Page 41 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

Mikhail and I drew our lines in the sand; who would give in first? But I have to admit that this morning was more than I bargained for, and I was left with a throbbing pussy long after he left for the day.

I need a moment to breathe, to recalibrate, to not drown in the intensity of what happened between us this morning.

And that’s why Natalya’s invitation to the philharmonic luncheon felt like a perfectly timed godsend.

The hall gleams with soft amber light; the chandeliers casting intricate shadows on the marble floor. Every corner of the grand room spoke of elegance and old money.

The air is filled with the soft hum of chatter, punctuated by the delicate clinking of wine glasses. Attendees filled the room, donning tailored suits and elegant dresses, some engrossed in conversation while others admired the art on the walls.

The rich sounds of a quartet playing Schubert’s ‘Death and the Maiden’ wafted through the air, evoking a mix of melancholy and romance.

“I still can’t believe you had an invitation to this,” I tell Natalya as we walk in, scoffing in disbelief. “This is a literal dream come true for me.”

She chuckles as she hands me a flute of champagne. “Well, the Baranov name is well known within the circles here, and I’ve been putting it off for years now. So when Mischa told me you were a cellist…” she trails off with a sigh. “I knew I had to bring you along with me.”

The Baranov name is well known in the philharmonic circles? I’m about to ask what she means by this when a smile crosses her face and she looks at me.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says and gestures across the hall. I follow her gaze to an older gentleman with distinguished silver hair, his posture speaking of authority. He walks over to us and my heart literally drops.

Holy shit, this is Chairman Orlov! This man can literally make or break your dreams; oh, my god!

“Gabriette, meet Sebastian Orlov, the chairman of the philharmonic,” Natalya says as if I didn’t know. “This is the lady I spoke to you about; my sister-in-law.”

“Ah, Mrs Baranova,” he begins, offering a polite nod. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Natalya speaks highly of your prowess with the cello. Another one for your family, eh, Natalya?”

Natalya gives a small smile. “It would seem so,” she says, and I turn back to Mr Orlov.

“It’s a pleasure to be here, sir,” I say, taking his outstretched hand and swallowing my revulsion when he kisses it. “I never thought I would ever meet you. It’s such an honor.”

“Oh, you know about me!” He says, regarding me with a curious glint in his eyes. “Since you’re in the family now, I’m guessing you know about Amaranthe Baranova, Mikhail’s great-grandmother?”

My eyebrows quirk in intrigue, and I shake my head. “Not at all. I don’t think I’ve heard of her,” I say.

Mr Orlov looks at me as if I’ve just insulted his entire bloodline, then he takes my hand and leads me to a display along the walls.

“She was a prodigy,” he says with a hint of reverence. “Her talent with the cello was unparalleled in her time. An injury halted her career prematurely, but not before she’d etched her name into the annals of our musical history.”

He gestures to one of the nearby display cases, which showcases an old photograph of a striking woman with brunette hair and piercing hazel eyes, her cello cradled close. Beside it, a pair of headphones lay invitingly.

“May I?”

Mr Orlov is practically buzzing as he picks them up and hands them to me. “Please, be my guest,” he says.

The instant I covered my ears with the headphones, I was completely engulfed in the hauntingly beautiful melodies of the cello. As notes filled with passion and agony flowed, my vision blurred with unshed tears.

The raw emotion she conveyed resonated deep within me, reminding me of the visceral connection music can establish beyond words, beyond gestures. It felt like I stood there for hours, listening to her tell her story, when it was only a few minutes.

I remove the headphones and release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Never before have I heard the cello played with such passion, such absolute beauty, that it brought unresolved emotions to the forefront.

“Magnificent, isn’t she?” Mr Orlov murmurs, watching me intently.

“Yes,” I whisper, wiping my eyes discreetly. “Her music is soul-stirring. I can’t believe Mikhail never told me about her; she’s... wow.”

A gentle touch on my arm pulled me back to reality. Natalya’s voice held a soft concern. “She really was. My great-grandfather never remarried after cancer took her from him. He used to call her his sunshine,” she says, her eyes shimmering.

I nodded, deeply moved by the music. “Her music speaks to me on a profound level. I’d love to know and listen to more of it, if possible.”

Mr Orlove smiles. “Amaranthe had that effect on many. Her soul resonated through her music, and anyone could feel it. Such a loss to the music world; such a profound loss,” he says, shaking his head. “But that being said, I would love to hear you play sometime, Gabriette. Anyone moved by music like this has their own story to tell.”

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