I spend practically the whole day awaiting Igor’s return. The longer I wait, the more nervous I become. My hands are sweating and I catch myself hyperventilating almost all of the time. I’m eager to find out if something between us has changed because the truth is this:I don’t know. Last night, we said and did things that I never in a million years would have guessed would happen between us. It was abrupt and unexpected, but I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it even now when it’s behind us. It’s pure insanity, but it’s how I feel. I’m aware that he has feelings for me—he’s told me before and last night was merely a confirmation—but u don’t know where I stand, and that’s what’s concerning me. When he walks through those doors, I’ll have to figure something out. I’m hoping he’ll come soon so I’ll know what to do on the spot. That isn’t practical, though. It would be more beneficial if I knew where I wanted to take this because I have a good indication of what he wants. Although I e
“Clara,” he says. “Go away,” I say dryly, though my heart is hammering against my chest now, threatening to burst. “I don’t want things to be unclear between us.”“On the contrary. You’ve left things very clear.”“Will you let me come in?”“No,” I say, injecting all my hatred and bitterness into the word. “Not a chance.”Igor opens the door nonetheless and my jaw hits the floor. I’ll never understand where he gets so much audacity from. I ask him, “Didn’t you hear what I said?”“I heard you,” he reveals, closing the door. “But what I have to say to you is important. I don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me.”“Don’t bother about that!” I hiss. “I have the right impression and that’s what matters.”“Clara,” he says patiently. “I know I was an asshole down there. Trust me, I do. I intended to be one.”“How lovely,” I say sarcastically, stepping away from him. At this point, my soreness is a source of shame. I hate that I’ve put myself in this position. I can’t begin to imagin
I put in extra effort in my appearance for tonight. I'm anxious about what he has to say to me but I'll find out soon because he called Hubert to ask him to remind me about it. He said he would be back by seven, so I have fifteen minutes left. I stare at my reflection in the mirror. There is a massive change in my appearance and I don't look sad and rundown anymore. Things have been crazy but I think it's safe for me to say that it's starting to get better and I feel better. If someone asks me when exactly I got into this mindset, I won't have an answer for them. Just the other day I was angry at him not to touch me and now I was here.I try not to dwell on it too much as I apply the finishing touches. I opt for a soft pink gloss instead of lipstick, simply because I don't want to overdo it. My hair is already in a messy-but-chic updo and I'm wearing the best dress I currently own, a sequined champagne-colored dress. It might be a little too much just for dinner downstairs but I'm
Igor runs a hand through his hair in frustration for the fifth time. I’m siting on the edge of his bed, unsure of what to say to him. It’s been this way for about five minutes now. It’s just silence since we came up here.Honestly, I don’t quite know where to look. His family’s reaction was not what he was expecting, clearly, and perhaps I’ll say that I didn’t expect it either. I knew they’d be perplexed because of how abrupt this has all been, but some of the things done and said tonight were not at all appropriate or respectful. I can’t say I don’t understand his reaction. Finally, he looks at me and says, “I can’t apologize enough.”“It’s not your fault,” I assure him. “It is,” he insists. “I shouldn’t have let it go so far. I should have put a stop to it a long time ago.”I stand up and close the short distance between us. “It’s going to take some getting used to for all of us. I mean, it isn’t all that surprising to me. You seem like the kind of family who likes to piss each
The panic coursing through me is ruthless and cruel. I stare at Igor for the longest time while I try to internalize what I’ve heard. It’s simply not possible. My family can’t be here. “Hurry,” Ivan says from the other side of the door. “Before all hell breaks loose.”We sit up hurriedly. A cold feeling seeps into my bones. I ask him, “How?”“I don’t know,” he answers as he buttons himself up. “We’ll have to find out.”I lower my dress so it covers my legs and look around for my panties. I can’t find them. I’m not even thinking straight at this point. Igor is put together in no time but I feel like I’m still unkempt. I touch my hair. It’s all over the place. I don’t even know when this happened. “Clara,” he says to me tenderly. “It’s going to be alright. You have nothing to be scared of. I’m not going to let them hurt you.”I nod and follow him out the door. My heart is beating in my throat and I can barely breathe from the nervousness I feel. How am I going to face them after so
