Page 50 of Poisoned Roses

“But she may be–”

She can’t finish the sentence and I stroke her lovely face and whisper, “I will discover who did this and they will pay.”

Her eyes widen and, rather than be fearful of my ominous tone, a defiant glint in hers accompanies her words as she whispers, “Make them pay, Titus. Do it for Nadia.”

She pulls away and sets her head on my shoulder, and a strange emotion tugs on my heart. When did I begin to care and why did that call tear a hole through my heart when I heard the fear in her voice?

We reachmy apartment and head straight for the bedroom. I intend on caring for Tia. She is in shock and needs a gentle hand right now.

The earlier shock has been replaced with fear and as I run the water in the tub, she watches me as if she’s a statue.

“Who could it be?” She whispers, almost to herself, and I shake my head.

“You may have never met them. That’s the problem with being in the public eye. Strangers think they know you and have a right to your soul.”

“I guess.”

I head over to her and say softly, “You are in shock. Take the bath and relax. I’ll ask the chef to prepare something light to be served here in your room.”

“My room?”

Her eyes are wide and questioning and I say firmly. “Yes, Tia. This is your room, your sanctuary, and nothing or nobody will harm you here.”

She nods, as if she has finally understood the situation she is in, and I say gruffly, “I am here if you want me to stay. If you prefer to be alone, I will respect your wishes.”

“Stay,” she falters and then whispers huskily, “Please, Titus.”

I can refuse her nothing. If she asked me to tear apart the entire country, I would arrange it. The idea of anything happening to her—what could have happened—has alarmed me. It’s as if she is my family now, although I’m only kidding myself because she is way more than that to me.

I leave her to soak in the tub, no matter how much I want to stay. It’s a wrench leaving her behind and I wonder about that. She is business. Nothing else. A means of getting what I want. A star to dazzle my enemies and yet it’s strange how when I stand before her, the one who is dazzled the most is me.

On my wayback from telling Suzannah to make sure Tia has everything and to instruct the chef to prepare a light meal for her, I run into Simeon.

He jerks his head in the direction of my den and as we step inside, he exhales sharply.

“We never saw that coming.”

“Which is a problem.” I reply and he raises his eyes as I add, “It means that somebody is one step ahead of us and lost in the crowd. Until we discover their identity, we will be scrambling in the dark.”

“It’s thrown up a few questions for sure.”

He shakes his head. “I ran a check on Nadia Solomin and it turns out she’s a failed dancer herself. She auditioned for the Bolshoi, but never made the grade.”

“So, she settled for a lesser role just to be included.”

I rub my chin and think hard and Simeon adds, “There’s more.”

My eyes snap to his and from the grave expression on his face, I doubt I’m going to like what he tells me.

“Her employment dates back seven years. She began as a lowly assistant to the chorus and worked her way up to chief assistant of the prima ballerina. The records show that during that time, six dancers have defected from the Bolshoi. Many were overseas at the time and never showed up for the performance. Two went missing here in Moscow.”

“And you believe Nadia had something to do with that?”

He nods. “I do.”

“Because?”

“Dancers love to gossip and during my investigations, an ex dancer who was assisted by Nadia had a lot to say about her.”

---