Chapter 31 31

Chapter 31 31

GEORGIA

I had every reason to believe Dimitri was responsible for Vanya's death. He was the one who suddenly showed up and started making friends with the capo of the small syndicates. He hated Rhys equally and had a bone to pick with him since he had his family massacred.

Contemplating this possibility had its own downsides. Rhys never wanted me to associate with Dimitri, and now that we were caught up, I doubted a change in his resolution.

I was still on the quest for justice and truth. The prime minister's daughter and the other ladies might have been returned to their various homes but the black market was still operating and planning a major comeback.

Dimitri was the key to my answers. Even if he wasn't the culprit, he would lead me to whoever committed the crime and framed my husband for it.

So, I smiled at him.

"Tomorrow will be just fine Mr Volkovich. But I would rather we meet here at this time tomorrow. My husband would not allow me to leave the house without his monitored vehicle and his guardmen."

"Still overprotective of you is he?"

"Yes, he is." I flashed a sweet smile. "Rhys is a very vigilant man, nothing ever passes him."

"Indeed." Dimitri nodded, a sly look etched across his face. "In that case, I would delay my travel back to Russia. I am quite committed to helping your cause as you can see. This is the rule of the Brotherhood."

I nodded, watching him raise the glass of vodka to his lips, drowning the contents in a slow gulp.

"But Mr Volkovich, is there any way you would want to return to Russia this soon? I mean, you just got here. America is a beautiful place. There are lots of interesting sights for you to see, places to visit, even young and beautiful women."

"You mean like your sister?"

"What!" Achill round on my spine, my heart exploding into fragments, but Dimitri only burst into laughter.

"Oh, Mrs Mikhailov." He shook his head and laughed again. "You amuse me. Your sister is quite popular in this District. She is an up-and-coming musician. I have had the privilege of meeting with her at concerts and high-profile events. I was nearly going to request her hand in marriage. If it wouldn't seem appropriate, but I mean that sarcastically."

I managed a smile and watched as he refilled my glass of wine. Dimitri was scary, everything about him alluded to mysteriousness and even death. Rhys would not be happy with this meeting, and I even had myself to be afraid for. Not to mention my sister.

"We should see you tomorrow, Mr Volkovich. I have to return home."

"To your husband, huh?"

"Yes," I answered. "Rhys has set a designated time for my return, I do not want to exceed it."

"Isn't that the same as a curfew? I thought women like you preferred independence and control."

"Rhys is only concerned for me. I'm still very much in charge of my movement and my decisions. He's very good, man, you see."

He went quiet for some seconds, then he rose to his feet and stretched his hand.

"The elections will begin soon. My family members in Russia and my supporters anticipate my return. My campaign team also cannot do anything without me. Hence, my seemingly sudden return to my homeland. "

He smiled again, and then I nodded.

"I'll be expecting you tomorrow sir. Thank you for agreeing to help with our investigation."

"I have never laid claims to altruism, but I would do anything for a prima donna like yourself, Georgia."

"Really, but what do you mean?"

He shrugged, then adjusted the tip of his hat.

"Rhys already found your first. I can do nothing but watch."

Questions of all sorts swan in my head, but I could only watch Dimitri get into his car and leave.

Rhys was not in the living room when I arrived. In fact, I didn't find him in the house. He was outside in the yard, lounging on a plastic sofa under the oak tree. This property was simpler than the mansion. There was a lake, apple orchards, butterfly gardens and waterfalls. Not to mention the drawing room and the old-fashioned musical instruments. In fact, the command of this house reminded me of Bridgerton and Pride and Prejudice.

"Hello, Rhys." I reached out and tapped his shoulder. "Have you had a great day today?"

"Of course I have, answered "my biggest competitor is dead, 200 clients have returned to my company and the market sales have increased. Seems like I really killed Vanya."

I chuckled and sat at my bedside with him. He was wearing a black tank top with matching shorts: his hair was gelled but uncombed. The golden rays of the sunset were dancing on his face, his skin smooth and rocky. The tingling sensations returned, my heart palpitating with arousal. Rhys hadn't stopped appealing to me, and there's no doubt he would.

Without saying a word, he leaned over and kissed me. This act froze me, my lungs emptying of breath, goosebumps breaking out on my skin. With nothing in my defence, I fell into his touch and soon, his hands began to travel all over my thighs, lifting my skirt.

I gasped, my heart tightening.

"Rhys," I muttered.

As if he'd heard, my thoughts, he placed his hand behind my head and deepened the kiss. I could feel fire crawling under my skin. I could feel his body tensing up.

"We're all alone here." He whispered. "The grass is soft."

"But I'm not sure," I whispered back.

"We're married."

"We're not in love."

He paused for a second, his breath uneven, his eyes searching mine as though asking for permission neither of us could give.

Just then, his phone rang. As he reached for it, I rolled up the seat and redid my dress.

"You found some things? What?"

I was not able to make out the conversation, but I knew he was talking to one of his guards.

"You mean my wife?" Rhys asked incredulously.

The hair on my back stood still as cold descended on me.

The phone hit the ground and broke the small quiet that had been building between us. The image on the screen kept swimming behind my eyes even though it was gone. Dimitri and I are at the cafe. Smiling. Close.

"What are you doing with him?" he said. It was not a question. It was an accusation made of stone.

"I ran into him," I heard myself say. "We bumped into each other while I was getting coffee. We spoke. He offered to help. I told him to come tomorrow."

He did not believe me. He stared at the empty screen and then at me.

"You are with the man who killed my family," he hissed. "You are sitting with the man who gathered heads and put them in boxes. "

"I was not sitting with him," I said. "I was getting coffee. We spoke. I did not ask him to come over. He said he would send an assistant."

"It is a lie," he said. He threw the phone. It hit the tree and burst further. He did not try to pick up the pieces. He looked like someone who had broken something that could not be repaired.

"He came to speak with me. He offered help. I do not trust him, Rhys. I was careful."

"Do not lie to me," he said. "He massacred my family. He wanted to take my life. You speak with him like he is a neighbour. You smile with him. How could you?"

My hands were going cold.

"I am only trying to clear your name."

"Clear my name?" He said. "You do not understand how this world works. You are a journalist. You are a woman with a pen. You think words can move men who have teeth. You sit and write and expect them to believe you."

"I am trying to do my job," I said.

"You are my wife," he said. "You are family. You are not supposed to sit with the enemy. If you want to help then be quiet. If you want to be brave then be brave where I can see you. Do not go behind my back."

My hands balled into fists at my sides. I felt something in me snap like a cord. I had been walking on a wire for months and the strain had worn thin.

"If you want someone who will be quiet," I said, my voice higher than I wanted, "then you should have married someone else."

"You will not speak like that to me," he said. His voice broke and then steadied. "You will not say you would have done something different. You are my wife."

"I am a journalist," I said. The truth rolled out now and I no longer tried to smooth it. "I am an activist. I chase stories. People are kidnapped and sold and no one does anything. I do not care that I am married to a man in your position. I will not stop because you say so. If you want a woman who stays at home and opens her mouth only for your name, then marry one. I am not that woman."

He moved like a man losing air. "You cross lines," he said. "You do not understand that sometimes lines keep men alive. You do not understand that if they think I took Vanya, then even if I am innocent, they will not stop until I am dead."