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When her glazed eyes could focus, I nodded briskly. “That baby is mine, Theresa. I know I’m the only man you’ve ever been with. The only man you’ll ever be with. That’s a simple fact.” I stepped away to let her go back to her show.
Trembling, she nodded in agreement, hurrying off before I lost my willpower and had her dress completely off, regardless of where we were at.
I laughed. “Coward,” I called softly after her.
She stiffened, holding onto the door handle. I felt a surge of satisfaction for getting under her skin. Surely she’d forget about everyone else and tear into me so she could get it out of her system and we could both get to what we really wanted. The disappointment was stronger than a blow when she shook her head again and kept going through the door.
Chapter 15 - Theresa
I made it through the rest of the event on autopilot. Surprisingly, it was one of our best nights ever, sales wise, since coming to Miami. Not sure how, but I managed to sell the last of the sculptures from the foreclosed gallery in Los Angeles, even while completely distracted.
The entire rest of the night, Aleksei haunted my peripheral vision, watching me from the sidelines with his fiancée on his arm. I guess seething with jealousy put me on my A-game. I had no right or reason to be jealous of Sofia, but there was no denying I was. It just fed the unwanted anger I had toward him, but he wouldn’t take the hint and leave. Every time I caught his eye and gave him a glare that would have had any other man running for the hills, he only gave me a crooked little grin. No matter how hard I tried to best him, I was always the one to look away. Of course, I had patrons to attend to, or that was how I soothed my burnt ego.
At one point I even wished Donny would show up and hang on me for once, to give Aleksei a taste of his own sour medicine, but as usual, he and my mother were nowhere to be found. Once again, I was left to close out the show myself. Aleksei and his fiancée were among the last stragglers to leave, and I busied myself thanking a lovely Swedish tourist who bought three paintings, assuring her we’d get them safely shipped to her home. The whole time I spoke to her, I prayed they’d be gone by the time I turned around so I wouldn’t have to say anything to them. As much as I wanted to say something snide, I was afraid if I was within a foot of them and had to watch Sofia stroke his arm or stand on tiptoe to kiss his cheek as she’d done more than once throughout the interminable evening, I might just descend into violent behavior.
Aleksei turned me into a madwoman, plain and simple. Every time I heard his laugh from across the room I got goosebumps. Remembered the way his fingertips trailed down the length of my naked body, the way he took so much pleasure in licking every inch of me. One dear old gentleman actually asked if I was cold and offered me his jacket. I roughly chafed away the goosebumps but the memories weren’t so simple to get rid of. And he knew he was torturing me. Why else would he stay? I only hoped it was equal torment for him.
When I finally turned around, thankfully he was gone. I should have breathed a sigh of relief instead of one of disappointment, but like I said, he made me crazy. With everyone gone, I thanked the staff and looked around for either my mother or Donny to help me lock everything up, but they were still nowhere to be seen. Like I suspected, they must have ditched me hours ago to close out one of the many nightclubs they had become addicted to.
I wondered if my mother was having some kind of midlife crisis, or just enjoying a vacation from always being in charge. She was on a video call first thing every morning, barking orders to her second in command and always checking and sending messages, so I had to believe everything was fine back home, or she wouldn’t be so carefree. Maybe it was the constant sunshine and the fact that so many people around here were tourists that going into vacation mode was natural. From what I learned about Donny, he didn’t seem to have any responsibilities at all. Having to marry me was the first thing his father had ever asked him to do. Partying was his default way of life, so maybe he was rubbing off on my mother. Whatever it took to keep them off my back, but a little help now and then would have been appreciated.
By the time everything was finished, I was dead on my feet and collapsed into the car my mom had finally rented. I drove slowly, fighting nausea and feeling sore from being packed into shapewear. A few more weeks and that wasn’t going to fly anymore. The baby bump was getting harder and harder to hide. I had to make a decision soon. After Aleksei’s decree in the hallway, marrying Donny was out. Not that I’d ever try to pass the baby off as his. The idea of it made me retch. Marrying Aleksei was a fantasy, no more realistic than wishing for a knight in shining armor to ride up to our high rise and save me. It seemed like the only thing left for me was to use the money he gave me for my paintings and disappear, at least until the baby was born.
