Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Noelle
"Noelle! It's been forever! How have you been?" Isabella's cheerful voice came through the phone.
"Not bad." I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder, continuing to cross-check the catalog numbers. "How about you?"
"Crazy busy! So much follow-up from the auction. But I'm finally done. Are you free the day after tomorrow? Let's go shopping and have some tea! It's been way too long since we had a proper chat."
"Shopping? Where?"
"There are some lovely boutiques that opened on Ninth Street. I want to check them out. Then we can go to Rittenhouse—you'll absolutely love their pastries!"
That was Philadelphia's most exclusive tea room, elegant and refined, a favorite haunt of society ladies.
"Sounds lovely." I set down my pen. "But I need to ask Kholod first..."
"Ugh..." Her tone carried a hint of annoyance. "It's just tea. He won't say no, will he?"
"You know his temper."
"Fine, fine. Ask him then." Isabella laughed. "Oh, I have a little surprise for you too! You'll find out when we meet!"
"A surprise? What kind?"
"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you!" She sounded mysterious. "Remember to dress up! Love you!"
After hanging up, I felt a long-lost sense of lightness.
Honestly, things had been peaceful lately, but also monotonous. Every day was either organizing antiques in the collection room or reading and painting in the library. Occasionally, I'd have tea with Anastasia, listening to her family stories.
Kholod had indeed moved back to the master bedroom, but he kept his distance. Aside from occasional kisses, he hadn't overstepped. During the day, he handled family business, and at night, he'd just lie quietly beside me, reading documents.
A chance to get out and see friends was more than welcome.
At dinner, I gathered my courage.
"Kholod."
He cut his steak and looked up at me.
Anastasia and Anya also paused, their eyes on me.
"I... Isabella asked me out the day after tomorrow." I tried to keep my tone light and casual. "She wants to go shopping and have tea. May I go?"
Kholod set down his knife and fork, wiping his mouth with his napkin. He didn't answer immediately.
The dining room fell so quiet you could hear the wood crackling in the fireplace.
Anya raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering in her eyes.
Anastasia lifted her wine glass, her gaze moving between Kholod and me.
"Just the two of you?" Kholod finally spoke.
"Yes." I nodded. "She said she wants to catch up."
He fell silent for a moment, his fingertips drumming the table. "What time?"
"Leave at ten, back around four or five."
He studied me, his amber eyes unfathomable. "Fine."
"Really?" I was surprised. "You're okay with it?"
"Since she invited you, go ahead." He picked up his cutlery again, his movements deliberately casual.
I could hardly believe my ears.
"Thank you," I said sincerely.
"But," he suddenly looked up, his expression serious, "you need to be back by seven."
"Okay."
"Noelle, if you're not back by seven, I'll come get you myself."
"Got it." I found it amusing. "I'll be back on time."
He continued eating, satisfied.
Anya leaned back in her chair, teasing. "Noelle, what kind of spell did you cast on Kholod?"
"Anya." Warning laced Anastasia's voice.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." Anya made a zipping motion across her lips.
I kept my head down, feeling my cheeks burn.
Standing in the walk-in closet, I finally chose a light pink knit dress paired with a cream coat—simple, elegant, yet refined.
"Madam, you seem to be in wonderful spirits today." Darya smiled as she adjusted my collar.
"Probably because I get to go out."
"The boss is waiting downstairs. He says he'll drive you personally."
I picked up my purse, my heart racing inexplicably.
Kholod stood in the foyer wearing a charcoal casual suit, less intimidating than usual. When he saw me coming downstairs, he looked up, his gaze sliding from my face to my hem and back again.
"That dress suits you perfectly."
"Thank you." I walked over to him. "You don't need to drive me. Dmitri could—"
"I'll take you." He cut me off, extending his hand. "Let's go."
I placed my hand in his palm, my fingers enveloped by his warmth.
We walked out of the villa side by side. The understated black sedan waited in the courtyard.
He opened the passenger door for me, waited until I was settled, then closed it and walked around to the driver's seat. The engine purred to life, and the car slowly pulled out of the manor.
"Have fun," he said suddenly. "Buy whatever catches your eye."
"Okay."
Outside the window, early spring Philadelphia showed new green on the branches, the sky clear and bright. The car soon stopped in front of Rittenhouse Palm Pavilion.
"Go on."
I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened the door.
"Noelle." He called my name again.
"What?"
"Keep your phone on," he said. "Call me if anything happens."
"Okay."
"I'm serious." He stared at me. "Anything at all."
"I know." I smiled. "Kholod, you're unusually talkative today."