“What do you think my father wanted to say to me?” I ask this while Igor and I are in bed. I’m nestled against him and he has an arm around my waist and is caressing my side. I haven’t stopped thinking about the encounter with my father and how bizarre and out-of-character it was. Why would he come all the way here to see me to say…nothing?“I have a feeling he wanted to say something but decided against it,” I add, shifting into a more comfortable position on the bed. “I have no idea what it could be, though.”Igor doesn’t comment, not for a long time. Then, he says, “Maybe he wanted to keep convincing you that he’d come for you when the time was right.”“He said something along those lines,” I agree, tracing the smooth lines of his abdomen with my fingertips. “I don’t know.”“Don’t think about it anymore,” he suggests. “That would be better,” I say, looking up and kissing his jawline. “It haunts me. I don’t want to keep obsessing about this anymore.”“You shouldn’t,” he agrees be
A whole week has passed since Igor and I got together, which means that we have about two and a half weeks to go before the wedding. I’m starting to feel anxious about it because things between us are starting to feel real, and I’m getting to know him more. But marriage is a huge step and before, we would get married because of a contract. Now, we’re in a relationship, so it won’t necessarily be strictly because of a contract. But would I marry him if we didn’t have a contract binding us together? No, I wouldn’t. Not right now, at least. There’s still a lot we have to go through in order to truly get to know each other. I feel like we’ve just scratched the surface even though we’ve already been intimate. There’s a lot about him that I’m not familiar with yet, and to be honest, I wish we had more time before the wedding. That way, I might feel like we’re marrying out of love and not a contract. I pick up my cup of coffee and take a careful sip before putting it down on the saucer
I’m informed only later on that we’ll be hosting a dinner of some kind. There’ll be around eight guests; the heads of the Russian families. They had that meeting today and tonight is supposed to be a celebration of some kind. I’m glad that there won’t be a lot of people because I feel incredibly anxious when there are too many people, and this has mostly to do with the numerous bad experiences I had in the beginning of my stay with the Makárovs. Hubert is taking care of everything with the housekeeper and as usual, I’m not expected to lift a finger to help. He even mentions that I’ll do more damage than good and that’s enough to keep me away from the kitchen indefinitely. I don’t want to disturb him in any way. I know how hard he works. Leo left after lunch, but for some reason, it feels like he’s around. That’s how much his behavior today got to me. I don’t believe that he has good intentions and in that case, it makes me wonder what on earth he wants from me. Is this some elabora
I watch the waves crash into the shore while the ocean breeze rustles my hair. I take a deep breath, drawing the salty air into my lungs and holding it in hopes that it’ll become a part of me. There’s nothing as therapeutic as this. The sun is deliciously warm today. Most days, it’s burning hot, but today, it’s just perfect. I’m lounging in the hammock in the porch of our beach house. I do this every morning as soon as I wake up because it helps me dispel my troubled thoughts. Whenever I think about all those traumatic events of the last couple of months, I feel like I’ll never truly move on from them, but when I come out here, my hope is renewed. Things will get better at some point. As long as I’m seeking help and am surrounded by my loved ones, I’ll be perfectly fine. I close my eyes, take another deep breath, and then reopen them when I hear someone approaching. I turn my head to look at the door and see Igor leaning against the door with a cup of tea in his hand. It’s for me
IgorGetting home is my only priority at the moment, and as soon as I step through the elevator, I feel relieved. The first person I see is Anastasia. She rushes toward me with tear stained cheeks. “Igor. For the love of God. Don’t do anything stupid.”“Where is she?” I demand. “Where’s Clara?”“You can’t kill Leo,” she says, following me all the way up the stairs. “Remember the promise your father made you make. You’re supposed to stick together no matter what. You’re supposed to forgive each other.”I ignore her and start opening doors while calling her name desperately. I have to see her. Fuck, I have to hold her. I have to make sure she’s okay before I go looking for that traitorous fucker. “Igor!” Anastasia exclaims, trying to get my attention. A door on the other end of the corridor opens, and she peers out. I race toward her, and when she sees me, she rushes toward me. I drop my bag and gather her in my arms. “Clara,” I say her name. Like a prayer. “My love.”She’s sobbing.
