Chapter 45
Iwas true to my word. I fucked Polly all the way to Russia, and she is exhausted.
I am empty.
We are heading at speed toward the Romanov mansion and I never expected to return with my wife.
She is sleeping beside me, her head pressed against my shoulder, my arm securing her in place as if I’m afraid to lose contact with her.
The landscape that passes in a blur is a familiar one and yet it’s as if I don’t know it at all because my life changed when I opened that box and saw my mother’s face inside. The letter was mind-blowing, but that isn’t what shocked me the most.
I have many questions and I’m not sure I’ll like the answers. However, there’s a part of me that hopes it’s a mere coincidence and she isn’t involved with Marsha Steele like the rest of them.
Polly stirs and I whisper, “Sleep, malyshka.”
I drop a light kiss on the top of her head and my heart explodes for her. I’m not sure when I fell in love with Pollyanna Scott-Stanley. It could have been the moment I saw her watching me as I tossed the rose into her aunt’s grave and I turned and saw her for the first time. It could have been when I tasted her soft lips and gazed into her beautiful eyes, or it could have been a gradual stealing of my soul when she smiled in my direction.
I’m not troubled by that. I welcome it because now, through this entire shit show, I found someone I wasn’t expecting to find.
I found her.
She is mine, all mine. Just for me, only ever for me and I will guard my prize well. Having Polly beside me is like walking beside your heart. I cannot live if she is not by my side. She is the reason I can put one foot in front of the other. I’m not even terrified that I need her so much. I welcome it because now my life has a purpose. Now I’m fulfilled and no longer on my own. She is worth more than my billions because she gives me something money can never buy. She gives meaning to my life and right now, as I navigate the storm, she is the only person I can rely on to keep me from crashing and burning.
We turninto the driveway and pass the necessary security checks. Our mansion is a stronghold that even family must prove they deserve entry to. We take no chances with our safety, which is why it’s so important to solve the mystery of our father’s murder.
Somebody got to him when he should have been safe.
Somebody murdered our father in his own home.
“Wake up, malyshka. We are home.”
“Home.” Her soft voice is sleepy, causing me to smile as she stirs and sits up, her lashes fluttering against her creamy white skin.
I love watching her expressions. She is like a child discovering new delights and as she stares at the home we all share, rising majestically before us, her mouth drops open and she gasps, “Wow!”
She turns to me and I register the astonishment on her face as she gasps, “This is your home? It’s like a palace.”
“It’s our home, not just mine. You live here now.”
“In Russia?” Her eyes widen and I laugh softly, reaching out and trailing my finger down her face, resting on her soft lips. She opens her mouth to speak, but I get there first and capture her unspoken words with a soft kiss.
This will never get old. Kissing Polly is like sampling the most delicious flavor in the world. I am addicted to it—to her and my only regret is that she doesn’t realize the extent of my infatuation with her. She has doubts about my intentions. I see it in her eyes, but I’m too emotionally retarded to be able to deal with that. I am a master at wrapping emotion in a tightly sealed package inside my heart, much like the rest of my family. I can only demonstrate with actions rather than words, and so I pull back and stare deep into her eyes.
“I have something for you.”
“Again?” A mischievous smile dances across her lips, causing me to laugh softly.
“Later. No, this is long overdue.”
I reach inside my jacket and pull out a velvet-covered box and her eyes widen as I open it and say, “It’s a little late, but will you marry me, Pollyanna Romanov?”
“No.” She giggles adorably. “I can’t because I’m already married to the love of my life and nothing will ever change that.”
This time, she reaches up and trails her fingers down my face, resting on my lips and whispers, “I love you, Valentin Romanov, and it’s perfectly fine if you can’t say it back. I just want you to know that.”
She deserves a response, but I can’t give it to her. The words stick at the back of my throat. Words that have never featured in my life before now.