He was momentarily speechless, just watching me intently.
After getting out and walking a few steps, I couldn't help but look back. He hadn't left yet, watching me through the window. I waved at him. He nodded, then finally started the engine and drove away.
"Good afternoon, do you have a reservation?" A uniformed server smiled politely.
"My friend is already inside," I said. "Isabella."
"This way, please." The server nodded immediately.
He led me through the dining area to a quiet booth by the window. Through the large floor-to-ceiling windows, I could see the fountain and greenery of Rittenhouse Square. Sunlight streamed in, warm and inviting.
Isabella was already there. When she saw me, she immediately stood up and waved.
"Noelle! Over here!"
She wore a light blue dress today, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, makeup subtle, looking gentle and sweet.
I hurried over, and she opened her arms for an enthusiastic hug.
"You're finally free!" She released me and pulled me to sit across from her. "Let me look at you—wow, that dress is gorgeous! Pink is absolutely perfect on you! Makes your skin look porcelain!"
"Thank you." I sat down across from her.
"Here, I already ordered tea. Their Earl Grey is divine, and their scones with clotted cream and jam are to die for!"
A server brought tea service and a tiered stand. The three-level silver stand was laden with exquisite treats—finger sandwiches, macarons, fruit tarts, chocolate mousse... Each looked like a work of art.
"It looks incredible." I marveled.
"Right!" Isabella smiled proudly. "I told you this place was worth it. Try this smoked salmon sandwich—it's heavenly!"
The fresh salmon with cucumber and cream cheese had complex, rich flavors. It really was delicious.
"How is it?" She looked at me expectantly.
"Divine!" I nodded. "Isabella, you always pick the most wonderful places."
"Of course!" She poured me tea. "I heard you're helping Mrs. Anastasia organize her collection?"
I nodded. "The family has some Imperial Russian pieces that need re-cataloging."
"Sounds so sophisticated! What kind of things?"
"Faberge eggs, antique jewelry, paintings..." I said. "Each piece is priceless."
"My God!" She gasped. "Aren't you nervous handling all that?"
"At first," I admitted. "I'm used to it now. Every piece has its own story. It's fascinating."
"You're incredible." She said sincerely. "If she's trusting you with something so important, she must truly believe in you."
"Perhaps."
We chatted while enjoying the tea service, the atmosphere light and pleasant.
"Oh, did you see Valentino's show last week?" Isabella said excitedly. "That feathered gown collection was absolutely stunning!"
"I did." I smiled. "But I think it's too dramatic for everyday wear."
"Oh come on, gowns are supposed to be dramatic!" she said. "Those simple everyday pieces are so dull."
"But I like simple."
"Your taste..." She shook her head helplessly. "You could be so much more dazzling."
"Dazzling isn't always wise," I said honestly. "I prefer to keep things low-key."
"Speaking of keeping things quiet," she lowered her voice, eyes sparkling with gossip, "the O'Connell heiress broke up with her fiancé!"
"What happened? I thought they were blissfully happy?"
"Turns out he was cheating! Guess what? She threw her engagement ring right in his face and stormed out!"
"Good for her!"
"Exactly! That's how you deal with cheating bastards!"
We chatted about more society gossip and fashion, time flying by in pleasant conversation.
Checking my watch, it was almost three. "Weren't we going shopping? Should we head out now?"
"Don't rush!" Isabella grabbed my hand. "I haven't given you your surprise yet!"
"Oh, right!" I remembered. "What's the surprise?"
"Guess!"
"I haven't a clue." I laughed. "Just tell me."
"Okay, okay." She set down her teacup, smiling mysteriously. "Get ready for your surprise."
She waved toward a corner of the restaurant.
I followed her gaze—
My smile froze.
Lorenzo was walking over with an enormous bouquet of red roses.
No. This couldn't be happening.
He looked gaunt, his cheeks hollow, eyes sunken. What terrified me most was the obsessive gleam burning in his eyes.
"Surprise!" Isabella beamed innocently, completely oblivious to my horrified expression. "I know you two had a misunderstanding. Lorenzo's been so worried about you, wanting to clear the air. As your mutual friend, I thought I should help you work this out!"
She sounded so reasonable, so well-meaning, yet it sent chills down my spine.
"Isabella..." I shot to my feet, the chair scraping harshly. "This... this isn't a good idea..."
"Why not?" She grabbed my hand, preventing me from leaving, eyes full of confusion. "Noelle, don't be nervous. Lorenzo just wants to talk. He means no harm. You two used to get along so well, didn't you?"
