Translate:
Везучий ублюдок: Lucky bastard
Предатель: Traitor
Yelena sat in the love seat next to the window sill, a heavy head resting on her lap as Fanny flinched from one of her dreams. She gently stroked the back of her head as her legs stopped jerking and her breaths evened out again. A sad smile took over Yelena's face before she turned back to the window and continued to watch the courtyard.
It was far into the late hours of the afternoon by then, but Yelena didn't waver from keeping a close watch. Despite what she had seen earlier that day, she didn't trust herself to think she was off the radar. Whatever his motives were, or a small part of her wondered if he even had any, she wanted to be ready. Maybe even catch him off guard, and make an escape again.
Hopefully this time, it wouldn't be into the frigid waters of the ocean.
As Fanny opened her eyes and released a silent but wide yawn, she adjusted her head in Yelena's lap and let out what sounded like a sigh. Yelena followed and released one of her own, taking a moment to glance around the safehouse again. She could already feel the faint and discrete emotion curling back into her stomach and chest, slowly squeezing until she acknowledged what she had seen today.
Her subway escape hadn't been the first. It had come with her sister, after years of not seeing one another and when she had just been released from the hold on her mind she hadn't even known was there. The two embarked on a quick get-away, landing them in that very subway where she eased her own wounds and the two discussed what they could to pass the time. Back then, it was a tense and rather fleeting moment. Yelena found it to be one of her most valuable memories now.
The clatter of a gate caught her attention, and she was snapped away from her thoughts as she looked down and into the courtyard.
"Везучий ублюдок," she mumbled to herself. Yelena gently lifted Fanny's head from her lap and eased it onto the couch. Her ears perked up as she raised her head to watch Yelena disappear around the corner.
Down the hall, Yelena pulled open the door and silently admired the sight of her armory. An array of guns and weapons lined two of the walls in the small closet, some ranging from her favorite pistols to a few she used on…special, occasions. She hated to admit that a few had come from the inspiration of the Red Room.
Settling on one of her personal pistols, Yelena loaded the bullets and clicked it into place. She waited to pull the safety back, and slammed the door shut behind her. Running up to the window, she saw the two figures disappear as the door to the apartment complex in the courtyard closed behind them. Yelena clenched her teeth and walked back towards the front door.
She had securely fastened both locks into place when she returned home, and she now found herself undoing them all over again. Nodding in approval to no one in particular, Yelena clutched the gun in her hand as she made her way back to the living room.
If he wanted to talk now, he might find a bullet in his mouth first. Still, how could she refuse such an opportunity?
Yelena leaned against the doorframe to the living and held her breath. Even Fanny seemed to still after her light growl subsided. She could always tell when Yelena was on edge, and aside from her cute and fluffy exterior, she had no doubt Fanny could rip someone's arm from its socket if provoked enough.
The distant screech of elevator doors opening stopped her thought process. Yelena found the safety of her gun and pulled it back, the light click echoing. Two pairs of feet quietly squeaked along the floorboards outside of her apartment. Leaning around the corner to cloud her from view, she heard his voice barely float through the door.
"We have a history together," he muttered. "I got it."
Yelena couldn't bite her tongue in time.
"I know you're out there."
No answer. Yelena waited, and didn't have to for very long. Her posture stiffened when she heard the click of the door, followed by its light creak. Footsteps walked in and paused as it swung shut again.
Yelena motioned with her hand for Fanny to stay, who looked ready to jump and attack the moment they showed their faces.
"We don't want any trouble," an unfamiliar voice spoke, the soft creak of the floorboards getting closer. Yelena hugged the pistol to her chest as she could only recognize it as belonging to the new Captain America.
"You two are scoping the place like a minefield," she called back, an all too familiar conversation coming back. She pushed the memory away and focused on her footing as she backed away from the wall and into the center of the living room. They had passed the entrance to the kitchen, and she waited for them to poke their heads around the corner to enter. "I would say trouble is what you came for."
"We just want to talk."
She stiffened at his voice, recognizing the rough yet smooth tone. She leveled her pistol out in front of her as she finally saw the two come into view.
Both froze as they glanced down at the gun aiming for their chests, but the new Captain was the one to gesture with his hands up in an act of surrender, showing no weapons in his hands. The other remained stiff, his eyes never leaving the gun's point.
"Is that what you do now?" she asked, mockery lacing her tone as both seemed to recall their last interaction. A muscle ticked in his jaw, but he didn't acknowledge it.
