As the Red Flag sedan ca to a stop in front of the hotel, Sheknia gently extended her delicate hand and lightly nudged Mavi. She said softly, "Wake up, we've arrived."
"Sorry about that, I dozed off," Mavi quickly apologized. Resting his head on a female officer's shoulder while sleeping—this was definitely a first for him.
"It's fine," Sheknia said, rubbing her slightly sore shoulder. Then, turning to Mavi, she asked, "Do you have any other plans tonight? How about I buy you a drink as an apology for what happened earlier today?"
The dim lighting reflected off Sheknia's delicate features. Her sharply tailored military uniform exuded an air of authority, yet at the sa ti, it was enough to make any man's imagination run wild.
However, Mavi wasn't just any man. "I'll have to pass on the drink," he said, declining without hesitation.
The mont the words left his mouth, Sheknia's expression visibly dimd. It was clear she had not expected this. After all, she was the celebrated beauty of the Ukrainian Navy, and her father was an admiral.
She was used to receiving invitations, not the other way around. And yet, here was Mavi, rejecting her so directly—it was a rare and humbling experience.
But just as Sheknia's face was starting to fall, Mavi suddenly changed his tone and added, "How about I buy you a drink instead?"
Ah, the power of words—splitting a sentence into two parts could send emotions soaring like a roller coaster.
Sheknia stared at Mavi for a long mont. After two seconds, a beautiful smile graced her lips. Without hesitation, she asked, "Alright, then shall we drink in your room later?"
Mavi's expression turned a little odd. "My room? That might not be the best idea."
Hearing his response, Sheknia suddenly realized how that sounded. Her face flushed slightly as she quickly corrected herself. "Then… your room is out. How about mine?"
Mavi blinked. "Your room? That's even worse."
A man and a woman, alone in a room—with wine, a bed, and hot water… Wasn't this setting up temptation? Amitabha, may the gods preserve his virtue.
The mont he spoke, Sheknia, realizing she had misspoken twice in a row, felt so embarrassed that she could no longer stay in the car. She bit her lip in frustration before hastily saying, "Fine, you pick the place."
With that, she quickly opened the car door and bolted outside, leaving Mavi alone in the back seat, rubbing his temples helplessly.
The car still carried the lingering scent of Sheknia's shampoo. Mavi sighed, then stepped out of the Red Flag sedan and instructed his butler to bring a bottle of 1985 Romanée-Conti and a bottle of 1983 Dom Pérignon.
Fifteen minutes later, in Mavi's room, his butler Ivan arrived carrying the two bottles of wine. Without asking any unnecessary questions, he respectfully opened them and left two wine glasses before discreetly exiting.
He even had the Russian bodyguards stationed outside move to the other end of the hallway—to ensure their young master's evening would remain undisturbed.
The burly but not-so-bright Russian bodyguards had no idea what was going on, but they followed orders without question.
Just as they moved away, the doorbell to Mavi's suite rang.
"Ding-dong!"
The crisp sound of the doorbell sohow lifted Mavi's spirits.
He casually opened the door, and there she was—Sheknia, her long hair now cascading down, standing elegantly before him.
Without her military cap and with her hair down, Sheknia looked entirely different from how she did during the day. She now carried an alluring charm, far removed from her usual strict deanor. For a mont, Mavi almost didn't recognize her.
"Well? Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to invite in?" Sheknia asked, running her fingers through her hair. In the military, few had ever seen her like this—soft, elegant, and undeniably captivating.
"Co in," Mavi said, stepping aside.
Sheknia smiled at him before walking gracefully into the suite, heading toward the sitting area where the two bottles of wine waited.
"1985 Romanée-Conti?" she noted, imdiately recognizing the prestigious wine. As the daughter of an admiral, she had been exposed to fine wines before. But one thing puzzled her—where had these bottles co from? The hotel didn't seem to offer wine of this caliber.
"Oh, I always keep so on my private jet," Mavi answered casually. He had already gone through most of the wine he had purchased on his last trip to the U.S. It was probably ti to have his butler restock.
Sheknia blinked at him, but said nothing. She had spent most of her life in the military, and she couldn't imagine living as extravagantly as Mavi.
"Would you like red wine or champagne first?" Mavi asked, pouring himself a glass of red wine.
"Red wine," Sheknia replied, gracefully taking a seat beside him. The two then began savoring their drinks.
"Cheers."
"Cheers."
As three, then five glasses of red wine and champagne went down, the room seed to grow warr. Sheknia was now slightly tipsy, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue. Paired with her military uniform, the contrast was strikingly alluring.
"Maybe we should stop here for tonight?" Mavi suggested, noticing her growing intoxication.
But Sheknia shook her head. "Stop drinking so soon? I'm not even close to being done! I really am sorry for earlier today—co on, another toast!"
She poured herself another glass of red wine, clinked it against Mavi's, and then tilted her head back, drinking it in one go.
Watching her under the soft glow of the lights, Mavi couldn't shake the feeling that her reason for drinking with him tonight went beyond just an apology.
(End of Chapter)
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