devil's thunder

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch what you said. I spent most of last night checking essays, so my head’s a bit all over the place.”

“Sorry, Ms. Vorshevsky. I was just asking how you were.”

Freja was a bit surprised by his laugh. She jumped some, turning to glance at him. Her cheeks grew warm. Maybe she was misunderstanding what Viktor wanted. Regardless, anything he wanted, he could have. No wasn’t something she could say often, and especially not to someone like Viktor. She tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach, suddenly wanting the raincoat off of her, but she didn’t want to jump to conclusions. She wanted to believe he truly meant her no harm. 

Viktor sat in his seat, taking a sip of the water that she had offered him. He listened to her story. A part of him felt like she wasn't telling him all of it, but that was more than okay. He didn't need to know, and she definitely didn't need to tell him. Viktor didn't like dealing with emotional or awkward situations, so avoiding it would be the best route.

Freja looked at him, surprised when he said she could keep the coat. It was kind of him, but why would he give her his raincoat? Then, he could very easily buy another. She smiled, “Thank you, Mr. Petrovsky.” She offered. She hesitated at his offer to walk her to the apartment. “Oh um..sure, if it’s not too much of a bother?” She asked. She was somewhat nervous about showing him where she lived. 

Viktor walked in after her, feeling a bit out of place in the small building. There were other prostitutes walking around, some half clothed, others probably drugged out of their minds. Viktor noticed one of the pimps. He had never worked with him directly, but he had seen him several times. The man gave him a wicked grin and a nod of approval. Viktor laughed. Did he think that he was going upstairs to sleep with Freja?

Freja smiled as he offered her the raincoat. She sat forward, maneuvering it onto her. It swallowed her petite frame, but it was dry and warm and she was grateful for it. “Thank you, Mr. Petrovsky.” She murmured, her voice soft. She was calmer now that she was warm and going home. But she knew as soon as she could she’d run the water as hot as she could make it, which admittedly wasn’t much, and scrub the burdens of the day away until her skin was raw. 

Viktor slowed his vehicle down as she pointed to her building. He turned the GPS off as he parked on the curb, shutting the engine off. He stayed silent for a second or two, watching as she unbuckled herself. She was eager to leave. Was she embarrassed? She shouldn’t be. But something told Viktor that there was more to her story than he knew. 

You have so much confidence in me… I only hope I can do her justice. I think it’ll be an evening for the books, but- well, I certainly hope it is.

It will be. I have all the faith in the world in you. 

Freja hadn’t made it very far by time Viktor had pulled over and called out to her. She turned, blushing. He was wealthy and he’d never have to walk barefoot in the rain. She wasn’t sure she wanted to take him back to the apartment, but she also didn’t want to walk that far. She was tired, she was depressed, she just wanted a warm bath and blankets. She swallowed, “Oh..that’s really nice of you, Mr. Petrovsky..but I’m sure I’ll be fine…” She protested at first, but it was raining hard, and already her teeth were chattering.

Viktor was rarely ever an empathetic man. Yet, when he saw her standing there, barefoot and cold in the rain, he felt sorry for her. He felt like no one deserved to walk home in the rain. Once she get into his vehicle, he rolled up the windows and turned the heater on. It was finally starting to warm up outside, but the temperatures occasionally dipped when it rained. As he put her address into the GPS and came to a stop, he reached into his backseat. He grabbed his rain coat and handed it to her. "If you're still cold..." he said, setting it in her lap.

Oh please, that’s enough of the flattery.

Next weekend is perfect for me. A new venture? That’s exciting. With your touch, I’m sure it’ll be nothing short of perfect. 

I’m glad to hear it. And thank you, again, for being so helpful and doing all that you have for this event. It means the world to me, and I know it does to those at the hospital, as well. I’m hoping it will be such a success that we’ll be able to make it an Annual event, but- well, I guess we’ll have to wait until after it happens to see, won’t we?

I should be the one thanking you. You’re going to make the Palace look even more exquisite than she already is. Thank you, Sofia.

Wonderful. That sounds like an exciting weekend. A massage, high-end dining, an appearance by Viktor Petrovsky, and a weekend at The Palace; which makes me what, a Queen? What more could i ask for?

Only the very best of the best for a Vorshevsky. 

Freja nodded, grateful for that. “Thank you, Mr. Petrovsky.” She offered a tiny smile. Though the coffee was awful, she kept drinking it, letting it warm her up. She’d learned not to turn down food or drink, even if it wasn’t particular tasteful. She watched as he checked his phone, knowing he was busy and was likely needed somewhere much more important than talking to her.

Viktor was in such a rush to get back to work, that he didn’t even stop and think about Freja and how she might be getting home. He walked towards his car quickly, not having an umbrella. “Thank you, John,” he told the driver, before the man got out and into another car. As he started to drive away, he saw Freja taking her heels off. He had an umbrella in the backseat...

You know, it’s been awhile since I’ve had a nice massage. Maybe I will take you up on your offer. Does this offer include an appearance by Mr. Petrovsky himself?

I’m sure I could find time out of my very busy schedule to make an appearance, why not?

Freja was surprised. Most people accepted that she was fine and moved on, but he seemed genuinely interested in whether or not she was. She nodded, “I didn’t know her name.” She looked down at the coffee. Not knowing her name had bothered her most. That girl meant something to someone, and it was likely they’d never know what had happened to her. It upset her. And though she was never close to her parents, and she doubted they cared, she would want them to know what had happened to her. 

Viktor could tell that she was bothered by not knowing the woman’s name. He didn’t understand it. But just because he didn’t understand it, didn’t mean it wasn’t important. “I have a friend in the police department. He owes me a favor. I’ll find out a name for you, okay?” 

I’ll see what I can do. I can’t make any promises, though. But tell me, what does The Palace have to offer that would make not doing so a bad idea? 

You mean aside from the presidential suite, the high end dining, and the massages? Well, I don’t know.

Freja watched him as he got up and went to place their orders. She took the time to take a deep breath, to scratch at her arm, and try to calm herself. She felt so guilty. She felt so helpless. People she cared about, and people she barely knew, they were dying, and she didn’t know how to cope with it anymore. She was tired of losing people. 

Viktor looked at her for several moments, trying to decipher whether or not she was telling the truth. More times than not, he didn’t bother trying to figure it out. It didn’t benefit him any, so why bother? He cleared his throat, thanking the young woman that set their coffee down on the table. He grabbed his, holding the mug in his hand as he waited for it to cool off.

I’m sure she would be pleased to know that you took care of that part of the party for her, just keep the list pretty and clean.

Dude. Who gives a shit if you can’t walk or talk? The partying doesn’t stop just because you’re drooling and falling all over the place.

We? You’re right, though. It’s not a good look.

Wow, Katarina - thank you so much. You know the Palace's doors are always open for you. Take any weekend off, and come stay at the Palace. It’ll be worth it. I guarantee it.