Chapter 43
Polly’s breathing is fast as we peer inside the box. “Do you think this is what they were looking for?” She asks as we stare at the folded envelope that is slightly yellow in age. I notice the Russian presidential logo on the front and my heart beats like a drum inside me.
I pull out the envelope and turn it over, noting that it has been opened already. My fingers shake as I pull out the letter and note the Russian script that causes Polly to groan. “Bother. I can’t read that.”
“But I can.” I remind her and scan the page with a great deal of interest.
I say nothing because there must be some mistake. The words are so sensational it must be. As I stare at the letter, Polly lifts a photograph from the box and says in a low whisper, “Is this my aunt with Marsha Steele?”
It distracts my attention, but my mind is buzzing and as I glance at the photograph, it may as well have punched me in the heart. Polly is holding a photograph of four women and as I reach for it, I swallow hard.
“Who are the other two?” She whispers as we stare at the slightly yellowing image and my voice doesn’t sound like my own as I say roughly, “I’m not sure of the last one, but I know the third one. Very well indeed, as it happens.”
“You know her?” Polly is overcome with excitement, but I am devastated.
She must sense something because she says with concern. “Are you okay? You’re shaking.”
I stare at the third woman standing beside Veronica and whisper huskily, “The woman standing beside your aunt is my mother.”
“I don’t understand?”
She looks confused and I wish I could enlighten her, but I’m as shocked as she is.
The photograph is old, the women pictured mere teenagers.
Polly peers over my shoulder. “I wonder how old they were?”
“Eighteen perhaps.”
I can’t tear my eyes away from the photograph, a million thoughts dragging through my mind.
“I can’t believe my aunt knew your mother. I wonder where this was taken?”
Polly is babbling on, but my mind is only half on what she is saying. I have so many questions, not to mention the disturbing document I hold in my hand and Polly says innocently, “So, what does the letter say?”
“It’s nothing.” I’m quick to dismiss it and she snaps, “Don’t treat me as a fool, Valentin. I saw the expression on your face when you read it. It’s obviously something extremely damning by the look in your eye, so don’t you think you owe me an explanation after everything we’ve been through?”
“No. I don’t.” I reply abruptly, tucking the letter and the photograph in my pocket and say roughly, “It concerns Russia, and the words were never meant to be common knowledge.”
I turn and stare deep into her eyes and say firmly, “If I tell you, it places you in danger. If anyone asks, plead ignorance of ever finding the letter. Act clueless and they will believe you, but under no circumstances are you to breathe a word of this outside this room.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Her eyes are wide and full of concern, and I nod gravely. “As bad as it gets, malyshka. I believe we have found what we are looking for, and now the most important thing is to head home.”
“To London?”
She sounds concerned and I shake my head.
“To Russia. It’s time you met the rest of my family. We are returning home.”
It doesn’t take long.When I set my mind to do something, it happens at a fast pace and within the hour, we are heading to the international airport and Polly is hyperventilating beside me.
“I can’t go to Russia. I don’t have my passport.”
“I have your passport.” I reassure her and she gasps, “How?”
“As soon as we met, I sent the guards to your home to remove any personal documents. They are now with mine.”
“I’m sorry. Did you just say you instructed your men to break into my flat in West Sussex and rifle through my belongings?”
The expression of horror on her face makes me smile. “Of course. What’s wrong with that?”
“How dare you? I–” She struggles to speak. “That is my personal space. You could have fucking asked me.”
“Please refrain from cursing, malyshka. I expect my wife to behave at all times.” I can’t resist adding to her anger and she gasps, “Behave! Are you freaking kidding me?”
“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it when I put you in your place?” I tease, loving how every word I speak is taken literally and is bringing her blood to boiling point.
“Why did I marry you?” She shouts and I can’t resist and pull her angry lips to mine and kiss her as if she is the only thing that can keep me alive. Right now she is because what I have learned and the problems my family now face are insurmountable and she is a welcome distraction.
