Chapter 12
CHAPTER 12
TATIANA
I t’s as if I’ve been awake for a hundred years and finally got to sleep soundly in the most luxurious bed I ever believed possible.
It’s ten am when I wake and as I glance at the clock by the bed, fear causes me to sit bolt upright.
I’m late.
That is my first thought and then, as I note my surroundings, confusion takes over before it all comes back to me. Why I’m here and what happened last night.
Revulsion weaves its destructive path through my body as I remember Leo’s gruesome sneer, the burn of his hands on my skin, the pain of his blow to my face and the clutch of his hand on my neck.
Thank God for the men who stormed into the room and saved me. Thank God for Titus Romanov, because when they brought me here, he never questioned me. He allowed me to speak with just a comforting hand in mine and understanding in his eyes.
He is a kind man underneath the dark exterior. A handsome, soul shattering, unbelievable man who, for some reason is to be my husband.
According to the gossip show I watched last night, he is. Will it ever happen? Do I want it to?
It doesn’t help that I’m late for work and as I sprint out of bed, I cast a reluctant gaze over the disturbed sheets, the imprint of my head still pressed into the feather pillow.
The shower revives me and as I pull on my robe; I realize I only have the costume I arrived here in last night, reminding me that Nadia still has my ring.
At least I can trust her. I’m sure it will be safe and Titus didn’t appear bothered by the fact it’s missing.
Today I’ll head to the Bolshoi and apologize for being late and once the ring is back on my finger, I will breathe easier knowing that everything is right where it belongs.
There is a small breakfast waiting for me in the adjoining sitting room and as I take advantage of the warm croissants and bowl of fresh fruit salad, I marvel that people actually live like this.
The coffee is hot and strong, just how I like it and there is even a lemon tea if I prefer instead.
It’s the perfect meal and even more perfect is the fact I’m alone to take it. I can relax having my own space, rather than make polite conversation with a man who is an enigma to me.
A gentle knock at the door causes me to say hesitantly, “Come in.”
I blink at the woman standing there who is dressed in a smart shift dress, clutching an array of garments on hangers.
“Good morning, Miss Pavlov, I am Suzannah Blake, Mr. Romanov’s personal assistant. He asked me to select some suitable clothing for you in the absence of your own wardrobe.”
“He did?” I blink in surprise as she sets the hangers on the couch and smiles. “Please ask if you require a different size or any other item of clothing not provided. I believe he has asked for the rest of your belongings to be delivered later today, but for now these should suffice.”
“Excuse me.” I hesitate as she makes to leave, and she turns, her soft smile rather disarming.
“I–well–I’m sorry, but I’m not sure what is going on. I wasn’t aware I was moving here. What about my apartment?”
She rolls her eyes. “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”
She heads my way and takes the seat opposite and smiles sympathetically.
“That’s typical of Mr. Romanov. Well, from what I understand, you are moving here for your own safety. There is a car waiting to take you to the Bolshoi and when you return, the same car will bring you home. This evening you will be dining at Palazzo with Mr. Romanov and a business associate, along with his wife, and when you leave there, you will share a box at the opera with Boris Fedorov.”
A flicker of distaste passes across her face and she inhales deeply.
“So, if you need anything at all, just call.” She hands me a small white card with her details on and smiles.
“Welcome, Miss Pavlov. I have been instructed to assist you and provide anything you need, be it clothes, jewelry, cosmetics or accessories. I am also your point of contact for information and you can ask me anything.”
“Anything?” My eyes widen and she shrugs.
“I’m not saying I have all the answers, but I’ll tell you what I can.”
She peers at her wristwatch. “The car will be ready in fifteen minutes. I believe you are late and your excuses have been made. If Rodion objects, please let me know, although I’m guessing he won’t say a thing.”
She laughs softly and as she leaves, I stare after her in surprise. Is she my fairy godmother? It certainly feels that way and as I stare at the heap of clothes in their protective wrappers, it’s as if I’ve woken up in a different world entirely.
My life changed overnight and nothing is the same anymore. I travel to the ballet in a chauffeur driven Bentley, the driver appearing almost menacing as he says nothing at all, just nods respectfully as he holds open the door.
When we arrive, he says gruffly, “I will be waiting to take you home at six pm. Do not leave by any other means.”
He accompanies his gruff words with a kind smile that puts me at ease, and I smile. “Thank you.”
He nods and stands watching until I head inside and for some reason, that gives me the reassurance I never knew I needed.