There were more endless hours of waiting. At this point, I've started losing hope. I've already cried and screamed, and now there's nothing left of me to pour out into the world.I’m missing Alex and Dimitri like crazy. I fear I’ll never see them again. I’m starting to actually acknowledge the fact that I’ve been beyond stupid for not having told anyone in the family about my suspicions. Yes, Boris knows, but has news of my disappearance gotten out yet?What’s even going on out there? What’s being said?It’s impossible to know what Leo made up. He could’ve said that he never saw me, and then I’d be screwed. I didn’t encounter anyone when I reached the penthouse; it was just him. I’m hungry and thirsty. My back is killing me, and the pain behind my eyes hasn’t subsided yet. I close my eyes for a few minutes each time, but I open them when I feel myself falling asleep. I don’t want to be caught off guard. I want to see whatever it is that he’ll do to me. The door opens, and I sit upr
IgorI grip my phone tightly in my fist. “What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?”“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Ivan replies, flustered. “Ivan,” I say through my teeth. “You’re not making any sense here. You’re telling me that the driver dropped her off in the garage, and she went up. But nobody saw her in the apartment. And it’s like she’s vanished into thin air?”“Yes, that’s about it.”I sag against the couch, then decide that there’s no way I can sit when this is happening. I run my fingers through my hair, feeling more frustrated than ever. “Is it possible that she stepped out for a bit without telling anyone?”This is reminding me of when she first went missing all those years ago. I was so lost, and hopeful, too. I kept imagining her walking through the door, saying that she just went shopping or something. I had no idea that she’d already found out about everything and left me, feeling betrayed. This is reminding me of that day, that’s for sure, but this time,
To my immense surprise, a smile curves Leo’s lips instead of the opposite. He’s supposed to be terrified that I know his secret, but instead, he’s smiling at me. “Have you lost your mind?” he asks in the most unconvincing voice that I’ve ever heard in all my life. “Is that it?”“You won’t fool me,” I announce. “I know it’s you. You’re behind every single bad thing that’s happened to this family for some time now. You’re not a friend, Leo. You’re a foe. You’re an enemy. You’re the one who ordered someone to hit Igor’s car, and then, you shot Luke in hopes to clean your tracks. And then, when Igor survived the crash, you paid that shooter. And just when we were going to look into, he shows up dead in his apartment. How’s all of this supposed to be a coincidence?”There’s that smile again. Honestly, it scares me. I know what he’s capable of. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be afraid. “Those are some really filthy accusations, Clara. I’ve sacrificed a lot for this family. I’ve risked
I exit Boris’ building with my heart in my throat. The situation is getting out of control. If Leo truly is behind all of this, then I have my work cut out for me. I’m supposed to be working with him (and Ivan, of course) to find out who is behind all of this. Now, I’ll have to work against him. The five security guards are all around me, forming a half-moon shape. Technically, I’m protected from anyone who might want to attack me, but I don’t feel safe. How can I, when I’m living in the same house as the person who wants to destroy Igor? It’s him who’s behind all of this, and the faster I come to terms with this, the more sense everything makes. We’re just stepping outside when a car screeches to a halt in front of the building. Before I can even register what’s happening, they’re pushing me back, trying to shield me from what’s happening. They draw their weapons, and I realize that my head is spinning, and things are happening in slow motion right before my eyes. “Take her bac
“I wouldn’t recommend seeing him,” Ivan tells me. “He’s bad news, and we all know what his intentions with you are. He’ll probably ask you to marry him.”“He’d receive no for an answer,” I state firmly. “He says he might have some information for us. Wouldn’t it be wise to hear him out?”“‘Might’ isn’t a good enough word. He ‘might’ve have nothing valuable to tell us.”“But what if he does?” I ask. “I know he would never hurt me.”“You’re the Head now,” he says with a sigh. “You’re free to make whatever decision you please. For us, that’s sacred, and we don’t take it for granted. Not going is only my advice, but if you wish to go, you’re free to do so.”I sit back, and put my fork down. I think deeply of what he’s saying. Should I go? Would Boris be helpful? I think he will, so I say, “I think I’ll go.”“I’ll arrange a car and a group of security to accompany you, then,” he concedes. “In the meantime, I’m going to start looking into—”We hear the elevator, and soon enough, Leo joins u
I wake up in the middle of the night, sweating, and with Luke’s voice echoing in my ears. This is the first time I’ve dreamt of him since that thing happened. I keep hearing the gunshot, too, and it echoes in my mind. I wipe my eyes, and then sit up. My mouth is parched, so I have to get some water. I don’t have any in the room. I should probably bring a bottle with me from the kitchen so that I don’t have to go downstairs again. I open the door as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake anyone up. Before I head downstairs, I check on the boys first. They’re just next door, so it’s easier for me to keep an eye on them. They’re both sleeping peacefully, so I close the door carefully and then creep downstairs. I step into the kitchen and open the fridge. After finding a glass, I pour water in it, and tip my head back as I down all of it. I immediately feel better; more refreshed and awake. The noise in my head is a lot less, and I feel I can sleep again if I tried. It’s only two in
The boys love Hubert. Then again, if I have to be completely honest, I don’t know who wouldn’t. He’s the most caring person in the world. I’ve told him that I don’t want the boys to know about Igor’s ‘death’ just yet. He isn’t dead, so to tell them something and then have to admit to them that it had all been a lie would be too much. They’re only five years old. This is a matter that would have even adults spiraling. Hubert doesn’t know the truth yet, though. I really feel bad. I can tell that he’s having a hard time coping, but he’s too much of a professional to ever let it show. After dinner, the boys were filled with restless energy, and they were curious about this new place that we would call home. Hubert showed them around, and told them everything he felt they needed to know about the place. It was just the four of us, along with the cook and the maid, both whom I hadn’t seen yet. That was last night. This morning, it’s honestly pretty much the same; the only difference is