Page 8 of Tainted Empire

I nod, managing a small smile in return. “I’m looking forward to it,” I say, and I mean it. The normalcy of this moment, the simple act of spending time with a friend, is something I hadn’t realized I missed so much.

As Natalya and I settle into the plush chairs nestled in a secluded corner of the spa. I half-expect her to probe into the chaos that has upended my life, but instead, she steers the conversation toward her own life. Specifically her forthcoming, but clearly unwanted, marriage.

“You know, I always knew Mischa would barter me in an arranged marriage,” Natalya begins, a troubled frown creasing her forehead. “I mean, isn’t that what we’re born for when our fathers are powerful men?”

Her words resonate with me, echoing my own disillusioned thoughts about love and marriage before I was given to Mikhail. There’s a bitterness in her tone, a stark contrast to the carefree Natalya I’ve always known.

“Are you... are you not happy with it?” I ask tentatively, careful not to overstep but genuinely concerned.

She sighs, her gaze drifting off to a distant point as if visualizing her future. “He’s quite the catch, on paper,” she manages a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“A Greek magnate, practically a billionaire,” her voice laced with a mix of respect and resignation. “He’s incredibly powerful, influential, and, honestly, not unkind to me. And he’s always been courteous, considerate even, and not hard on the eyes either. I know he’s trying to make this easy for both of us.”

Hearing her words, I feel a pang of empathy. My own marriage to Mikhail started off this way, making her situation feel even closer to home. I listen, sensing the ‘but’ lingering in her tone. It’s clear that despite the apparent advantages, Natalya feels trapped.

“But?” I prompt gently, offering her an encouraging nod.

“But, it feels like I’m being traded in a business deal,” she confesses, her voice laced with a quiet frustration. “I know this is for my family, for the Bratva... it’s about alliances, power plays... But deep down, I hate it. I hate that I don’t get to choose who I give my heart to.”

Her vulnerability is raw and striking. I reach out, covering her hand with mine, offering silent solidarity. It’s a situation I understand all too well—the sacrifices we make for family, for duty.

“He sounds like a good man, Natalya,” I offer, trying to find some comfort to give her.

“He is,” she agrees, nodding slowly. “And I’m grateful it’s not worse. But sometimes, Gabi, I dream about what it would be like to fall in love on my own terms, to marry someone my heart chooses, not my family. But enough about me! You didn’t come here to hear my sob stories.”

I feel the whiplash of her change in direction and as we talk more, Natalya doesn’t dwell on her upcoming wedding anymore. Instead, she steers the conversation towards lighter subjects, perhaps as a way to escape, even momentarily, the reality of her situation.

We talk about everything from fashion to music, allowing ourselves to indulge in the kind of carefree banter we used to before life became so complicated.

When it’s time to leave, she pulls me into a tight embrace, her warmth momentarily dispelling the coldness that has settled inside me. “Gabi, if you ever need to talk, or scream, or just sit in silence, I’m here. Always.”

I nod, grateful for her presence, her strength. “Thank you, Natalya. Today meant more than you know.”

She gives me a brave smile, a warrior’s smile, and in that moment, I see not just the pampered sister of a Bratva leader, but a woman of resilience and depth. As I walk away, a part of me feels fortified by our shared bond, a silent vow that whatever lies ahead, we won’t face it alone.

The calmness of the spa and the strength I found in Natalya’s company have given me a glimpse of a path forward, one where I can start to reclaim pieces of myself.

As I enter the living room of the safe house, I find Lee seated on the couch, flipping through some papers. She looks up as I enter, her gaze assessing.

“How was the spa?” she asks, a slight smile on her lips.

“It was good,” I replied, managing a small smile. “Having Natalya there helped; she didn’t probe or pry.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Lee says, her eyes softening. “You needed that break.”

I nod, feeling the truth of her words. The brief escape had offered me a much-needed respite, a reminder that life still holds moments of peace and beauty.

After a pause, I gather my thoughts, the seeds of an idea taking root in my mind. “Lee, do you know Mr. Orlov from the philharmonic?”

“Yes, I know him,” she replies, her brows knitting slightly, curious about where I’m heading with this.

I take a deep breath, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness at the thought. “Could you call him for me? Ask if his open invitation still stands? I’d like to take him up on that offer, maybe see if I can get involved with the philharmonic in some way.”

Lee’s smile is genuine and wide as she takes my hand in hers and gives it a squeeze.

“Of course, I’ll call him first thing tomorrow and Gabriette,” she adds, her tone softening, “I’m proud of you. It takes courage to step forward, especially after everything that’s happened.”

Her words are like a warm blanket around my shoulders, comforting and encouraging. For the first time in what feels like forever, I feel a flicker of excitement, a stirring of the old passion for my art. It’s a small step, but it’s a step forward, a movement towards healing and rediscovering the parts of myself that I thought were lost.

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