Chapter 17: Natalia

It’s been hours since Mikhail left. Yet my lips are still burning from his kiss.

I can still feel the spiral of ecstasy and the hunger that coursed through me for more.

Both are still very much there lingering, like a ghost in my head haunting me.

It’s just before lunch. I’ve been outside with Snow, taking a walk on the extensive grounds of my new home.

It’s much bigger than Raul’s fortress in Mexico, and while I love the idyllic view that came with living on the coast of Mexico, there’s something enchanting about walking around a winter wonderland.

It’s been snowing again. Not as heavily as it did on my first day here, but near enough.

The snow’s settled now, so everything is pretty, like a scene from Frozen, except I’m stuck in a dark fairytale. A dark parody where everything is flipped in reverse, the villains reign, and there’s nothing called a happily ever after.

Snow runs into the patch of snow by the hedge, and I smile because she’s the same color and all I can see are her eyes and pink tongue. Next to the backdrop, she’s so fluffy she looks like a cloud floating by on the ground.

She’s been a good companion to me. I don’t know what I would have done if she wasn’t here. Lord knows I would have gone crazy inside the house, where there’s nothing to do but watch the clock.

I was told I could watch TV, but I don’t like watching TV when I’m not comfortable. Aleksander is always walking around and the maids always cleaning and talking, just not to me. I don’t want to be anywhere where people might be talking about me behind my back.

At least in Mexico, Adriana was a bitch enough to talk to my face.

Since I’m more of a thriller or mystery novel girl and not a big fan of the classical literature books here, going outside was my only option and seems like what I’ll be doing for a long time to come. I do have it on my to-do list to pick up a few novels when I’m next allowed to go to the store.

But that’s the lowest thing on my list of priorities.

In my current state of flux, I don’t think I could sit down and relax my mind long enough to get lost in a novel.

Every day is worse than the last, and I’m left wondering what’s next, or what’s going to happen to me.

The seamstress is supposed to be here in a few hours, so at least I have a heads-up on how the day will go. It’s the part after that I’m worried about.

Since I don’t want anyone to come looking for me, I make my way back when it’s close to lunchtime, and I’m surprised to see an elderly lady talking to Aleksander on the terrace. She has lily-white hair and screams of wealth in her white mid-length fur coat, a brown leather skirt, and ankle boots.

Something tells me from the respectful manner Aleksander is looking at her that she can’t be the seamstress.

When I get closer, she notices me, and her crystal-blue eyes twinkle when she offers a kind smile. It’s genuine and not forced like most of what I’ve seen so far in this house.

She looks back at Aleksander and says something to him in Russian. I catch the mention of Snow’s name, but that’s all I recognize.

Aleksander then comes up to me and takes the dog while the woman makes her descent down the steps to meet me.

“My dear, you are as lovely as I’ve heard,” she observes, her smile brightening.

“Thank you.” It’s a great compliment any girl would love, but it gets under my skin because everyone who says it is talking about Adriana. Although they’re looking at me and observing what I look like.

“I am Sophia Dmitriyev, Mikhail’s aunt,” she introduces herself with an elegant dip of her head. My stomach dips at the same time, twisting into more knots.

Mikhail’s aunt?

God. Now what is she going to be like?

My lips tremble at the worry of more backlash from someone else.

I can’t imagine she’s going to welcome me with open arms when my presence here is due to Raul killing her sister-in-law and niece.

“Nice to meet you,” I answer, carefully. I’m sure it’s not supposed to be nice to meet her, but I say it because I don’t know what else to say.

“Please do not look so worried.” She holds up both dainty hands. “I mean you no harm. Mikhail asked me to make the arrangements with the seamstress to see you today. I thought I’d come by and meet you before she gets here. Maybe even help you pick out your dress. That’s all, I promise.”

“Oh, I see. Thank you,” I mutter, feeling somewhat at ease for hearing she’s not a threat. I am still wary, though. It’s prudent to be on guard.

“Come, let’s go inside. I asked the maids to serve us lunch in the sunroom for a change of scenery.”

“Okay.”

We walk into the sunroom and take off our coats. Today’s spread has already been laid out on the table and looks delicious, as always.

Sophia sits first and motions for me to sit in the wicker chair opposite her.

I do, and she reaches for the cafetière filled with strong aromatic coffee to pour some into my cup first before filling hers.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a little sip. The jolt of caffeine and warmth gives me a boost. Just what I need right now to keep my head above water and my awareness.

