Alexei's Passionate Revenge. Helen Bianchin
‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’ he warned heavily.
Her eyes didn’t waver from his own for several seconds, then she discarded her dessert fork and pushed the plate aside. The thought of taking another bite of food made her feel slightly ill.
For as long as she could remember, she’d prided herself on being part of a close loving family worthy of her implicit trust.
Now she was forced to recognise the father she had adored was not the man she’d believed him to be, and the pain of betrayal was almost a physical ache.
The desire to leave was uppermost...now, before she uttered words that, once said, couldn’t be retracted.
Another hour, that was all, then she could escape.
Consequently Natalya accepted coffee, lingered over it, and accepted Ivana’s invitation to admire her treasured garden.
Together they moved outdoors, leaving Roman to add a generous snifter of brandy to his coffee, and smoke a cigar, presumably in the hope the alcohol and nicotine hit would soothe his temper.
Scrupulously tended and picture perfect no matter the season, the beautifully sculptured shrubbery and numerous borders were Ivana’s pride and joy. While a part-time gardener took care of the heavy work, Ivana was very hands-on with the choice of plants and succulents designed to provide a glorious balance of symmetry and colour.
‘Darling, I’m very concerned for you,’ Ivana said quietly as they wandered through the grounds. ‘Having to sell Montgomery Electronics was a blow to your father’s pride and self-esteem,’ Ivana added. ‘It doesn’t sit easily on his conscience he needs to rely on the money and investments I inherited from my late mother’s estate.’
Natalya’s grandmother had expressed a dislike of Roman Montgomery from the onset, and had been fiercely against the marriage, ensuring each and every one of her assets on Ivana’s demise would pass directly to Natalya.
Natalya had adored her babushka, the regular visits with her mother, the joy and the laughter, tales relayed of an early childhood in another land, the treasures representative of a different country and culture...the division between wealth and poverty.
Ivana caught Natalya’s hand and brought it to her lips. ‘Will you find it difficult working with Alexei?’
The answer could only be an unspoken yes. ‘I’m no longer the lovesick young girl of five years ago, Mama,’ Natalya reminded her.
‘Perhaps not. But...’
‘I’ve moved on.’
You have? Like the initial encounter with Alexei Delandros was totally impartial and devoid of any emotion?
‘I hope so,’ Ivana opined evenly. ‘For your sake.’
It was easy to offer a smile and brush lips to her mother’s cheek. ‘I’m fine.’
Little white lies and pretence. Not something she favoured, but forgivable in the circumstances...surely?
She lingered a while as they leisurely wandered through the structured pebbled paths, pausing to admire numerous plants, commenting on the subtle scent of roses, while listening to gardening tips Ivana chose to share.
There was a sense of relief when they reached the silver BMW parked in the pebbled forecourt.
‘Come inside, darling, and have a refreshing drink.’
‘Another time, Mama, if you don’t mind.’
‘You’re leaving so soon?’
‘New job,’ she managed lightly. ‘I need to check my wardrobe, laptop, and grab an early night.’ She leant forward and hugged her mother close. ‘Love you. Thanks for lunch.’ A quick movement released the BMW’s locking mechanism. ‘I’ll phone during the week.’ She slid behind the wheel, fired the ignition, and blew a customary kiss as she eased the car forward.
Not the most convivial lunch, Natalya perceived wryly as she traversed the main road en route to her own home.
Tomorrow was likely to be a whole lot worse.
Working in close proximity to Alexei Delandros featured way down at the end of her choose-to-do list. So how did she prepare to meet her nemesis?
Perfectly groomed, elegantly attired, immaculate make-up, heels to die for...and presenting solicitous professionalism together with a degree of unruffled cool.
Something she achieved following two attempts to acquire the desired effect with her make-up.
Laptop, iPad, leather satchel, smartphone, car fob...check.
Minutes later Natalya joined early Monday morning traffic into the city, fought the long delays at numerous controlled intersections before entering the underground parking area assigned to the building housing ADE Conglomerate.
Easier said than done to tamp down the onset of nerves as she rode the lift to a high floor.
She’d been her father’s PA for several years, she knew what the position entailed. There might be a few adjustments, but how difficult could it be?
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