At a stoplight, I patted my confined belly. “Few more minutes and I’ll get this awful thing off,” I promised.
Imagining the rage when Aleksei discovered I was gone raised new goosebumps on my arms, and not from any pleasant memories this time. He’d tear the country, the entire world, apart looking for me. It broke my heart to think about worrying him since I fully planned on contacting him once the baby was born, and he was safely married. It made me gag but, if the alternative was a mafia war, then there really was no alternative. Aleksei and I couldn’t be trusted to be anywhere near each other and, if I stayed in Miami or even the States, he might stop being even-tempered and publicly denounce Sofia to claim me as his own. He thought he was being so brave and could control everything, but if the Pavlovs were wounded enough by that betrayal and wanted him dead badly enough, they’d find a way to do it. Thinking about losing Aleksei, even if he never really belonged to me, made me grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles cracked.
Pulling into the parking garage, I gave up wishing that things were different and gathered the last bit of my strength. Quietly slipping into the apartment so I either wouldn’t wake anyone or cause my mother to come talk to me when I was so tired, I edged through the darkened hall toward my room. Soft music played from the living room, but as I passed, it was dark, save for a lone candle flickering on the coffee table. Either Donny forgot to turn off the stereo when he went to bed or fell asleep on the couch. My mother would never let a candle remain lit unattended, not after a string of arson attacks plagued us when I was little.
She eventually caught up with the culprit, and I’m sure he paid dearly, but not before she became paranoid about fires, instilling the same paranoia in me. We’d visited some of her employees in the hospital after one of the warehouse fires; the horror of the injuries really stuck with me.
“Damn it,” I whispered, irritated that I couldn’t just pass it by.
I tiptoed to the back of the couch, thinking I could lean over and blow it out from that distance. My eyes strained to see anything in the low, flickering light, but I thought I heard a low moan. Stupid, lazy Donny. Tired out from not doing anything but having fun all day, then passed out on the couch, all while risking our lives in a house fire. I was pissed off enough to want to wake him up but really didn’t want to talk to him. Leaning over to blow out the candle, I slipped off the back of the couch, and I tumbled into the cushions, my hand connecting with sweaty, naked flesh. A loud grumble accompanied it, and I yelped as I jumped back.
Donny’s voice rang out, telling the voice activation to turn the lights on.
“No, that’s fine,” I hurriedly said, but the overheads snapped on.
“Oh my God,” my mother shouted.
My naked mother, wrapped up with my naked fiancé, on the couch where I sat most mornings to drink my tea.
“Oh my God,” I repeated as I backed away.
Donny jumped up, giving me much more of a view than I ever wanted. He grabbed the cashmere Afghan from the easy chair and tossed it over my mom. Hurray for chivalry. It was a fruitless gesture though because she swatted him and swore.
“We fell asleep, you idiot,” she hissed.
“It’s all right, babe, she needs to know.”
“Oh my God,” I said again.
I didn’t want to know anything. In fact, I wanted to erase what I just learned. Bile rose up in my throat as I couldn’t help but survey the scene. The dress my mom had been wearing earlier at the gallery was in a crumpled heap on the floor along with Donny’s pants, her bra hung across the edge of the television. Donny’s briefs were on the coffee table along with his tie and socks of all things. I closed my eyes and tried to pretend none of this was happening. Bile rose in my throat, and I dashed for my bathroom, emptying my stomach the second my knees hit the floor in front of the toilet.
Was any of that real? Did my mother and fiancé really have sex on the couch? Like a zombie, I rinsed my mouth and got up, then started flinging things into an overnight bag. I couldn’t stay here, because I was pretty sure what I saw was real. And gross beyond words.
My mother pushed her way into my room, thankfully wearing her satin robe now. “Oh, grow up, Theresa,” she said bitterly.
