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vladi

S peeding through puddles on mud-covered roads in a buggy is actually better than it sounded.

I’m used to players flying down the rink, spraying me with ice, and pelting me with pucks, but the mud adds an extra layer of filth to the chaos, and listening to her voice shrieking and screaming outside of the bedroom is a welcome change of pace.

I catch myself grinning, the stiff muscles in my shoulders that are always on guard are looser today.

When she’s around, I feel lighter . Dare I say this is even… fun.

Not to mention her . The usual glares of annoyance are gone, replaced by a wide smile that sends a rush of warmth through my chest. Sitting next to me, her hand gripping the side of the vehicle, the wind wildly blowing through her hair, and the joy radiating from her face.

It serves as a sweet reminder of my mother, who lit up the world like a firecracker everywhere she went.

The way she would laugh and smile when we would go to the park.

The way she would sing and dance in the kitchen while making us dinner.

The way she got a feisty look on her face when accusing my father of breaking the rules when we played board games.

Growing up, I knew he did it on purpose.

He knew the rules, but I never understood why he pushed them right to the edge.

And now, riding down scenic roads with my Magdalina, I see it.

He did it to fluster her. He did it because it made her happy.

Seeing her like this, being with me, sets my heart on fire.

It burns through the chambers like a spark ignited after years in the dark, just waiting for a chance to glow.

“Vladimir Volkov, are you…smiling?” she yells across the open-air jeep. “You’re not having f un, are you? You have a broody image to maintain!”

A roaring laugh rumbles through me. “I’m simply enjoying the view, lisichka .”

“God, it’s so beautiful here, isn’t it!?”

I smile and nod as we fly through another puddle of mud. It is beautiful here, but the view in the seat next to me is even more exquisite.

After the tour guide leads our caravan to the first stop, we park at a small organic farm to sample coffee, chocolates, Mama Juana, and cigars. I rush around the car to help her down, but she’s already beaten me to it.

“I could have helped you out,” I say, narrowing my brows.

“I’m quite capable of getting in and out of a vehicle, Wolfie, thank you very much. I’m a strong, independent woman—you don’t need to help me or open the door for me or do any of that shit.”

I shake my head at the stubbornness she can’t seem to let go of.

It causes my pulse to race and my eyes to roll all at the same time, yet somehow the mix is everything I’ve ever needed.

“I know you are strong, but can I just be a gentleman? You called me that earlier today, and I’d like to live up to the name. ”

She looks up to the sky and lets out a defeated grunt.

“I suppose I could be treated like a queen every once in a while. That doesn’t sound half bad,” she says, flashing me that snarky, smile that makes my heart, and my cock, swell.

She grabs my hand and intertwines her fingers with mine, her cherry vanilla scent providing a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

“Come on, let’s go sample some free shit. ”

After tasting and purchasing a shit ton of Dominican specialties, we head back with the rest of our group to drive to our next destination.

“I cannot believe you drink that, Vladi. That is like…death in liquid form.”

With my hand on the small of her back, I glance out of my peripheral vision to see her nose wrinkled and her lip curled in disgust. “Magdalina, it’s coffee.

That’s what it’s supposed to taste like.

It was actually quite elevated, with a lower acidity than my normal blend, which is why I bought so much of it. ”

“But…there was nothing in it. No milk. No sugar. No pumpkin spice.”

“What you describe is not coffee—that’s a cup of sugar. Pure coffee is the lifeblood of champions. What you drink is merely processed syrups and milk with a splash of coffee.”

“Have you had processed syrups? They are fucking delicious, and you can pry them from my cold, dead hands,” she says.

I snort as we approach the vehicle. What have I gotten myself into? I am annoyed, yet I love it at the same time. That is, until she drops my hand and picks up her pace toward the driver’s side.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She looks back at me, grinning from ear to ear. “I’m driving the next leg of the tour.”

A quiet annoyance races through me, the blood draining from my face. “No. Absolutely not. ”

“Why? Do you think I’m a bad driver?”

I narrow my brows at her obvious attempt to goad me. “That is not what I said. I like to look out for you, and I prefer to do that from the driver’s seat to ensure your safety.”

She folds her arms over her chest and sticks out her lower lip in a pathetic-looking pout. “Sooo…you’re saying you’re a safer driver than me?”

I throw my hand over my face in defeat, hiding the frustrated grin breaking through. Magdalina pouting was not something I expected, and yet she’s somehow bewitched me, and I can’t disappoint her. “I’m not going to win this argument, am I?”

She smiles, her eyes gleam, knowing she has manipulated me into this. “Nope! Keys?” She holds her hand out.

I let out a long sigh, my mind whirling in wonder of exactly what I’m getting myself into. “Do not make me regret this.”

The mischievous look on her face has me instantly regretting handing her the keys. “Buckle up, Wolfie! We’re going on an adventure.”

Fifteen minutes later, my hand hurts from gripping the side of the doorframe, and my jaw aches from clenching my teeth.

I take pucks at ninety-plus miles an hour to the face, but this woman driving is one of the scariest things I’ve ever experienced.

She tailgated the buggy in front of us, slammed the breaks multiple times, making me extremely grateful for my seatbelt, and jerked the steering wheel a few times just to scare the shit out of me.

It worked. Thank God this is the shortest leg of the tour.

“Oh, come on! It wasn’t that bad,” she whines as we finally come to a stop, and I pry my numb fingers from the frame. “You’re overreacting.”

I slowly turn my head to glare at her. “Yes, Magdalina. I was clearly overreacting while you were screaming, ‘I feel the need for speed’ while passing the buggy in front of us, which the tour guide explicitly told us not to do.”

“Such a rule follower. You’re worse than Olivia! Don’t be such a party pooper, Vladi,” she says over her shoulder as we both step out of the vehicle.

I take a moment to steady myself, sucking in a deep, calming breath as I crack my neck after that ride from hell .

I stalk around the front of the vehicle, pulling her in close, her body a warm reassurance that we did, in fact, survive.

Despite my heart having just calmed down, with her lips just a breath away, my pulse quickens once more.

I wonder if we could survive more than just today.

She smiles at me through her long lashes with her fiery look that drives me mad. “You had fun and you know it.”

“I’m not sure clinging to the side of the car for dear life is my idea of fun,” I place a brief kiss on her lips, my mind wandering, drawn to thoughts of how this kiss, this week, hell— everything is more fun with her. And even more than that, everything feels right.