Rejected: A love story

Chapter 170: Is heaven too crowded

Alex pushed the front door open. The house was cold and smelled like old dust. He kept one hand on Mateo’s shoulder and signaled for Viktoria to stay right behind him. They walked into the big living room, where the only light came from the moon hitting the floorboards.

A floorboard creaked near the fireplace.

"Back for more, Alex?" a voice growled from the corner. "Did you forget your keys, or did you come to tell me the world is ending?"

When Viktoria saw Nathan sitting there with a bottle, she didn’t feel sorry for him. She felt angry. Her son’s life was at risk, and the man who was supposed to be a powerful partner was slumped in a chair, smelling like a bar.

His suit jacket was on the floor. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top, and his tie was pulled loose like a rope. He had a glass in one hand and a bottle of expensive whiskey on the floor by his feet.

He looked at them, but his eyes were blurry. He squinted, trying to focus on Viktoria. He let out a loud, sloppy laugh that made her skin crawl.

"Oh, look at that," Nathan said, his voice thick and slow. He waved his glass at her. "The ghost brought her luggage. What’s the matter, Fiona? Is heaven too crowded? Or did you just miss my money that much?"

"Sir, you’re drunk," Alex said, moving forward. "We have a big problem."

"I have a big bottle, Alex. That’s not a problem, that’s a solution," Nathan retorted. He struggled to stand up, wobbling on his feet. He walked toward Viktoria, stumbling once and catching himself on the edge of a table. He stopped right in front of her. He smelled like a bar at three in the morning.

He reached out a shaky hand, almost touching her face, but then he pulled it back and laughed again. "You’re good. Really good. You even got the hair right. You’re a fake, honey. A very pretty, very expensive fake."

"Look at the boy, Nathan!" Viktoria shouted, pointing to the corner where Mateo was hiding behind Alex. "Look at him! He is two years old! Do you think I am using my child to play a game with you? I am Viktoria Volkova. My husband is Nikolai. If anything happens to this boy because you were too busy drinking to see the truth, Nikolai will kill us all. He will burn your company to the ground!"

Nathan’s smile faded a little. He looked past her at Mateo. The boy was shaking, holding his stuffed bear so tight his little knuckles were white. For a second, Nathan’s eyes got clear. He looked at the kid, then back at Viktoria’s face. He saw the tears in her eyes—not the fake kind, but the kind that come when a mother is ready to fight.

Nathan looked at the bottle on the floor. He kicked it, sending it flying across the room where it smashed against the stone fireplace. "Alex," he said, and he sounded a bit more like the boss again. "Why are they here? Why didn’t you take them to a hotel?"

"The hotel is where the threat came from, sir," Alex said. "They hacked the room and they hacked the server. I brought them here because the security isn’t on the web. It’s safe."

Nathan rubbed his face with his hands, hard. He was trying to shake off the alcohol. "If they followed you here, we’re in trouble. This house hasn’t been used in three years. If they see lights, they know we’re inside."

He looked at Viktoria again. He reached out and grabbed her arm. Not to hurt her, but to hold himself steady. "If you’re lying to me, I’ll find out. But if someone is using her face to touch a kid... I’ll kill them myself. Do you understand?"

"I just want my son safe," Viktoria said.

"Fine," Nathan grunted.

"Alex, you said he wasn’t here," Viktoria whispered, pulling Mateo behind her. She didn’t even look at Nathan. "We can’t stay here. He’s a mess. If those people show up, what is he going to do? Throw a glass at them?"

Nathan’s head snapped up. He squinted at her, his face twisting. "Oh, the ghost is talking now," he muttered, his voice thick and messy. He tried to take a sip from his glass, but his hand shook, spilling some whiskey on his shirt. "And she’s mean. Fiona was never this mean."

"I am not Fiona! For the last time, shut up about her!" Viktoria snapped. She turned her back on him and looked at Alex. "Is there a room with a lock? I need to put Mateo down. I don’t want him seeing this... this wreck of a man."

Nathan let out a dry, sloppy laugh. He tried to stand up, using the arm of the chair to push himself, but he slipped back down. "A wreck? This is my house, honey. My chairs. My air. You’re just a... a hallucination. A very loud, Russian hallucination."

"Sir, please," Alex said, walking over to try and take the bottle away. "Viktoria is right. People followed us. They are dangerous. We need to focus."

Nathan swiped his hand at Alex, missing him completely. "Dangerous? I’ll tell you what’s dangerous. Having a dead woman walk into your office and try to steal your money. That’s dangerous for the heart, Alex." He looked at Viktoria again, his eyes blurry. "You look just like her. It’s a good trick. Who paid for the surgery? Was it the husband? The Russian? Does he know you’re a thief?"

Viktoria ignored him. She felt sick to her stomach. She looked at Mateo, who was staring at Nathan like he was a monster.

"Alex, ignore him," she said, her voice sharp. "Where is the room? I’m not staying in this room with a drunk who thinks I’m a ghost. I have to figure out how to keep my son alive."

Nathan leaned forward, nearly falling out of his chair. "The kid," he whispered, his face suddenly turning dark. "He looks real. Is he part of the play? Did you rent him for the week?"

Viktoria marched over to him. She didn’t care that he was "The Ice King" or a billionaire. She leaned down and snatched the bottle of whiskey right out of his hand.

"My son is not a play, you pathetic man," she hissed. "While you’re sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, real people are trying to hurt him. If you can’t help, stay in your chair and stay out of the way. Alex, show me the room. Now."

Nathan sat back, stunned. Nobody talked to him like that. He watched her walk toward the stairs, his brain trying to catch up with how fast she moved.

"She’s definitely not Fiona," Nathan muttered to himself, reaching for a glass that wasn’t there. "Fiona was quiet. This one... this one is a fire."