"Things are different now..."
"It's fine! You two chat, I'll pop to the ladies' room."
"Isabella!" I tried to call her back and stand to follow her, but my wrist was seized.
"Noelle."
Lorenzo set the roses heavily on the table, petals scattering. His eyes never left me, filled with long-suppressed emotion.
"You look so much better." His voice was hoarse and trembling. "I've been worried sick about you... thinking about you every single day... wondering if you're all right..."
"Lorenzo, I'm fine." I tried to keep my voice steady, taking a step back. "You don't need to worry. Your injuries... are they healing?"
"Injuries?" He laughed bitterly. "That's nothing. Nothing compared to what you've endured."
"I haven't endured anything..."
"You're still defending him!" He suddenly grew agitated. "You're clearly being held prisoner! Tormented! Why are you still protecting him?"
Other patrons began to stare. Those gazes felt like needles in my back.
"Lorenzo, please calm down." I lowered my voice. "This is a public place..."
"I don't give a damn!" He stepped closer. "Noelle, I came here today to take you away!"
"What?" I was stunned. "Lorenzo, do you hear yourself?"
"I'm perfectly lucid!" His eyes grew more frenzied. "I'll take you away from here! Away from Philadelphia! Somewhere he'll never find you!"
"You've lost your mind!"
"I've never been more clear-headed!" He came around the table, closing in. "That Russian bastard can't give you happiness! He'll only imprison you, torture you, treat you like his possession!"
"Lorenzo, listen to me—"
"No! This time, you listen to me!" He cut me off, advancing. "I've arranged everything! Car's waiting at the back exit, documents are ready! If you're willing, we can leave this instant! New York, Canada, anywhere!"
"I won't go with you!"
"That monster has brainwashed you!" He was nearly shouting. "Are you going to let him cage you forever?"
The whispers around us grew louder.
"What's this about a mark?"
"Isn't that Mrs. Morozov?"
Shame and fury churned in my chest.
"Lorenzo!" I hissed through gritted teeth. "Shut up!"
"I won't!" His voice rose higher. "I want everyone to know what kind of monster Kholod Morozov is! He abuses you, he—"
"Enough!"
I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face.
The sharp sound rang through the restaurant.
Everyone froze.
Lorenzo clutched his cheek, staring at me in disbelief.
"You... you slapped me..."
"Yes!" Tears finally spilled over. "What happens between Kholod and me is none of your damn business!"
"But—"
"No buts!" I wiped my tears away. "What gives you the right to think I need saving?"
His voice was anguished. "Noelle, I know! I know everything! Aunt Sofia forced you! The Bellucci debts forced you! You don't love him—"
"So what? This is my choice!"
"That's martyrdom!"
"Call it whatever you like!" I took a shaky breath. "Lorenzo, now please leave."
"I'm not leaving!" He lunged forward, yanking me closer. "Noelle, come with me! I'll protect you! Give you freedom! I'll—"
"Let go of me!" I struggled fiercely. "Lorenzo, release me!"
"Never!" He gripped tighter. "Noelle, please, come with me..."
Customers around us rose from their seats, some snapping photos with their phones, others murmuring, and someone had summoned the restaurant manager.
I could feel the pain shooting through my wrist, feel the sweat from his palms.
"Isabella! Isabella!" I searched frantically for her, desperate for help. But she was nowhere to be found.
"Stop calling for her!" Lorenzo grabbed me with both hands now. "Come with me! Right now!"
I fought desperately. "Lorenzo, this will only make things worse for me!"
His strength was frightening. "I'm saving you!"
"Let me go!"
"Come with me!"
We grappled like this before everyone's eyes.
I remembered Kholod's parting words, but my purse had tumbled onto the seat, my phone trapped inside, completely beyond reach.
"Lorenzo!" I screamed with every ounce of strength. "If you don't let go, I'm calling the police!"
"Police?" He sneered. "You think the cops dare interfere with Morozov business? Noelle, don't be naive! In Philadelphia, only I can protect you!"
His hands began sliding toward my waist, attempting to lift me bodily.
"Don't you dare touch me!"
"Noelle, don't be frightened, I won't hurt you..."
"Sir!" The restaurant manager finally arrived. "Please stop this! You're disturbing our other guests!"
"Back off!" Lorenzo roared. "This is private business!"
The manager was cowed by his aggression, hesitating and retreating. I looked around desperately—the other patrons merely gawked, no one stepping forward to help.
The pain in my wrist intensified.
Lorenzo's arm was already encircling my waist, preparing to carry me off by force.