“You’re welcome.” She focuses on me. “It’s good of you to play with Snow. I worried she’d be cooped up in this house while Mikhail was at work.”

“I like animals. I never had a dog.”

“Me too. My brother is allergic, so we never had one growing up. Of course, that meant Mikhail grew up without one, too. His sister, Talia, was in love with dogs. She adored huskies.” She smiles, but a touch of sadness pinches my heart.

“They’re beautiful dogs.”

“Absolutely. Mikhail got Snow for her when she joined the New York City Ballet.”

“Wow, she was a ballerina?” I’m impressed.

“The best. She was prima ballerina, and her love for music was something that touched everyone. She took after her mother. She was a dancer, too.”

“I see.”

“What do you like?”

It’s been so long since anyone asked me that, I don’t know how to answer the question. My heart remembers, though.

“Anything to do with medicine. I… wanted to be a doctor.”

She looks genuinely impressed. “That’s quite extraordinary, dear.”

“Thanks.” I almost give myself away and tell her my mother was a doctor, but I catch myself before I make that mistake and hang myself.

“What kind of doctor?”

“I wanted to go into diagnostics.”

“Very impressive, but…I suppose that’s changed now,” she states, looking around us, taking in my situation.

“Yes. It changed a long time ago.” I don’t have to try hard to play the part of the girl robbed of her dreams. I am that girl. “I knew after high school things were going to be different.”

I knew well before then, and the bastard Raul only allowed me to finish school because he’d get more money for me at the auction if I had some education.

“Well, we run a medical research charity and are based at the local hospital. After the wedding, when things settle down, I’ll see if I might be able to arrange for you to do something there. If it’s okay with Mikhail and you decide to go back to school, I’m sure that would be some experience you could gather toward your career.”

I simply stare at her. That sounds like a dream come true. Something I’d never imagine for myself. The closest I got to the medical world was helping my mother tend to the workers on the planation who’d been injured. That’s how Raul made use of her medical skills. She taught me everything she could during those times and helped me find a love for something I never knew I could find such difficult times.

I should be thrilled at the suggestion and possible offer. Instead, I find myself thrown off-kilter because such a thing doesn’t feel becoming of someone like Sophia, who should hate me.

As nice as she’s been, I feel awkward for the same reason, and I’m compelled to ask what her angle is, even if asking will get me in trouble.

“That would be great.” I prepare myself to ask the question. “I don’t mean to be rude, but why… why are you being so nice to me? Not that I’m ungrateful. I just want to know. I am Raul’s daughter, after all.”

I try to still my racing heart while she keeps her focus on me.

“A lot of terrible things have happened recently. Your father being the cause of great pain and suffering. He did unspeakable evil no one can forgive or turn a blind eye to, but I don’t believe it’s going to help anyone if I treat you badly. Not when you’re going to be a member of this family.”

I press my lips together briefly then take a measured breath. “So, you don’t think I’m to blame, too?”

A speck of hope flutters inside me at the possibility of this woman being my ally in some way. Or maybe it’s the fact that I have no one on my side. I don’t know how much power she might have over Mikhail. Nevertheless, the fact she’s here, says something. Even if it’s something small, it’s something, and something I might use. If only for some level of comfort.

“No. I don’t blame you. Unless my eyes deceive me, to me you’re just a young girl who got caught up in a war. Am I right?”

War. That’s a good word for it.

I stare at her for a moment, thinking how true that is of my entire life. War has always been on the horizon for me, and I’ve always had to suffer in some way for being caught between disagreements. My youth has made me helpless, and I’m still at the point where I have no power. Things have been like that for so long I can’t remember what it’s like to be normal.

“Yes… that’s what happened to me,” I answer.

She nods. “That’s what I thought.”

“I’m so sorry for what my father did.” I feel like a hypocrite saying that to her after she’s been so reasonable. At the same time, someone needs to say sorry for what Raul did, and I am sorry. On behalf of myself. I do wonder what exactly happened. I haven’t been given complete details and dare not ask.

It would be so inappropriate, although I am curious to find out.

“I accept that, and thanks. Eat before the food gets cold.” She offers me a kind smile I appreciate, and we both eat.

She talks about the hospital a little more, and I listen, finally getting absorbed in something that interests me. I even find myself wondering about the possibility of working there.

It feels outlandish because I know I can’t think of such things now or even plan to do anything that will place me in these people’s lives. Or my dreams.

Dreams for me are something which will have to either wait or stay in my head.

All I can focus on now is getting myself out of this situation.

