Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Alexei
“I can’t thank you enough for everything you have done for me, Alexei.
” Violet’s voice jolted me out of my daydream, and my eyes flew open.
In a way, this was better than any daydream I had ever had because reality meant she was right here in front of me, wearing the clothes I had bought her, draped in the diamonds I had put around her throat.
Violet deserved all of it. She might have been born poor just like Amy, but unlike Amy, Violet had been born for this kind of life. She had always fit in so well.
Leaning back on the sofa, I watched her move around. Her painted nails scraped against the wood grain of the bookshelves.
“I thought you would have changed all this.” Her nails click-clacked on the old wood. “I know how you hate old, worn-out things.” Turning, she smiled at me, and I felt a familiar flutter in my chest.
Why did she have to look at me like that? Like she knew all of my secrets without me even having to say anything. Maybe because she did, I reminded myself.
It was Violet herself who was still keeping it a secret from me. It had been three days since my birthday party and almost two weeks since I had found her in my grandfather’s room, and all she would tell me was that the man who got her pregnant was a bad man.
I knew bad men, I knew how to handle them, but I couldn’t protect her or her unborn baby unless I knew the specifics.
“Sit down Violet,” I said in a quiet command.
She ignored me completely. “I always thought you would spend your married life in the penthouse overlooking the park.” Her eyes skidded over to me. “But then again, I always thought it would be us who were married,” she added sadly.
So had I. “Things change, and Amy likes it here. It’s closer to her sister.”
“It is such a quaint home. I can see why she would feel at ease here.”
My eyebrows shot up. There was nothing quaint about this home. It was a god damn mansion and worth more than my penthouse. But it wasn’t flashy, and that’s what she meant.
“Where is Amy anyway? I’ve not seen her a lot,” wandering toward me, she sat opposite and crossed her legs, giving me a great view of her legs. Catching my stare, she smiled, and I tore my gaze away. “I hope you haven’t been neglecting her, Alexei,” she chided.
My gut twisted with sudden guilt. I hadn’t seen my wife, not since the morning after my party. I kept meaning to go and find her. She had been pretty adamant that he had needed to talk to me, but getting Violet settled seemed to be taking up most of my time.
Amy would understand, though. Violet needed looking after. Amy was a fighter, and she knew how to arrange things. If there was a real problem with anything, I knew she would tell me or just sort it out herself.
Still, I really did need to explain things better to her so that she didn’t jump to the wrong conclusion.
The thought made me turn my attention back to the woman opposite me. I need to know the details if I wanted to fill my wife in, and she deserved to know if there was any danger.
I made a mental note to increase security around her.
“Violet.”
“Yes, my love?” she asked, and I shook my head. She kept doing that, calling me her love, and part of me wanted to react to it, but then I remembered I was a married man. Amy might not have been my first choice, but she was my wife.
“Who is the father of your child?”
Her eyes danced away, lifting her finger to her hand. She began to chew on her manicured nails I had only just paid for.
“You need to tell me,” I said louder when she didn’t answer me, “so I can make sure Amy is also safe. If there’s any risk—”
I fell silent as she jumped up from her chair, almost screaming as she raked her nails down her face. “You care for her more than you care for me. If you hate me so much, why not just kick me out? You don’t love me anymore. You love her.”
The outburst was unexpected but not completely alien to me. She had been throwing tantrums for as long as I had known her, and that was a long time. With a sigh, I gathered her up into my arms and dragged her down onto my lap.
Her thin body was so familiar to me, but somehow it felt wrong, like she didn’t fit anymore.
“You are being a child,” I chided. “Amy is—”
Her head snapped around. Her eyes narrowed into slits. “You are in love with her?” There was shock and disbelief in her voice. “Holy fucking shit, Alexei, you—”
Catching her chin between my fingers, I forced her to look into my eyes. “Amy is my wife, watch what you say about her,” I threatened.
I didn’t know what made me say it. It wasn’t like I was actually in love with Amy, but I was responsible for her. I had been the one who had pushed for this marriage, and I had to make it work for my grandfather’s sake.
“She doesn’t have to be,” Violet said.
I let go of her like her skin suddenly burned me and pushed her off my lap.
“I am not divorcing my wife, Violet.” Standing up, I moved to the far corner of the room.
I don’t know how I had missed it, but it looked like an easel was set up there, one of the ones I had was Amy.
It looked like she had been working on something.
“We could be together and—”
“No.” Standing in front of it, I gazed down at the image and recognized it straight away. It was clear that Amy had painted it from memory, but it might well have been a photograph because I remembered the moment so well.