It’s eerily quiet in the Bolshoi today. Usually there is a steady hum of conversation in the air, but not now.
It’s almost deserted and I soon discover the reason why as I find everyone huddled in the practise room with expressions on their faces as if someone has died.
When I walk in, I notice Rodion, ashen-faced, addressing the room and as I hide at the back, I can’t believe what I’m hearing.
“Yuri will take Leo’s place until I decide on a permanent replacement.”
The cold fingers of premonition circle around my heart as I whisper to the dancer beside me, “Where’s Leo?”
Her startled expression causes my heart to leap inside me as she whispers, “He suffered a terrible accident, Tatiana. He is never coming back.”
I have no time to ask what that means before Rodion claps his hands and the crowd disperses, the usual chatter replaced with solemn contemplation.
I slip out to my dressing room. Nadia will fill me in for sure and as I push inside the familiar space, my mind is awash with curiosity.
What happened to Leo?
It takes me a split second to register that something is different in here too. It’s empty.
Usually Nadia is here, readying my costumes and tidying up after the performance from last night, but she’s not. Nobody is here and I glance at the wall where Leo held me against last night and a shiver of premonition hits me as I sense that everything has now changed.
My mind flashes back to how afraid I was when his intentions were clear. The way his hand moved against my bare pussy after he tore my panties aside. The way he struck me hard around my face and the helplessness he left me with. I was a victim. A statistic and had no way of changing that.
Until a miracle happened. Titus’s men forced their way into the room, and then what?
Are they responsible for Leo? Did something happen after I left?
A prickle of fear glides through my soul as I face my reality. I now occupy another world of dark shadows and danger. Nothing is what is should be and somehow deep in my heart I realize that Titus was responsible for whatever happened to Leo.
The door crashes open, causing me to jump and I fully expect it to be Nadia, rushing in voicing voracious apologies about why she is late.
Instead, Rodion stands in the doorway with a face like thunder and he growls, “You’re late.”
I open my mouth to apologize and he waves his hands at me to stop and sighs deeply. “That doesn’t matter. Save your excuses because we are all late to a degree today.”
“What happened, Rodion?” I ask carefully and he sighs, the expression in his eyes devastating to witness.
“Leo suffered an accident last night when he left the theater. An eye witness saw a car hit him as he crossed the road.”
“Is he–?” I dare not say the word, and Rodion shakes his head.
“He’s alive, but incoherent. He is under sedation now because they are due to operate on him today.”
“Operate?” My voice trembles as he whispers in a broken voice edged with despair, “To amputate his legs.”
“No!”
Despite my feelings for Leo, I would never wish that on him and the tears cascade in a torrent down my face as Rodion nods, too upset to speak. After a while, he gasps, “They couldn’t save them. Apparently, they were crushed beyond repair and his only hope is they can fit him with prosthetics in the future, but for now he is confined to a wheelchair and faces months of rehabilitation.”
“The driver?” I question, and he shakes his head.
“Never stopped.”
“But they can find him, or her even?” I ask, even though from the look on his face, I have my answer already.
“Apparently not. There were no cameras and only one eye witness who couldn’t make out the license plate, or even the color or type of car. It appears that nobody saw a thing, which means they get away with murder.”
“But I thought–” I don’t get to finish my sentence because Rodion howls, “They murdered his career, Tatiana. You know what that must feel like. To never dance again. To experience the euphoria dance gives you, the freedom of expression and the lightness to your soul. To live, breathe and dance to the music; become the emotion on the stage. They may as well have killed Leonardo because he will now be dead inside.”
My sobs accompany his words as the full horror of what happened to Leo hits me. My heart breaks for him despite his treatment of me. I know Leo would have raped me. It was evident from the hardened gleam in his eye and yet to lose his legs is Karma at its most deadly. Nobody deserves that for anything.
“Where’s Nadia?”
Rodion asks as he peers around the room as if she is hiding behind the rail or something.
“She hasn’t arrived.”
“What the hell is going on around here?”
His loud roar causes me to jump and my heart thumps as I say, “You don’t think she’s–” I don’t even want to say the words and Rodion slaps his fist on his forehead as he screams. “I can’t take anymore! Lyanka will attend to you and the moment she arrives, I want to see her in my office.”
He storms out and I shiver inside. It’s as if everything has changed in the space of twenty-four hours and not for the better.
It’s only as I prepare to change into my practise clothes that I remember the ring and the cold hand of dread claws at my nerves as I wonder if I will ever see Nadia or the ring again because something is telling me, I won’t.