Instead, I slip the ring from the box and glide it to meet her wedding band and as I hold the million dollar diamond in my hand, a deep feeling of possessiveness sweeps through my soul. This is the moment Polly is truly mine. Not when I fucked her senseless on the journey out here. Not when we said our vows before the registrar and not when she accepted my proposal. It’s now, in the car, as I prepare to walk into my family home with my wife by my side. It’s the moment I placed my ring on her finger, the moment when her life belonged to me.
We enterthe house as one unit. Hand in hand, husband and wife. I understand how Mikhail must have felt by bringing Lilli home. Not as his wife, though, his girlfriend. I’ve gone one step further and I’m not sure how it will be received.
Mama is waiting and her expression of delight is not reaching her eyes and my heart sinks.
“Valentin.” She heads toward me and pulls me into her arms and whispers, “I am so angry with you.”
Then she pulls back and does the same to Polly, who is apprehensive as she faces her mother-in-law for the first time.
“Welcome, honey. I’m Grace, Valentin’s mama, and it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She steps back and a brief expression of confusion flits across her eyes and she says thoughtfully, “You remind me of someone.”
I swear my heart pauses a beat as I sense her mind working hard and she peers even closer. “You remind me of an old school friend I had. She had the same features and the same color hair.”
Polly makes to speak and I interrupt and pull the photograph from my pocket and say, “Is this her?”
I should have waited and I should have discussed it with Titus first, but I wanted to see the expression on her face the moment she realized exactly who Polly is.
“Where did you get this?” She reaches for the photograph and Polly stills beside me as mama stares at it with a misty expression in her eyes.
“This was so long ago. A lifetime, in fact.”
She shakes her head and stares at the photo with a wistful expression.
Then she glances at Polly and says in disbelief, “Is Veronica your mother?”
“No.” Polly shakes her head. “My aunt.”
Mama looks between us and appears more confused than guilty, which settles my heart a little but doesn’t change the fact her dead husband’s mistress is standing beside her in the photograph.
We are interrupted as my sister Ana heads our way with a broad smile on her face.
“You’re still alive then.”
“Ana!” Mama admonishes her and she rolls her eyes.
“When mama heard you were bringing your wife home, she hit the roof.”
Polly shifts nervously and Ana turns to her and smiles. “Not because he married you. You are most welcome here, Polly. No, it’s because mama was cheated out of months of planning and acres of social engagements in arranging your wedding.”
Polly smiles awkwardly and I can tell this is a lot for her and so I slip my arm around her shoulders and pull her close, dropping a light kiss on her head and saying firmly, “Why wait? I wanted to marry. It’s done. No drama, no other reason than I wanted to, and you have four other children to fuss over when they decide to follow me.”
Ana laughs out loud but mama shakes her head sadly and says to Polly, “Forgive my children, honey. They have no understanding of romance. Their father was the same. Business has taken over their soul and everything is done with a practicality that removes any emotion from their lives. If I am disappointed, it’s because I never got to enjoy the planning with you. We have been denied our chance to get closer because the deed is already done.”
She peers down at the photograph and smiles sweetly. “Come and tell me about darling Veronica. We were such good friends and I hope she is well.”
“She’s dead.” I don’t mess around and the horror on mama’s face makes me breathe an audible sigh of relief.
“Dead.” She stares at the photograph and I detect her hands tremble.
“How?”
Polly directs a sharp look my way and says gently, “It was an accident. An explosion in her Devon home. She wouldn’t have known it happened.”
“I’m so sorry, Polly.”
Mama pulls her in for a hug and Polly whispers, “I never knew her.”
Mama steps back and appears confused about that.
“Why not?”
Ana interrupts and says firmly, “Give Polly a chance to settle in before one hundred questions, Mama. Come, there is refreshment waiting in the reception room. We can talk there.”
As I reach for Polly’s hand, Ana says sharply, “Not you, Valentin. Titus is waiting to speak with you in his den.”
I note the stricken expression on Polly’s face as mama takes her arm and as they head off, I am frustrated because that is a conversation I definitely wanted to hear.