Reina blinked. "Excuse me?"

Vivienne's smile widened. "Don't be offended. You're lovely. But you're also a very... convenient narrative."

"I'm not a story."

"No, darling. You're a prop."

Something sharp bubbled in Reina's throat, but she swallowed it.

"I may be a prop," she said sweetly, "but at least I didn't beg for a sequel."

Vivienne's expression soured, just for a flicker. Then her smile snapped back into place like armor.

"You'll learn quickly," she said, turning away. "Or you won't last long."

The car ride home was silent.

Reina sat beside Nikolai, trying not to look at him. He hadn't said a word the entire evening-not when people whispered behind their glasses, not when reporters snapped photos of them leaving arm-in-arm. He hadn't even flinched.

She, however, was burning.

When the gates of the estate finally closed behind them, she stepped out of the car, ready to storm off. But Nikolai's voice stopped her.

"You handled her well."

She turned. "Vivienne?"

He nodded. "She was my fiancée. A long time ago."

"Let me guess. It ended with blood and lawyers."

"No," he said simply. "It ended when I realized she was a wolf wearing pearls."

"And I'm what?" Reina asked. "A rabbit in heels?"

He walked past her, heading toward the front steps.

"You're still deciding what you are," he said. "That's more dangerous."

That night, Reina sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her reflection.

She barely recognized the girl in the mirror.

The red lipstick. The pinned hair. The glittering earrings that cost more than her childhood.

She peeled it all off, one layer at a time. Her mask. Her armor.

And yet, underneath it, she still didn't feel real.

Just before midnight, there was a soft knock on her door.

Elise.

"There's someone in the garden," she said. "He's asking for you."

Reina's heart skipped.

"Who?"

But Elise had already disappeared.

She slipped into a coat and made her way down the winding halls, past the gallery of locked doors and silent portraits, until she reached the garden steps.

The man standing by the fountain was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes and a crooked smile.

"Hello, Reina," he said softly.

Her breath hitched.

"Jace?"

He smiled wider. "Still remember me."

She ran to him-half in disbelief-and threw her arms around his neck.

Jace was the boy who used to sneak food into the back dormitory. The boy who taught her how to pick the lock on Madame Cora's pantry. The boy who promised her, once, at thirteen, that if she ever ran away, he'd run with her.

He looked older now. Sharper. There were shadows under his eyes that hadn't been there before.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I heard what happened," he said. "About the sale. About him. So I tracked you down."

She pulled back, fear rising in her throat. "Jace, you can't be here. If Nikolai finds out-"

"I don't care," he said. "I'm not leaving you here with him."

"You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand," he snapped. "This man-this world you're in-it's not just dangerous. It's a death sentence."

"I made a deal," she said. "I did it to save the girls."

"I would've helped you!" he growled. "I would've found a way-"

"I didn't want to wait," she cut in. "I couldn't. And it's done now."

Jace stared at her for a long moment. Then something in him deflated.

"You've changed," he said softly.

"I had to."

She turned away before he could see the crack in her mask.

"You have to go," she whispered. "If he sees you-"

"I'll come back," he promised. "You're not staying in this place. Not with him."

Reina didn't answer.

She just stood there, gripping the fountain, listening to the sound of his footsteps fading into the night.

She didn't sleep.

Not because of Jace.

But because, somewhere in the mansion, she knew Nikolai was awake too.

And if there was one thing she was sure of, it was this:

Nikolai Valeska didn't like surprises.

The next morning, he was waiting for her in the solarium.

"How long has he been visiting you?" he asked without looking up from the newspaper.

Her stomach dropped. "It was one night."

"And you let him touch you?"

Reina stepped forward. "Are you seriously-"

"You're mine," he said sharply. "You don't get to let ghosts from your past crawl into my garden."

"I didn't invite him."

"But you didn't send him away either."

Reina felt her jaw tighten. "I'm not your prisoner."

"No," he said. "You're worse. You're a liability I've dressed in silk."

She stormed toward him. "Then send me back."

He stood slowly, folding the paper. "Not yet. You still serve a purpose."

"Then stop pretending this is about control. You're not angry because of Jace. You're angry because you're not the one I ran to."

The air froze.

His eyes locked onto hers, dark and unreadable.

And then-he stepped toward her. Slow. Intentional.

"I could crush him," he whispered. "One call. One hour. And he'd disappear."

Reina didn't flinch.

"But you won't," she said. "Because deep down, you want to see what I'll choose. Him... or this cage you've dressed up like a kingdom."

He didn't deny it.

He didn't need to.

Because in that moment, they both knew something had shifted.

This wasn't just a transaction anymore.

It was a war.

And neither of them planned on losing.