Page 29 of Poisoned Roses

I registered the admiring glances from the other diners and not just from the men. She has an ability to light up a room, and I considered myself extremely fortunate to be sitting beside her tonight.

I could tell Irina was doubtful at first, which was the entire reason for the evening. If we can win her over, our path through society will be a smooth one. She is the queen for a reason and with her help, Tatiana will be invited to every gathering and every social occasion and work her way up in society, as well as outside it.

She is a famous ballerina, loved all over the world and now she must rise to be Russia’s queen because my intention is to win the hearts of everyone. To snatch the crown from the current incumbent and oust them from power, so our charm offensive on the country begins now.

It will take time. I realize that but the elections are not far away and I have already secured my candidacy.

The man who arranged it is the one we are meeting next, and I wonder if he realizes that his downfall will be the first item on my agenda.

“Are you okay?” Tia surprises me by asking when we are alone in the car and, as I shift the Maserati into gear, I nod. “Of course, are you?”

“I think so.” Her soft voice is sweet and seductive, and what happens later tonight hasn’t been far from my thoughts all evening.

It’s been a while since I fucked a woman. I just haven’t had time due to the shit my family is dealing with right now. The last time was a casual dinner date with Clarissa that ended up in a paid hotel room, and then we went our separate ways. Cold, unemotional, and rough. That was the mission and yet tonight I am planning a more different approach because I am fully aware that Tia is a virgin.

I’m guessing that is why I can think of nothing else.

We meet Boris, who is escorting another young companion in the royal box and as we enter, he immediately heads our way.

“Ah, the happy couple. You look ravishing, Tatiana.”

He seizes her hand and I’m glad she wore gloves because the idea of his thick lips on her skin would mean I scrubbed it away personally.

“Mr. Fedorov.” She is polite and her smile respectful, but I sense her shoulders tensing and her movements are stilted.

“Come and sit beside me. The opera is about to begin.”

The lights dim and we do as he says and I hate that Tatiana is seated beside him. If I see one touch out of place tonight, I am liable to bring my agenda forward.

We are watching the aptly chosen Marriage of Figaro. It tells how the servants Figaro and Susanna succeed in getting married, foiling the efforts of their philandering employer, Count Almaviva, to seduce Susanna and teach him a lesson in fidelity. I notice the parallels because we are definitely Boris Fedorov’s servants and he is likely to try to seduce my fiancée. I wish the evening was over already, because what I have in mind when we return home is far more pleasurable.

Throughout the performance, Boris whispers the story into Tatiana’s ear and I’m guessing he didn’t do his homework like me because she is well versed in the arts. She has lived and breathed them since she was a child and she could probably teach him a thing or two about the show we are watching.

She nods and smiles in all the right places but I don’t miss that she is shifting closer to me the more he tries to engage with her, so I send a message to him by reaching for her hand and holding it possessively as the soprano sings before us.

The situation doesn’t require more drama and I’m aware this is all a public relations exercise to show the word that we are together. To forge a love story in the public eye and posefor the endless photographs that will flood the internet almost immediately.

We must play the game in order to change the rules and if attending these functions brings about my revenge, I will spend every minute making it happen.

Thankfully, we don’t have to make polite conversation for too long as the show demands our attention and at the interval, the lights come on and Boris turns to Tatiana with a gleam in his eye.

“Your marriage has pleased Denislav. He wants to portray a united Russia to the world; one where we celebrate progress and promote our own stars.”

He leans forward and the way she freezes tells me she’s uncomfortable and he whispers, “I will take a personal interest in your transition from ballerina to darling of the state.”

“You are very kind.”

She is polite but reserved, which I know is all an act. In private, she is not. I have seen a side to her that I’m guessing many don’t, and that is what has surprised me the most.

Boris turns to his companion and I don’t miss the way he grips her bare leg hard. The slash in her dress runs right to her waist and it doesn’t take a genius to work out the outfit was his choice.

I’m aware of his health problems. He has just undertaken a bone marrow transplant, courtesy of my brother’s girlfriend, who, as it turned out, is Boris’s long-lost daughter. It reminds me we are unraveling a web of deceit and lies that spans generations, and it is my intention to bring about the end of it.

Tatiana leans closer and whispers, “Do we have to stay for the second act?”

“Of course.” I share her desire to leave, especially because she is so appealing tonight.

I wasn’t intending on being intimate with Tatiana until our wedding night. It was never really part of the plan, but myattraction to her cannot be denied. It will make this easier if we are lovers because this is not a short-term problem. It will take a great deal of thought and planning to make it happen and when it’s over, she can choose to leave or I will demand it.

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