Chapter 8
Chapter 8
“No, not that. Ah, I mean…”
S**t— The curse made her body go stiff. Bova, her one and only friend and the biggest villain around, kept sighing and rolled his eyes. To Milana, shrinking back with her large frame, it looked like rage flashing in those eyes.
‘Eep—’
“Ah, just come in.”
The space she stepped into under Bova’s guidance was not the room she remembered. Well, most of the furniture was untouched. The only things different were the air, strangely overheated just like Bova’s body, the wrecked sheets on the bed, and…
“Mir… ror?”
A large mirror propped up right across from the bed. That was it. But even without those things, the whole space felt deeply unfamiliar.
Bova didn’t answer. He flopped down on the edge of the messy bed and seemed lost in thought for a long moment. Milana wondered what on earth had happened in this room. She pulled out the desk chair and sat down carefully.
“Milana. I mean… did you see the stuff in the room?”
“Wh-What? Wh-What stuff?”
Bova spoke so suddenly she stuttered like an idiot. Her mind raced. What could he be worried about in that room? Mafia documents? Illegal weapons? Maybe dr… ugs?
Wait—
“Ah…”
The moment her exam-crushing brain caught the right answer, her brain cells shriveled to the size of peas.
She couldn’t answer. She just sat there frozen stiff. But Bova seemed to get the answer from her expression alone. His small face went white, then blue, then red, cycling through colors. His lips trembled. His small hands scratched at his head, then covered his face like he was losing his mind. A curse slipped through his fingers. ‘F**k.’ Milana nearly toppled sideways. A word she never expected from Bova. Her angelic friend who always helped her. The gentlest soul in the whole department. It was that shocking.
The friend in front of her was not the good kid she knew.
‘I’ve been fooled this whole time.’
“Look, I didn’t want you to find out about my feelings this way. S**t. Milana…”
“I’m sorry!”
She dropped to the floor without thinking. A thud sounded, but the sturdy body of a promising Swordsmanship Department star didn’t feel a thing. Maybe it wasn’t the body. Maybe it was the desperation. She didn’t know what grudge he held, but she had to save her own life. She had to beg.
“I was wrong! I hurt your feelings, right? I acted all friendly with someone so far above me… and you helped me so much! But I swear it wasn’t on purpose! I’m really sorry! If… if I’d known who you really were… I never would have done it!”
“Milana, wait…”
“I got too comfortable! I overstepped! I’ll never act familiar with you again. I just caused trouble and messed everything up. I had to use a little of your money the other day. I’ll pay it back with double the interest! You’re… you’re such an important—”
Milana bit her lip. She said “important,” but the word in her head was “terrifying.”
“If… if I’d known you were the Yefronsky heir… I never would have…”
She tried hard not to sniffle, but her voice kept getting wet at the edges. She sucked in a breath and bit her lower lip. A single tear rolling down at the worst possible timing was just a bonus.
Bova stared blankly at his own body’s lips, chewing themselves to shreds like gum.
“I wouldn’t have even gone near—”
“Are you scared of me?”
The words cut in sharp. Milana nearly convulsed. Her mind flashed to the wall in Bova’s dorm room, the one that looked like the site of a demon summoning ritual. Honestly, she wasn’t afraid of being killed in any normal way. It felt more like a curse would take her life.
“No!”
Her small-animal instincts denied it instantly. But Bova laughed. A bitter, hollow laugh.
“You are scared.”
What was it all for… damn it, I knew it would end like this… haah, f**k. He muttered curses too embarrassing to hear and shook his head. Milana could only watch, trembling, as her already messy brown hair tangled up like a scrunched-up dish sponge.
The man in the woman’s body raised his head, dropped it again, crossed and uncrossed his legs, pushed back his bangs for no reason. He stayed like that for a long time.
Despite the small frame, the woman housing Bova’s soul, no, Vladimir’s soul, had a provocative and overwhelming aura. It was the same thing she’d glimpsed in Vladimir’s face in the mirror. The air of someone born to rule. Milana had never known her own plain, round face could look so arrogant and threatening. It felt miserable. Like watching something grimy and pathetic bloom into a haughty, precious flower.
The person in front of her truly stood at the peak of darkness. And just like that, Milana lost her close friend.
‘Bova…’
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