Whenever that may be.

There’s nothing I can do right now or in the next week or the next month. But I can keep my eyes open.

Before I know it, the seamstress is here, and Sophia takes me into the hall to where a hundred beautiful dresses await me.

The designer’s name—Maria Artois—is someone I recognize from TV. I heard some celebrity wearing her dress for their wedding on one of those reality shows Adriana used to watch.

I can’t believe I have a hundred dresses to choose from, all made by her.

Her seamstress looks to be around the same age as Sophia, with a similar style, and is a nice, well-mannered lady. Not like the one in Mexico who loathed the sight of me because I was the help. She couldn’t stand the fact I was putting on such a fine dress and even told me nice things weren’t made for people like me.

This seamstress told me the dresses were made for me.

It’s nightfall by the time I get through the last batch of dresses, and I almost yield to the enticement of believing this is really my life and I’m the doting bride.

The temptation intensifies when I spot the perfect dress.

The dress I would choose if this were truly the wedding of my dreams.

It’s a timeless ballgown plucked from a fairytale with swirling beaded patterns on the sleeveless lace bodice that complements the plunging, scalloped neckline.

Cascading ruffles trimmed with sequins run down the endless length of the flowing skirt, which seems to float over the floor. Saying it’s beautiful doesn’t feel like it’s enough of a word to describe it.

“You need to try that on now,” the seamstress says with a firm nod.

When I try it on, I hate that I love it. I shouldn’t love anything about this day, this moment, this feeling.

It’s the first time I don’t feel like I’m wearing someone else’s skin or am in another person’s mind. I feel like me, like this is me, and I realize it is me.

I might be pretending to be someone I’m not, but that doesn’t mean this isn’t me.

Sophia walks up to me, lifts my hair away from my face, and nods.

“This is the dress, my dear. I think you look truly amazing,” she says with a smile.

“Thank you.”

“I think she looks truly amazing, too,” comes a prevailing male voice from the door. A voice I would recognize anywhere, asleep or awake.

We all look toward the door as Mikhail walks in, moving with an air of authority.

Out the corner of my eye I note how Sophia straightens and no longer seems to take charge.

She’s not afraid of him the way I am. Her reaction seems more respectful than anything else. The seamstress, too, takes notice and looks cautious.

Mikhail comes closer and walks right up to me. It only takes a second before my mind summons the intimate kiss we shared this morning. A kiss too intimate for us, for him, for me.

My first kiss was from one of Raul’s drunken soldiers trying to force himself on me. I was barely fourteen and he was nearly fifty. My father luckily got me away from him. If he hadn’t, God knows what would have happened to me. There were many under aged girls on the plantation with children. Girls as young as twelve. All impregnated by Raul’s guards.

The myriad of kisses that followed after the first were from men who’d forced their lips on me and would have forced me to do more if not for the forbidden mark Raul placed on me. Touching me meant death. Felipe barely got away with what he could, but he knew Raul would have killed him, too, if he lost him the business opportunity I was.

Mikhail is the first man I gave my kiss away to willingly.

“I think we can agree this is the dress,” he states, glancing at Sophia, who nods and smiles.

“Apart from your mother, I don’t think I’ve seen a more beautiful bride,” she states, and then she says something more to him in Russian.

He returns his attention to me and looks me up and down before talking again.

“Spasibo, to by li zdes'. YA by hotel pobyt' sey chas so voyez krasivoy zhenoy.”

He’s speaking to her but looking right at me, and, of course, I have no idea what he’s saying. Unlike when he’s talking to the maid and I’m not sure what they’re talking about, I know he’s talking about me from the way he looks at me.

“Of course, that’s no problem. We’ll be done in about fifteen minutes,” Sophia replies.

“Great.” He glances back at her then leans close to my ear in an openly seductive manner, uncaring of who is watching us. “Come upstairs when you’re finished.” His voice is low enough for my ears only, but I’m aware of the two women watching us. “Don’t wear any panties.”

Our eyes lock, and my breath hitches. I swear I turn every shade of red. My skin is hot with the seductive rush that heats my body up from the inside out. I remember the panties he pocketed yesterday morning and the way he sniffed them before tucking them away.

“Or a bra,” he adds, deepening his stare.

I know what he wants.

I know what going upstairs with no panties or a bra will mean and what’s coming next.

He wants me, and he wants me to give myself to him now.

He doesn’t wait for an answer, doesn’t need to.

Mikhail knows as much as I do that the word no will never be an option for me.