Hesitantly taking a step forward, Yelena kept her eyes firmly planted on him as he fully stepped into the living room. His partner came to stand beside him, and she momentarily debated whether or not switching her gun between whoever talked first was a wise decision. It seemed reasonable enough.
"This is um…Sam," he said, turning to gesture at the Captain. Sam glanced back at him with a look she couldn't crack. "I'm sure you already know…uh…." He trailed off as he seemed to try and find the right words.
Yelena gripped the gun tighter as she cut in.
"Don't worry," she interrupted. "I know who you are."
If he seemed surprised by this, he didn't show it. Out and forefront, Yelena wanted to continue, but she held her tongue. James Buchanan Barnes stood in her apartment, seemingly weaponless and with no evident threat brought with him. That didn't stop her from keeping her gun level, right between his eyes. He didn't need a weapon to be dangerous.
It was an all too familiar feel.
The silence in the room gripped her with an iron fist. She had learned before she was to wait until he made the first move, and it seemed he wasn't in much of a talking mood.
Having been introduced to her, Sam adjusted his footing beside the super soldier and shot him a glance. James returned it and a light rumble ran through him as he cleared his throat. His gaze shifted down to the floor before flickering back up to hers. Yelena kept her face stoic and kept the point of her gun locked on its target.
"We're not here to hurt you," Sam cut in, just as James made a move to say something. He clamped his mouth shut again. "We just want to talk some things out."
"Like grown ups this time?" she quipped in return, briefly glancing back at James. His expression remained impassive, but he averted his gaze back to Sam.
Neither made a move after that. Sam kept his eyes trained on her, but rather than hostile or completely blank like she had seen with so many of her opponents before, they were curious and slightly suspicious.
James' eyes flickered between the floor and up to her again as the minutes passed by in the straining silence. It was only when Yelena made a slow and calculated move to lower her gun down to her side that he released a slow breath. Her finger still splayed across the safety, but when neither made a move to come closer, whether wary of her or the weapon, Yelena cautiously tucked it behind her and back into her jacket.
"You look almost desperate coming here," she remarked. "Your other targets were really so boring that you had to track me back here?"
The corner of his lip twitched upward, the faintest sign of an easy grin. It slipped away again after a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take on an almost far away glaze, but he quickly blinked it back.
She took them both in again, scanning for any immediate threats or hidden weapons. When she found none, Yelena took a few slow steps to the side. They didn't make any move to follow or reach for some hidden pocket in either of their jackets. Taking the chance, and suddenly craving a particular drink, Yelena strode across the living room and into the kitchen. The floor boards squeaked with careful steps from the other room as she opened the fridge and reached in to pull out the first bottle she saw.
"Well, since you've already barged into my apartment, make yourselves at home," she called, grabbing a single shot glass and filling it to the brim. "I would tell you to take a seat, but I expect this visit will be brief."
Throwing the shot back, she let it burn down the back of her throat as the footsteps drew closer. She turned to face the two again, both still down on their guard and neither showing any signs of attack. Yelena wasn't sure whether to be impressed, surprised, or gobsmacked by a bit of their stupidity.
Sam glanced around him at the safehouse's interior, but the super soldier only watched as she filled the glass again.
"Nice place," he muttered. "You've been living here ever since…." His voice trailed off, and she wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.
"I'd say hiding out is the better word for it," she replied. "For the sake of it, I'll say I came here because I thought you wouldn't. Why, where do you think I've been all this time?"
She didn't want to elaborate that she had only moved back to the Budapest safehouse a few months prior. Nor did she feel like going into detail that she hadn't been hiding since their last encounter, more so she had been granted mission after mission and it had kept her plenty busy enough to forget about him.
"I don't know," he said, his gaze darting between the table and her eyes again.
"Ah, right," she drawled. "You expected me to hide from the big and bad Winter Soldier?"
James didn't respond, his posture stiff and his hands clenched. He didn't make any moves to lunge or reach for a weapon, but Yelena subtly looked for the changes. If she had to see him again, the least she could do was have a bit of fun patronizing him in the ways she knew best. Sam had gone still behind him in the doorway, watching the conversation unfold.
"Funny, isn't it, how the trained and experienced killers are the ones who never get the glory," she asked rhetorically. "Seems the only way to get information on you was through the archives. Even then there isn't much else to learn about who or what the Asset is."
