Anatoli
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I gaze down at the naked blonde beauty on my bed, lying exactly the way she would in any man's fantasy.
Her soft milky skin is flushed with the sheen of desire, her rose-blushed nipples diamond hard, her legs are spread wide and her pussy glistening, begging to be fucked.
It's like I'm looking at an angel. An eroticized version of the angel I stole and brought to my unhallowed hell.
Hades-God of the Underworld-would have been proud, but dare I say that not even Persephone-the Goddess of Spring-was as enchanting as this being in my bed.
I got a mere taste of what it would feel like to be inside her and I pulled out.
I actually pulled out.
Now I'm torn between slamming back inside her tight wet cunt, or going to see what my father's wife wants.
Why the hell is Mira Scarfoni here?
Okay I know why. That's a very stupid question.
It's more like it would be weird if she didn't come and seek me out to talk in private.
She could have spoken to Leif. I don't know anything he doesn't. But maybe I care less than he does about compassion, so I won't spare her feelings with the truth.
I maintain eye contact with Avrora, feeling as aroused as I am pissed at the intrusion, along with the reminder of Mikhail.
I noted the moment she thought about him and I didn't like it.
She looked embarrassed.
"Anatoli, what should I tell her?" Ehlga calls out again in a tentative voice, cutting into my thoughts.
Fuck it. I'm going to have to go down there.
I grit my teeth and straighten, hating all of this. "I'll be out in a minute."
When I slide off the bed, Avrora covers herself as if just realizing she's naked.
Something must be wrong with my head to make me choose this over sex.
The Anatoli I know would have chosen fucking and made Mira wait.
But perhaps this is more about my respect for Ehlga. She endured the worst of me during my teenage years. This is one area of my life I don't think she should have to deal with any more than she is. It's too sordid.
I grab some clothes I'd thrown to the side and put them on. Then I cast one last glance at Avrora and walk to the door.
When I step out of the room, Ehlga catches a glimpse of Avrora on the bed with the sheet covering her and her cheeks flush.
"I'm so sorry to disturb you two. I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't want to be rude. She seems quite fragile."
"That's okay. Did she say what she wants?"
"No, not so much. Just that she wanted to speak to you. I've just left her in the living room with a cup of tea."
By Odin. What the hell am I going to do with this woman I never really wanted to speak to? Ever.
Not only that. It's barely eight-thirty. I got home after two in the morning because I was busy as fuck at the office. With my takeover, I've had meeting after meeting after meeting with all sorts of people. I didn't realize I was going to be so busy, but it is what it is.
"Alright, I'll go see her."
Ehlga nods and I head to the living room.
I find Mira standing by the large Van Gogh painting hanging over the fireplace. Vittoria Butyrskaya used to fuss over that one a lot. It was one of her favorites. I left all her paintings up on the walls the same way I left the classic books in Pavel's office.
Mira was admiring the painting, but turned to face me when I came in.
She looks terrible and just as fragile as Ehlga described. And thinner than when I saw her at the wedding. As if she hasn't eaten since. Someone could easily snap her in half.
Despite that, the black fur coat she's wearing and her hair in that tight bun maintain her elegance.
"Good morning." Her accented voice has a slight quiver to it.
"Good morning."
When I first learned about my father and his other family, I always imagined what I'd do if I met them. I always knew I'd find it hard to talk to Mikhail and his mother. Zakh or Malik didn't feel like my competition but Mikhail and Mira did.
Now Mira is standing before me.
In my eyes, she's the woman who had the life my mother should have had. All her diamonds and pearls should have been Mom's. All the times Mira went to fancy restaurants, or dressed up for a party or some high end prissy function, it should have been my mother in her place.
"I apologize for coming here so early, or at all. I don't expect you to welcome me into your home." She pauses for a beat and takes a quick breath as if to calm herself. "I hope I didn't disturb you.
"It's fine, I was just in the shower."If only it was just that.
"I promise I won't take up too much of your time. Leif told me how busy you are. I wanted to talk to you before I fly out to Russia."
"What about, Mrs. Scarfoni?"
"Don't worry, I'm not here to ask you to reconsider anything. I'm so ashamed of how my husband treated you and your mother. Whatever you do is understandable." Her frail hands shake, so I decide to tone down my fury.
"Then why are you here?"
"Is it okay if we sit?"
"Of course." It's probably for the best because she looks like she might fall over and shatter if we stand any longer.
I motion to the leather sofas and we sit opposite each other. Me in the armchair and her in the double seater.
"I wanted to ask you to confirm something Leif won't. His silence speaks louder than anything but I just want to hear the words."
With that said, I know exactly what she's going to ask me. There's only one thing that no one has talked about.
It wasn't relevant at the time, but it is now. For her. If I'm right and I think I am,
it's to do with my father's fidelity.
A topic I'd rather not talk about.
"What is it?" I ask the question, but I can see she knows I've guessed.
Her throat works and she swallows hard, then her trembling hands come together. "I know I have no right to ask you this but I just wanted to know a few things. I um... I assume you know why your mother waited twelve years to tell your father about you."
"Yes, I do know."
"Will you tell me?" Her voice shakes and I actually feel sorry for her. She's clearly another woman who made the mistake of loving my father.
"Maybe you really should speak to Leif about this."
"Leif is a decent man who's known me for years. He knows I'm hurting and he won't hurt me anymore. But you don't know me and I don't expect you to feel anything for me. Sometimes it's better to hear the truth from someone like that. So please, tell me."
I guess I'm going to have to do it then. "They were having an affair."
The moment I say the words, her pale eyes cloud like the sky on a stormy day, then tears stream down her cheeks faster than an untamed river.