The Vampire's Search For A Queen: Billionaire Fake Relationship Romance (Vampire Royalty) by Nikki Grey

The Vampire's Search For A Queen: Billionaire Fake Relationship Romance (Vampire Royalty) by Nikki Grey

Author:Nikki Grey [Grey, Nikki]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-23T18:30:00+00:00


Chapter Fifteen

Irina

I look at myself in the mirror. With my hair tied all the way into a sleek ponytail and with big, eyesight glasses, I don’t look like myself at all. I used make up to define my cheekbones a bit differently as well, and the result is astounding. I’ll add a baseball hat to this, and hopefully, that’ll provide me with an incognito status while I do some snooping about Hannibal’s attack.

I can’t do this from inside his home, and I know he won’t agree to me going anywhere on my own. But I can’t very well have Plyn as my bodyguard and expect people to talk, while he’s standing there, looking at them as if he might pound on them at any moment. That’s just ridiculous. I need to do this on my own terms.

I take one last look at myself, nodding. Then, I head towards the door. I go down and, of course, there’s Plyn sitting in the foyer of the building. He is with his back turned to me, watching the door. I wonder how many people can actually come inside, when the security system feels bullet proof.

Then I remember what happened a few nights ago, and I remind myself that security systems are not all they’re cracked up to be. Nothing is bullet proof. Technology has advanced so much today, but no technology can be a match for the human brain. There is always a way around something.

I pat Plyn on the shoulder, but he doesn’t flinch, almost as if he expected me to come down at exactly this moment and talk to him.

“Hey,” I smile casually.

He turns around and gets up. “Hi,” he says, with that questioning look on his face. I try to figure out how old he is. Those eyes look ancient, but I can’t see any wrinkles on his face. He looks like he might be in his late twenties. I notice a scar peeking from the collar of his shirt. It looks aged, probably belonging to some old fight or argument that is now mostly forgotten.

“Can you come upstairs for a moment, please?” I ask.

“What’s wrong?” he replies with another question. His brows are bushy, placed close together so that it looks like he’s constantly frowning. But there is some symmetry to his face, which is making him physically appealing. Attractive, even.

“The light in the kitchen doesn’t work,” I tell him the first thing that pops to mind.

“The light?” he repeats.

“Yes,” I nod. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe the lightbulb? I mean, I can change it, but I don’t know where they are.”

“OK,” he nods, taking the bait, and heading for the elevator.

I press the button, both of us facing away from each other.

“Aren’t you bored just sitting there, doing nothing?” I ask, hoping to make small talk, to get him distracted. But he doesn’t seem chatty at all.

“I’m doing my job,” he corrects me, without turning to face me, but rather keeps staring in front of him, waiting for the ping of the elevator.



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