"Was," he cut in, his piercing gaze now locked on hers. Yelena didn't back down and stared right back, the shot glass pausing halfway to her lips. His voice dropped down to a mere whisper as he continued. "I'm not a killer anymore."
Her hand slowly eased the glass back onto the table, but she never took her eyes off of his. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she asked, "No?"
Her tone was almost sarcastic, but beneath it, she knew he could see darker bits and pieces of it.
She was about to open her mouth to continue until a light chiming buzz sounded from behind her opponent. Glancing behind him, they both watched Sam dig his phone from his pocket and glance at the screen. A light grimace came over his face, but he didn't elaborate on who it was. Yelena only raised a single brow at him as he gave her a curt nod and said, "Excuse me, I've gotta take this real quick."
Passing by James, he made his way across the kitchen and out of the opposite doorway. The front door swung open and closed again, and only Sam's faint voice through the empty halls on the other side of the wood filled the silence.
"But you got out," she started, her voice firm but quiet. Yelena wasn't looking at who was standing in her doorway, her finger tracing the rim of her shot glass. "Even after everything, you managed to pull yourself back out. And you moved on."
Her voice was ice, cutting the air between them. "Are you going to say anything?" she asked, her voice barely refraining from cracking on her last word.
She looked back up at him when he remained silent. His eyes hadn't strayed from hers, but she was sure it was out of pure force that he didn't glance away again. "I didn't have a choice then," he muttered. "I'm sorry - "
"Don't." she interrupted, shaking her head. "Don't give out apologies that you don't mean."
"I've been trying to make amends," he explained, his voice still low and quiet. "I have made amends. I'm no longer the Winter Soldier."
"Well, then you're fooling yourself," she laughed with no amusement. "Pain and suffering taught me that, at least. Because you're still a trained killer at the end of the day."
Her voice lowered down to a mutter as she finished, "We both are."
Yelena looked back down to the table and eyed the bottle of vodka. Shaking her head at herself, she grabbed her glass and threw her second one back. She ignored the burn as she moved over to the sink and grabbed another, flicking out the few droplets of water.
Setting them both on the table, Yelena didn't look at him as she uncorked the bottle yet again and poured them each a shot. Rounding to the other side, she all but pushed it toward him and downed her own glass. The burn was starting to work its way through her, and for once, she wasn't sure it was helping.
"It's not poison if that's what you're wondering," Yelena exclaimed with a sigh when he only eyed it with mild suspicion. Pushing himself off the door frame he had been leaning against, James took a step into the kitchen and glanced down at the bottle. He had just reached forward to grab his shot when a trot came behind him.
She craned her neck to the side to see Fanny keeping her distance in the living room. She was watching James without expression, her tail flicking from side to side in anticipation rather than excitement. She was still unsure whether she was supposed to lick or bite their guests' face off.
Yelena quietly clapped her hand against her thigh, and Fanny followed the motion and walked into the kitchen. She stopped at Yelena's side and welcomed the scratch behind her ears. Yelena glanced up to see James' cold and steel-like expression had slipped from his face, replaced with mild amusement. Moments before, he might have noticed Fanny on full alert and ready to attack him and Sam. Now, she was just a calm little pup, welcoming the touch from her owner.
"Good girl, Fanny," Yelena whispered. Fanny's tail went into overdrive at the compliment, but her head was cocked to the side as she eyed James with curiosity now. Switching hands with his drink, he let one fall down to his side as he held the palm open.
"Fanny?" he asked, not taking his eyes off of Yelena's even when Fanny cautiously rounded the table and over to his side.
"What's wrong with the name?" she snapped, suddenly on the defensive side.
"Just curious is all," he answered, his shoulders barely coming up and down in a slight shrug.
Yelena bit the inside of her cheek for a moment as she watched Fanny sniff his gloved hand, wondering if it was safe enough to let her get closer. As much of a guard dog and cuddle pup as she was, Yelena always admired how she resembled someone she knew in so many ways. A bit hesitant to open up to new people, but still with her own spark and flare that made her stand out from the rest.
"It was one of Natasha's cover names," she muttered without realizing it. She clamped her jaw shut as he glanced back up at her. Yelena only focused on Fanny as she continued, "After she went into hiding - after Germany."
