“You've never experienced this in your childhood, right?”
“No,” I answered. “I've never had to deal with this type of situation before. But I guess it bothers me more because Roman is involved in it.”
Alina brought my head down to her shoulder and rubbed my hair gently. I was relieved for a short while, yet the impossible had already happened, and it pained me that I was clueless about it.
“Well…you'll have to get used to it,” she said. I didn't want to get used to this. I hated the feeling of having to know that someone whom I cared about was nowhere to be found, and noone had a clue about his whereabouts. This wasn't something I needed to get used to. This was something Roman had to work on. Of course, I understood very clearly how he always seemed to be in control of everything. But we weren't strangers anymore, but partners. Whatever happened to his promises about being here for the baby and me?
My mind was stressed, and it didn't get better, even with Alina's care. It would've been a very modest gesture if he left a note or something. Whatever the meeting was, if it had to begin with a sense of urgency that left me feeling so emptied of knowledge, then it became a problem.
“It becomes hard when one begins to fall in love,” she said, and I sat upright. What in the world did she mean by that? Was that a tease? A mockery? Love? Was she implying that I was in love with Roman?
“You must be mistaken, Alina,” I said. “I doubt I'm in love with Roman.”
“For real?” She asked. Her question took on a sort of weight, and I had nothing to say.
But then, the question is, if I didn't love him, why did I feel this way? The tension I felt without him and the calm I felt when he was around me were evidence of what Alina said. She could be right, I thought. I think what I felt for Roman was beyond basic attraction. It was something more. Something that words couldn't describe. A type of feeling that didn't just sweep one off his feet but made him float. It was an addictive feeling.
“Oh, my goodness,” I said to myself, in the realization that it was true. I did love Roman, but it was damn hard to admit. Why would love feel so good and bad at the same time? Saying it in my thoughts shook me. It wasn't just a statement. It had its own very life, and I lived it. I was living proof that I lived in my own romantic story. Maybe I was too dumb to see the lines, or perhaps it could be that the lines were blurred. There had to bean explanation for the way I felt each time he touched me. I knew that I didn't just dress to impress the public whenever we went out together, maybe for a gala or a press event. I dressed for him because I wanted him to think I looked good. I wanted us to look good, and it so happened that the reality of this truth came in at a crucial moment in my life.
There were lots of things to love about Roman. The first being his charming gaze. His stern posture and proud gait. He walked like he owned everyone and everything, yet he remained humble, though stubborn. Sometimes I believed that his obsession with control only made him tough, but that's who he was. And I also liked that about him. He wasn't afraid to take risks or stand in the middle of harm's way. He meant what he said and what he promised. I could say Roman was a man of his word, and that was even more attractive. And those green, gentle-looking eyes held me back from wanting to throw unnecessary tantrums. I got lost in them, carried away by the way they sparkled in the light. All I wanted was to see Roman. I wanted to hold him close to myself and tell him that I loved him. If only that were possible, I sighed, knowing firmly well how hard it was to admit it.
I pictured how he would take it. Would he smile? Would he say it back? But what if he didn't feel the same way I felt about him? I thought. I wouldn't want to stand in the face of such embarrassment. But love wasn't the type of thing to get embarrassed about. You either loved someone or you didn't. I remembered all the things he said to me, all his promises of care. The previous night gave me a little clue about what Roman felt about me, and I really enjoyed the intimacy we had. His eyes were filled with desire, and the way he kissed me with such intensity made me open up to him.
His sweet gestures were something I knew every woman would die for. He didn't dare take his eyes off me for any reason.There were times I thought he'd get tired and shrug it off, but he didn't. He kept on looking like I took on a new form every day. He made me feel happy. He made me feel safe, and he made me believe that he was the right man to raise our baby.
I loved Roman, and I wanted him to hear me say it. I didn't care what was going to happen, I thought. All I knew was that I had to see Roman, and when I saw him, I'd tell him how I felt about him without any filter.
***********
I stood up and walked towards the balcony, inhaling the fresh air that blew past me. The morning was splendid. The bird flew by; the clouds were few. But then, something caught my attention. I saw a few black SUVs drive towards the mansion. I stood still, trying to figure out what the hell was happening. And while I stood, many more SUVs drove through and pulled up at the front of the mansion.
“This isn't good,” I said. Things like this didn't just happen. It meant something, and in this case, I had the sense that it was something sinister. My pulse increased, and I felt the cold at the tip of my fingers; my belly churned with a wild burn. No, something was definitely wrong. For all the times when I stayed at the mansion, nothing of this sort ever occurred. And it so happened to be on the very day Roman wasn't home. These were not guests; if they were, they'd know where to meet him.
So I walked back inside, picked up the phone, and called Romans' office. His line didn't go through, and it made me panic. What was I to do?
I kept calling, and he didn't respond. My mind was scattered, and I felt as though I was going to explode. So I headed to Roman's study, deciding to take matters into my own hands. Upon my entrance, I spotted a board with intelligence reports and photos all connected with pins and a thin red thread. At the center of it all was Arkady's face. The lines were connectedto his offshore accounts, smuggling routes, and a name which I thought was mysterious because it read “final sale.”
The entire board looked chaotic. My father really had a streak of evil things going on, and I was behind the scenes in all of this. I felt like I hadn't scratched the surface of the insane things my dad did, and it pained me to see my father meddling in all this foolishness.
While I was looking at the board, I heard footsteps walk into the room. My heart jumped, and I wondered who that was. It must be those men, I thought. It could be that the people in the black SUVs had finally found their way into the mansion, and I was at risk. My head felt warm, and it was hard to breathe. I stood still, cautious of my every move because I didn't want to make a sound.
The doors opened, and Stepan walked in. I felt busted, yet he didn't do anything. Instead, he looked at me with no emotion and tossed me a burner phone.
“If you need to contact Roman, do it through this phone only. If you're going to play wife, at least learn who's coming for you.”
His words confused me, but I didn't care. The panic I felt was now reduced by a fragment with the knowledge that I had a means to contact Roman.
“I'm here to keep you safe,” he added. I looked at Stepan's face, sighed, and looked back at the phone.
“Thanks,” I said. He looked unmoved by my gratitude. At the very least, I was calm. I knew something happened. Something I couldn't explain, yet felt eerie. Stepan's presence invited me to be a little calm. Yet, I thought of Roman. Where he was and what in the bloody hell he was up to.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Roman’s POV
My thoughts were everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The underground safe house had a unique scent of dust and paint when I walked in. The air was air-conditioned. The lighting was a bit dim. Viktor sat on the chair across the table while Konstantin leaned on the wall with his arms folded. Their faces weren’t hopeful, but full of gloom. That made me wonder if we had the answers or not.
“Care to sit?” Viktor’s hands pointed to the chain in front of me.