Despite her anger, she kisses me back with the same hunger, and as I press her down against the leather seat, I hitch up her skirt and push aside her panties.
She is so wet and I dip two fingers inside her and she moans against my mouth as I pump them in and out, loving how she pushes down onto them.
We turn off the motorway and I pull away, loving her flushed expression and dilated pupils. She is beautiful most of the time but as she responds to my touch, it transforms her into a goddess. My goddess and I stare at her in admiration and whisper huskily, “We will continue this discussion on the plane.”
“We will not.” She sits up rearranging her clothing with a guilty expression on her face and says heatedly, “Just because you’re good at—well, sex, it doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you for burgling my home.”
“Good at sex.” I laugh out loud. “I’ll enjoy showing you just how good at it I am on the journey home.”
“But my things. I haven’t even packed.” Her face is a picture of concern, and I shrug.
“You don’t need anything. I can provide it all, so calm down and enjoy the experience.”
“Calm down!” She makes to deliver another verbal tirade but stops as the window lowers and a security official peers inside. “Passports please, sir.”
Polly stares in amazement as I reach inside the briefcase on the floor and pull out both of our passports. As the official checks them, Polly appears to be in shock and then he nods and hands them back to me.
“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Romanov. Enjoy your flight.”
He steps back and as the window closes, Polly grasps the passport from my hand. “Give me that.”
She glances through it and says incredulously, “How? I mean, when did you change my passport into my married name?”
“The day we married, of course.”
“But how? I mean, I didn’t authorize this.”
She holds it in her hands and stares at me in confusion and I shrug, gathering my things as I say, “I am your husband. I don’t need your authorization.”
Before she can reply, we stop outside the aircraft and as the door opens, she gasps, “What’s this?”
“An aircraft, malyshka. Our aircraft, to be precise.”
We step out into the darkening sky and the lights on the plane glisten in the dusky light. My family’s crest is emblazoned in gold on the tail and the paintwork shines against the dipping sun.
There is a black carpet stretching along the tarmac and my flight attendants are forming a line to welcome us on board. My men are spilling from the other cars and hauling the luggage onto the conveyor belt, leading into the hold. It’s a hive of industry and Polly stares in shock at something she definitely wasn’t expecting.
“Come. We don’t have long before our departure time.”
I acknowledge the crew and as I grip her hand tightly, we embark the plane by the forward steps and as we step inside, Polly gasps again.
“I don’t believe it. This is your private plane. It’s obscene.”
I raise my eyes. “It’s anything but obscene. It’s state-of-the art.”
“I mean–” She shakes her head. “I mean, all of this is for us. It’s not exactly good for our carbon footprint.”
“Then I’ll plant you a forest.” I shrug out of my jacket and toss it on the chair and roll up my sleeves.
“I need a fucking drink. Come and join me.”
She nods as she peers around, her shock guiding her further into the abyss, and as I reach the small bar set before some of the more comfortable seats, I head behind it and reach for the vodka bottle.
“Mr. Romanov.” A flustered stewardess hurries to my side and I wave her away.
“We’ll help ourselves if we need anything. You may attend to my men.”
She heads off with a worried frown and Polly whispers, “What was that all about? She looked worried.”
“She takes her job seriously and wants to provide excellent service. As a family member, the one to impress is me and she won’t feel right about leaving me to serve myself.”
“Then let her, serve you, I mean.” She adds, and I shake my head, a malevolent gleam in my eye.
“No. I need to be distracted and you, as my wife–” I add with a wicked grin. “Will be the most welcome one.”
“How?” She appears confused and I crook my finger and beckon her closer as I lift the bottle to my lips.
“I’m going to fuck you all the way to Russia.”
“Are you now?”
She tries to look angry, but I see the lust light her eyes and I reach out my hand and say, “Come. I have something else to show you.”
As her fingers lace with mine, I grip the bottle in the other hand and lead her into my oblivion.