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“What about the clause Petra was talking about?” I ask in shock.
“That clause is indeed in my aunt’s will. I told Babushka to add it years ago.”
I have to admit I didn’t see that one coming. I want to reject the explanation as lies, but Alex seems so genuine and I know in my heart he’s telling me the truth. “Why?”
“Basically, my relatives are freeloaders and parasites. They have no issues with doing nothing and living off Babushka. She allows it because she likes to be surrounded by them. After all, they’re family and blood is thicker than water, but deep down, she knows what they’re after. Her money. And that’s why she made a little joke about them being so eager to get their hands on some of her money that they could arrange for her to have a fall, or even slowly poison her.”
My mouth drops open at the idea of them trying to kill her. Killing me, a complete stranger is one thing, but a sweet little old lady like Babushka?
“To be honest, at that time, I thought she was being a bit paranoid, but there’s nothing I won’t do to keep her happy so even though I didn’t believe it, I came up with the idea of the clause. The clause would mean it would be in their interest to make sure Babushka lived as long as possible so they could continue to live in the style they had become accustomed to. In the event she died, a trust would take over and they would all get a pittance compared to what they enjoy now. Since I didn’t want anybody to suspect why we were changing the will, we let everyone think it was because Babushka wanted me to get married and produce heirs. It worked. Everybody believed it and everyone was happy because nobody could see me settling down with anyone. In fact, it was more likely they would be attending my funeral than my wedding. That is until now when I wanted to make Babushka happy with the thought that she was going to get what she wanted all along and …”
“You brought me into the picture,” I finish for him.
He nods. “Anyway, what none of the family knows, is that the will they’ve seen with the clause isn’t Babushka’s real will. Her real will is with her lawyer. It gives Marina and Viktor a good payout as she’s already bought them a house. It gives Petra and Anastasia enough to live in a fairly grand style. I will inherit Winter House, regardless of my marital status and Valeriya will live in the house for as long as she wants. The rest of Babushka’s money will be used to start a charity in Russia for homeless children. If you don’t believe me, I can show you a copy of the real will.”
Cindy
As Alex explains his side of the situation, I had a hundred questions, but they’ve all mostly faded away. His explanation makes sense. Much more sense than thinking that he needs his aunt’s money, or that he’d purposely con the one family member he has who loves him completely.
“I … oh my God, Alex, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I believed that of you,” I say.
He shrugs.
“Petra got into your head. She’s good like that. How else could you react?”
“But why didn’t you tell me all this that day?”
“I wanted more than anything to tell you the truth that day, but Winter House wasn’t the place to do it. As you learned, there are tunnels and passageways everywhere and I was pretty certain either Petra or Anastasia would be around your room hoping to hear us talking. I knew I could not keep both you and Babushka safe. Even though it devastated me to send you away in the way I did, I knew my best bet was to get you off the property and back to safety while Petra and Anastasia thought we had fallen out. Once you were gone I knew they couldn’t harm you and I could more effectively sort out Babushka’s situation to my satisfaction.”
“Everything I said to you from the moment we met is true, Cindy. I am in love with you. Completely, hopelessly in love with you. And that means total honesty. Even if it hurts.”
I stare in his familiar stormy eyes and feel my heart skip a beat. He loves me! It wasn’t all a lie. What we had was real. I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. I close it again and just sit in silence, trying to process everything he’s told me, but mostly just hearing him say he’s in love with me. It vibrates inside my head. And it sounds beautiful.
“Cindy? You do believe me, don’t you?” he says, a tinge of worry in his voice.
