Chapter 22
Iam horrified. I have never seen anything like that in my life and I’m struggling to even comprehend how much money Valentin just spent. I will never be able to pay this debt off now and as soon as the door closes, I say icily, “If you think I’m impressed with that frankly reprehensible display of macho pride, then you can think again.”
“Macho pride?” He laughs out loud. “You amuse me, Polly.”
“Well, you infuriate me.” I snap. “What were you thinking? I don’t need that stuff. Everything I need is in here.”
I lift the carrier bags and hiss, “And back in Sussex, where I actually live and would prefer to head back to tomorrow.”
“Lived.” He says with a smirk and I stutter, “Live, you arrogant piece of shit.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize my mistake, his warning on disrespecting him hanging heavy in the air along with the promise of what he would do.
I can’t take them back, so I brazen it out and his eyes glitter dangerously as he says in a deep growl, “What did you call me, Polly?”
I swallow hard.
“You heard me.”
”I want to hear you say it again.”
He says ominously and I edge away from him against the side of the car and say in a high voice, “I don’t remember and anyway, I don’t want your things. You should return them all for a refund, or waste your money for all I care. That was your posturing show and you can deal with the consequences.”
Before the final word leaves my mouth, I find myself lying across his knee and I scream in mortification as he bunches my skirt around my waist in one hand and slaps me hard on the ass with the other one.
“Fuck!” I yell, which earns me another blow, and as the tears pool in my eyes, I scream. “I hate you.”
He wrenches my skirt down and pushes me back to my seat, and I hate the tears that run down my face after the most humiliating moment of my life.
“I warned you, Polly, and I will not apologize for something you earned.”
“Earned!” I sob, and I hate that he broke me.
“I earned nothing. You are what I said, and you just proved it.” My shoulders sag as I say in defeat, “Just let me go, Valentin. I don’t want to play your games anymore.”
He says nothing and pulls out his phone, his mouth set in a grim line as he completely ignores me. I’m not sure if that’s worse and I turn away and stare morosely out of the window and wish my life was less complicated. As I press my head against the glass, I allow the tears to trickle down my face and wonder if I will ever lead a normal life without fate using me as a punching bag every single time.
I am so wrappedin my own misery I don’t register where we are and as the cars stop, I glance up and stare in disbelief at the white townhouse beside us.
“Where are we?” I ask, noting the fine iron railings surrounding it and the marble steps leading up to a grand entrance.
“Your London house.” Valentin says dismissively, and I stare at him in shock.
“She has a flat here?”
“No, Polly.” Valentin shakes his head. “She has a house here and you’re looking at it.”
“This is Aunt Veronica’s house?” I gasp and he shrugs.
“I’m just surprised it’s so small, knowing my father and his desire for the best.”
“Small!” I exclaim in utter amazement. “This place is huge.”
“If you say so.”
Valentin grasps my wrist and says with a warning, “Now, be a good girl and accept this is your life now. Don’t dwell on things that are out of your control and refrain from commenting because it will change nothing.”
“What are you talking about?” I shake my head in confusion, not really sure if he’s referring to the property or the way he has completely overtaken my life.
“Accept it and deal with it.” He replies roughly as the car door opens and I stare at the grim expression of the man in black waiting patiently for me to exit.
I step out into the brilliant sunshine of London and blink in disbelief as a man stands waiting with an anxious expression.
“Miss Scott-Stanley. Welcome to Briar House.”
I stare at him in surprise and he says nervously, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m David Marchant, a representative from Harvey Williams. We are the agents of your aunt’s London business dealings and have been holding the keys in her absence.”
He bows his head. “I am so sorry for your loss. Miss Scott-Stanley was a valued customer of ours.”
He holds out his hand and I notice the bunch of keys in it and he says with a smile, “Please, allow me to show you around. There is a security system that you need to be aware of and several things you should learn before taking up occupancy.”
I stare after him as he heads up the stairs and a gentle push from behind spurs me into action.
It’s as if I’m in a trance as I follow him inside and I stare around with astonishment at the smart black-and-white floor tiles and white walls. There are green six foot potted plants in huge urns and elegant tables set against the walls minus any flower arrangements.
The entire house feels empty, even though it is furnished. Almost as if it was placed in moth balls which tells me she didn’t use it much. It has none of the coziness of Thorn House but is elegant and refined, whereas the country house was not. This is wealth on a grand scale, and I clutch my carrier bag tightly as I gaze around in awe.
Valentin and his men enter with me, and I’m mildly aware of his men heaving the boxes of paperwork from the cars and loading them into a room off the hallway. I follow David in a daze as he points out things I should know, but it doesn’t sink in.
Luckily, Valentin follows us and David soon addresses him rather than me when he realizes that Valentin is the only one listening.
I can’t believe what I’m seeing as we wander through magnificent rooms in a house that must have cost millions in one of Kensington’s most prestigious addresses.
I can’t even listen to what David is saying. My mind is buzzing with it all and it’s only when we reach the end of the tour and find ourselves once again by the front door, I manage to find my voice at all.
“Um, thank you. It’s a lot to think about.”
“Of course.” He smiles respectfully and holds out a monogrammed card. “Please take my contact details and call me with any questions, day or night. I am hoping to continue our working relationship and no question will remain unanswered.”
He steps back and I say quickly, “Um, I do have one question.”
“Of course.”
“The keys.”
He laughs in embarrassment as he hands them to me and I say quickly, “I mean, is this the only set?”
I’m mindful of the last time I asked this question and why, and yet from the looks of things, this house hasn’t been touched in some time.
“We have a spare set at the office in a secure safe.” He answers. “We are happy to continue the agreement, or return them to you if you prefer.”
“No, um, it’s fine, thank you.”
I’m surprised when he peers around him and then steps closer and says in a low voice, “This may not be the appropriate time, but I wondered if you could attend the office at your earliest convenience.”
“Why?” I’m confused, and he glances past me to Valentin and I can tell he is awkward around him, so I nod toward the street outside.
“I’ll show you out.”
I turn to Valentin and say firmly, “I won’t be a minute.”
He obviously notices my expression and merely nods, staring after us thoughtfully as we exit. When we get outside, I move a short distance away from the men currently emptying the cars and say with a soft smile, “What do you want to tell me?”
He coughs nervously. “Your aunt was a practical woman and her affairs were kept in order. We are, um–” He glances around nervously and then says in a whisper, “That is, we have details of her safety deposit boxes and certain paperwork only to be opened in the event of her death by her beneficiary. She was most clear on that Miss Scott-Stanley. You must come alone and open them in private, away from the house. They were her strict instructions and I must ask you to keep this information to yourself, um, also as per her instructions.”
The expression in his eyes conveys how serious he is taking this and my heart is beating furiously as I consider the mystery surrounding me now. Aunt Veronica has many secrets, it seems, and I am the only person alive who is now privy to them.
He steps back and nods politely. “I will await your call, Miss Scott–Stanley, and remember, discretion will work in your favor.”
He briefly smiles and then heads off down the smart street. Clutching his coat around him like a shield and I stare after him in bemusement because what the hell is happening? I am stumbling from one mystery to another and don’t know who to trust and yet there is one man standing center stage in all my dreams and nightmares who I am aching to talk this through with.
But I can’t.
This may involve his father and, subsequently, him. I could be in danger, or about to discover the Holy Grail and once again, it reminds me that the only person I can now count on in life is me.