James nodded in understanding and didn't say anything. She knew he didn't have to ask to know who she meant. Natasha was an Avenger, running off majority of the time with the previous Captain America. It seemed James Buchanan Barnes too had a reputation for mingling with the older man in stars and stripes, and she had no doubt the two had met up on one occasion or another. Either way, whether he had actually ever spoken to her or not, it didn't matter. She didn't want to hear his pitiful words that he was sorry for her loss, or that she was in a better place now. No matter how many times she would repeat it to herself, or how many few people had said it to begin with, it never lessened the sting that she was gone.
"You're her sister?" he asked carefully. He was already treading on incredibly thin ice by just bringing up the topic. She didn't answer, but she knew she didn't need to.
The weight of her chest began closing in, and Yelena rapidly blinked as she turned her eyes up to face him again.
"Well unless you're done ogling my dog and have nothing left to say, I'd say you and the new Cap can be on your way," she finished, huffing out a quick breath as she stopped the bottle of vodka again. "I think we're pretty well finished here. You've said what you needed to say."
James' easy stare turned hard again, and out of instinct, her hand crept behind her as her fingers brushed the gun. His jaw worked itself for a second before he looked back down at Fanny, who was eagerly waiting for another ear scratch.
When he looked back up to Yelena, her eyes had narrowed in suspicion. "What?"
James brought the drink up to his mouth and took a slow sip, testing out the flavor as his expression remained impassive. She barely refrained from rolling her eyes. It was vodka, what did he expect?
"There is something else." His voice was low again, though not so much as quiet.
"And what would that be?" Yelena sighed, taking her empty glass back to the sink and leaning against the counter. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him find the right words to say.
"I came here to apologize, for one."
"You already did."
"But after filling Sam in on everything, he thinks you could…well…."
"Go on."
"He thinks you might be able to help us out."
Yelena remained impassive for a moment. Her eyes barely widened before the small smile took over her face. A low and dark chuckle rumbled through her chest as she shook her head and glanced to the floor. Throwing her head back up to look at him like he was insane, her brows furrowed in confusion as she realized he was being completely serious.
"Sorry, I must have heard you wrong."
"We need your help."
"Then whatever super soldier serum they put in you must have made you mental," she exclaimed. "What makes you think I would ever help you?"
James ignored her question and stared down at the table as her own eyes drilled into the side of his head, tracing down from the unkempt parts of his hair on the nape of his neck all the way across his stubble. She avoided his lips at all costs, though. She had no need to look at them.
"Are you familiar with a woman named Valentina?" he asked, his voice suddenly sharp and to the point.
"You'd need to be much more specific than that," Yelena pushed, rolling her eyes at the lack of information. The number of people she had come into contact with from her missions had introduced her to thousands.
James looked to be refraining from rolling his eyes. "Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. So far all we've gathered on her is her connection as an associate to some kind of organization mainly interested in recruiting powerful or enhanced individuals."
Yelena lifted a single brow at James as he finally turned to look at her. She bit back on mentioning he had just given her the definition of the Avengers, and she settled for her eyes briefly flicking over his form, indicating precisely what she was asking. This time, he couldn't refrain from the small sigh that left him.
"Yes, like me," he answered with apparent annoyance.
"The name sounds vaguely familiar," Yelena replied after a beat of silence. "Emphasis on vague. Back on one of my assignments, I overheard a phone call my target made to what I'm guessing was his enforcer, and the name slipped through their conversation somewhere. Or at least Fontaine did.I wasn't paying close attention to it, though, seeing as she wasn't the one I was meant to shoot in the back of the head."
"But you do recognize the name?" he asked, his own features turning into a slight frown.
"Not by much, but enough that I can remember it. Might be because it's just a mouthful," Yelena shrugged. She took a moment to pause and narrowed her eyes in on James. He didn't break or back away from her glare. "Why tell me all of this?"
"That's where we need your help," he replied, shoving one of his hands into his jacket pocket. Yelena followed his motion and searched for any signs of a weapon. It was becoming a rather reoccuring habit for her. "We've had some surveillance tracking any leads that she may have, or what her other connections might be."
The next bit seemed hard for him to say as if he were holding down his own food or a scowl. "You familiar with a John Walker?"
Yelena couldn't help the snort that escaped her. "The crazy Captain America who was revoked of his position after going a bit nuts on foreign ground? Yes, I'm aware of who he is."