My head in her lap, our faces flushed and hair dishevelled. Amy had one hand in my hair and the other pressing a strawberry to my half-parted lips. The only thing that was different from reality was the fact that she had painted us dressed, and we had most definitely been naked that morning.
My balls drew up. I missed my wife. I missed our morning together. How long had it been since we had actually been together? I didn’t know, but it would need to change soon because—Oh damn, I missed her.
“This is—”
I felt the air behind me move as Violet came to stare around my shoulder. The atmosphere shifted and turned icy.
“What is this?” she asked, her voice full of fury. Turning to her, I took her arm and tried to move her away from the painting that Amy had clearly put her heart and soul into. Pushing past me, Violet stood right in front of it, and her face twisted as she took in every minute detail.
“Is this?” Her voice shook. “Is this how you are with her?”
I didn’t know what to say about that. Because clearly what happened between Amy and me was none of her business. She took my silence for what it was.
“Answer me, God dammit. Did this really happen?” she whirled on me, and I could see the next tantrum come to life in her pale eyes.
“Yes. She is my wife.”
“How many times?” she screeched. “How many times?”
I really didn’t know how to answer that question.
Reaching down, she caught up a paint pot and held it threateningly. I lifted my eyebrow. “Put that down, Violet,” I said coldly. “Before you make a mess.”
She just brandished it higher. Holding it above her head. “Tell me, were you making love with her and playing happy families while I was being used and violated. I thought you only loved me, you promised me,” she screamed.
The blood drained from my face. Had she just said she had been violated? It suddenly all made so much sense. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to tell me all the details because whoever had put a baby in her belly had raped her.
I was a bad man. I had literally been raised to hurt people to get ahead, but if there was one thing I hated, it was a man who took advantage of a woman. It was a deep-rooted hatred because it was exactly how I had come into existence, and I’d lost my mother because of it.
Rape had been the reason I was born and raised by my grandfather.
“Violet.” My voice dropped to an agonised whisper. “I am so sorry. What can I do?”
“Tell me, you will look after me. Just like you always promised you would, Alexei.”
“I will always make sure you and the baby are supported.
“And Amy?”
I cut her off before she could even finish the sentence. “Amy is my wife, and she will remain my wife.” Shaking my head, I wandered around. I was almost certain that I’d just heard the front door open and close, and I wanted to see if it was Amy.
I also didn’t want to continue this conversation if it were my wife. Screaming profanities, Violet launched the paint pot at the painting, sending red paint, the colour of blood, in a wide arch like arterial spray.
“You son of a bitch.”
Amy appeared in the doorway, her brown curls pulled back from her face, but a little windswept. The first thing I noticed was how pale she was. There were deep, dark smudges under her eyes like she hadn’t been sleeping.
“Amy, are you OK?” I took a step forward, ignoring the paint that made my shirt cling to me.
“What did you do?” Amy whispered, and at first, I was confused. What did she mean by that? But Amy wasn’t looking at me. Her eyes were glued to the canvas and the woman standing in front of it.
It happened in the blink of an eye. The shocked expression snapped off her face and was replaced by a white-hot rage. I’d never seen my sweet little wife ever look like that before.
Before I could even blink, she launched herself at Violet, her feet slipping on the paint on the floor. Catching Violet around the waist, she smashed her to the ground. Violet screamed for me.
“What did you do?” Amy screamed right back and lifted her arm again. “Why do you have to ruin everything good?”
I caught Amy up around the waist and dumped her over my shoulder, locking her there as I rushed out of the room.
“Let the fuck go of me.” Her small hands beat on my back, and her booted feet kicked at my chest, but I didn’t let go of her until we were back in the room we had recently shared.
“You.” I pointed a finger at her. “Will stay here until you learn how to act like a lady.”
“She ruined the painting.” Her shoulders slumped.
“It was an accident, Amy.” I lied. “And even if it wasn’t,” I regarded her coolly “No wife of mine goes around attacking people. You need to learn some manners around our guests.”
“She isn’t my guest. She is yours,” she countered.
“That is true. She is my friend, and I won’t see her hurt. She’s been hurt enough. I don’t expect you to understand Amy, but I will explain when you have calmed down.”
Slowly, she lifted her head. “Oh, I understand, Alexei. She’s pregnant.”
I stared into the accusation in her eyes and didn’t know what to say. It didn’t really matter how she knew. What did matter was the look of disgust she was giving me.
Nodding my head once, I moved towards the door. “You will stay here until you are ready to apologize.”