Page 6 of Poisoned Roses

Mr. Fedorov is the first to congratulate us.

“Titus and Tatiana. The perfect couple, soon to be the envy of the world and a glorious example of modern Russia. Welcome to your engagement party.”

His demonic gaze penetrates my soul, but I merely smile politely as Titus says, “We are honored to be here, Mr. Fedorov.”

Boris nods, his eagle eyes missing nothing, and he smiles, a sinister, all seeing, evil smirk, that tells me he always gets what he wants, willingly, or unwillingly.

“Come. I will introduce you to our great leader. He is extremely pleased with the outcome of your pairing.”

As we follow him, I steady my beating heart because it’s as if the chains are snapping in place with every step I take.

We reach our great leader who turns and regards us, his cool, enigmatic gaze giving away none of his thoughts.

He is a closed book—alockedbook and one that not many get to read.

“Titus, Tatiana, I was pleased to learn of your marriage. You will be a good example to the world of all that is great about our country. Don’t let us down.”

His meaning is clear as his eyes flash with warning. It’s as if a huge snake is wrapping its body around mine, slowly increasing the pressure so I struggle to breathe. Against mybetter judgment I squeeze Titus’s hand and attempt to steady myself, my heart beating rapidly as I smile politely.

He turns, effectively ending the conversation and moves away to ruin another person’s life and Boris nods his approval.

“You have the president’s seal of approval. We will issue a press release announcing the engagement to the world. Prepare for many questions and accept all invitations. You are about to enter a storm. Make certain you are dressed for it.”

He effectively dismissed us with his words, leaving us to move through the rest of the guests, accepting their congratulations with their words, but their eyes tell a different story. They all know what this is. An act, a charade and I still don’t know why.

Through it all, Titus Romanov holds my hand and says all the right things at the right time. We are supplied with champagne and canapés and act as if we are happy to be here. It’s a good job acting is my profession because one thing I must never let them see is how utterly terrified I am inside.

CHAPTER 3

TITUS

The evening is one of excruciating boredom and I wish it were over already.

When we are finally allowed to leave, I walk with Tatiana by my side, her questions silenced—for now.

Once again, we take our seats in the car and as we move away she leans back and sighs with relief. “Thank God that’s over.”

“I was sure you would enjoy the experience.”

I’m surprised because most women would. An invitation to an intimate gathering at the Kremlin isn’t something that comes by very often.

“I hated every minute of it.” She hisses, causing a brief smile to light my face.

She has surprised me tonight. Tatiana Pavlov is certainly beautiful, successful and has it all worked out. However, she is a closed book and no matter how hard I tried to read it, I am still none the wiser.

“What happens now?” Her soft voice punctures the still air and I say simply, “You return home.”

“I doubt that’s it, um, Titus.”

She sighs. “I mean, what happens tomorrow, the next day and the weeks and months after? Are we really going through with this and why? You see–” She turns and her eyes sparkle against the shadows of the car as she whispers, “I am a dancer, not a wife. We travel a lot in the Bolshoi and rehearse even harder. I won’t be able to make time for this, so I’m not sure how I can help you.”

“Correction, Tatiana, youwerea dancer for the Bolshoi.”

I note fear replaces curiosity and I lean back and sigh heavily. “You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”

I gaze out of the window at the blurred landscape and say huskily, “We belong to Russia and she is a cruel mother. Everything we possess is because she allowed us to. One day we must pay her back for the dream and it’s a costly one. Your career was allowed, even though you worked hard and excelled at it. It made you into a commodity that she will now exploit, and you don’t have a say in the matter. Russia owns you and if you think you can decide, I pity your future.”

“What about you, Titus? What has Mother Russia done for you that means she now controls your soul?”

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