"Funny thing now is that Valentina got to him, too," James continued. "Shortly after his trial, news that he had resigned from any form of government positions spread like wildfire over the news stations. Sam was a little curious, looked into it, and with some help he managed to track it back to where he had a meeting with an anonymous person afterwards. Also of who we think may have been Fontaine."
"What's so significant about Walker?" Yelena snorted. "You've seen him lose a few bolts, but I don't see how that makes him an enhanced individual as you put it."
"He took a serum," he replied, his tone having gone stone-cold. "Super human abilities, essentially, to put it one way."
"A repeat of a super soldier serum?" Yelena asked, her tone suddenly matching his. The Red Room had been a bit vague with their own experimentations, but it was known that a serum to enhance soldiers and Widows' abilities was a popular thought around their science field it seemed. There was only one person she knew who had taken it, and he prided himself on the name and his many stories of his glory days. She hadn't spoken to him in years, and he seemed content where he was.
James nodded to answer her question, and she didn't need to ask to wonder why this was so sensitive with him.
"So…now that Walker's got a few good punches behind him, and this supposed organization you think he's been obtained into by this Valentina woman, you're asking me to help you with what exactly?" Yelena asked, not quite fitting the picture together. It seemed like they had managed fine on their own.
James didn't answer at first. He took a moment to avert his eyes back to Fanny, who was craning her head back and forth to see the two of them. His jaw worked itself around, a habit he must have adapted when not knowing what to say. She averted her eyes back to his that couldn't yet meet hers.
"You're one of the best there is," he muttered, finally looking up at her. She dared to wonder why the very tips of his ears were the slightest shade of pink, but she didn't let herself dwell on it. She did like to keep the heat running in her apartment on the cooler days of the year. Today was no different.
"I remember each time I wronged you as the Winter Soldier, and I remember each time wondering who the hell you honestly were," he continued. "You weren't one of my targets, but you intercepted my missions three different times. You were no amature, that was for damn sure. And you managed to get away those three different times with your life. I'm not going to lie, I'm honestly thankful for that."
"You're thankful that I electrocuted you while you tried to strangle me?" Yelena drawled, arching a blonde brow at him. He glanced down again at the reminder, and she sighed at the motion. "What's your point?"
"You have the experience in what Valentina might be going for, and who she might want as a target," James shrugged. "An ex-Widow is valued with certain skills, and from our…interactions, it seems like you've gotten pretty good at them all."
"So you're asking me to be bait?"
"I'm asking if you'll help us find her and put a stop to whatever it is she's planning," he amended. His voice turned dark and rough as he said, "We really don't need another Winter Soldier program on her hands."
Yelena didn't let herself think on the offer for too long. On one hand, she could agree, find who this Valentina woman is, risk her life for a battle that wasn't hers, and get herself re-tangled in the life of a man who had tried to kill her on three different occasions. On the other, she could turn down the offer and live out the rest of her time in Budapest with Fanny and the opportunity of a semi-normal life ahead of her.
She was leaning a lot more towards the latter.
Another low chuckle resounded through her chest as she pushed herself off the counter and met his questioning gaze. "I appreciate the offer, but flattery has never been a strong suit for me," she exclaimed. "If you do want bait, I'd suggest going to the nearest store and buying a few worms to put on that hook. Until then, I'm fine staying right where I am, Mr. Barnes."
James stood where he was and stared into her eyes. For a moment, it felt like he was trying to see into her very soul. She had experienced this before, and pushed up the walls of her training, blocking out what emotion she could. This wasn't her battle to fight, and she had lost so much already. What good was it to lose more to a person that probably couldn't care less if she lived or died trying to find a group of super soldiers?
Finally, James nodded his head and released a slow breath. "I thought you'd say that," he muttered, so quiet she could barely hear it. She tensed at his words, feeling a threat lingering behind them. She readied herself to grab for her gun again or duck from a swing, but it never came.
Instead, he pulled out the hand in his jacket pocket to reveal a folded piece of paper. Gently setting it on the table, he took the glass in his hand and brought it to his mouth, draining the shot back in one gulp. Releasing a sigh, he turned the glass upside down and placed it back on the table. Not a drip leaked out beneath it, and Yelena didn't let herself think on it as almost impressive.
"I assume you have a cell phone, right?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. Yelena scoffed and rolled her eyes.
"Yes, I have a cell phone," she drawled. "I would be more concerned if you did. Your records take your birthday back to the 19-something's. What are you now, 100?"
"106, actually," James corrected, shoving both hands into his pockets. Glancing down at the body still pressed against his leg, James extracted one hand again and gave Fanny a light pat on her head. She wagged her tail in delight as she looked up at him, waiting for more attention. "Just call if you change your mind."
"Highly doubt that," Yelena muttered. She gestured with her hand towards the doorway, and before she knew it, her front door was opening again, and the ex-Winter Soldier was stepping out of her apartment for what she hoped would be the last time.
She stood rigid in her spot as she heard the distant fade of voices and the light screech of the elevator. It was only when Fanny came around and nudged her leg that she looked down and gave her a firm glare. Fanny didn't waver and only wagged her tail with delight.
"Предатель," Yelena mumbled, but gave Fanny another light pat on her head before heading back to the living room. Before she reached the doorway, though, something in her forced her to turn back to the table. She eyed the piece of folded paper with disdain, but she found herself taking the few steps to pick it up.
Unfolding it in her hands, she looked down at the scrawled phone numbers on the paper. On one side, Sam W. was written beneath, and on the other, she took a second look to make sure she had read right.
Bucky Barnes.
She wasn't aware he hadn't gone by James. Shrugging her shoulders and realizing it was useless information now that she would most likely never see him again, Yelena made a move to crumple the paper and throw it in the trash bin.
A few minutes later, she scowled to herself as she watched them walk away through the courtyard and back into the busy streets of Budapest, the neatly folded paper tucked away in the pocket of her jacket.
Hours later, with a dark blanket fallen over the world, Yelena adjusted her bag on her back as the elevator screeched to a halt. The chime signaled and she stepped out onto her floor, the click of her shoes against the tile ricocheting off the walls.
Rounding the corner, Yelena made a move to get the key from out of her back pocket. Her hand froze where it was as her eyes took another look at the door.
She never left the house without locking it shut behind her. Ever. And yet, the smallest sliver of a crack held the doorway open, the handle unlocked and a small sliver of light creeping through across the floor.
Yelena had swiveled her bag around and pulled out the pistol as fast as she could. Securing it in her grip, she held her fingers over the trigger as she pressed the door open with the heel of her foot. She caught the other side with her toe before the hinges reached far enough to scream with a rusted shriek.
Navigating over the floor boards as if it were a minefield, Yelena held the gun at ready, swiveling it over to any nook and cranny that she could.
A creak in the floor board in the living room echoed down the hallway. Yelena's senses sky-rocketed as her heart pounded in her chest, threatening to break loose. She positioned herself flat against the wall as she held her breath not daring to let her intruder know that she was there.
A small airy chuckle escaped, and Yelena pushed herself around the corner. Positioned in the doorway, she held her gun level as she took in the sight of the woman occupying one of her arm chairs.
She didn't even flinch as her dark, beady eyes rose from her phone screen to glance at her. A small grin pulled back the corner of her lips as she clicked it off and stuffed it back into her coat pocket. The woman released a sigh and leaned forward on one of her knees crossed over the other. She didn't even spare a glance at the pistol positioned for her head, only took her eyes away from Yelena long enough to glance around the living room.
"Nice place," she commented as if they were old friends. "It has a nice rustic touch to it. Plus, a killer view of the skyline, I gotta tell you - "
"Who are you, what do you want?" Yelena interrupted, her voice sharp like a knife slicing through the air. She positioned her glare right where her gun was aimed, but the woman's smile only widened.
"Now, now, there's no need for that kind of hostility," she exclaimed a bit too calmly. "I'm here to help you, Yelena."
Yelena couldn't help her surprise. "How do you - "
"Just relax, have a seat, I'll explain everything," she said, gesturing to one of the seats. "Oh, where are my manners? I should introduce myself first."
Straightening out the long black coat reaching down to nearly her knees, the woman folded her hands in her lap and said, "Valentina Allegra de Fontaine. Well, technically it's Contessa Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, but for the sake that I don't like to repeat myself, you can just call me Val."
Hey guys!
Apologies for not getting this update out sooner, with the start of school again my schedule has been packed recently, and for future reference the updating dates may be a little off track. Again, I apologize in advance, but I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!
***I would like to point out and make it clear that I am not Russian, I have not studied the language, and if I misused a word, phrase, or anything like that when using it in my story, I sincerely apologize!***
And, as always, have a fantastic morning, afternoon, evening, or night!
-Summerwinds