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We make our way to the bar that is set in the front of the aircraft, and I stare with curiosity at the people surrounding us. They seem familiar to me. Men with many tattoos and fuck off attitudes. There are a few in suits who are working on laptops and a couple of women who are checking their phones.
Nobody gives us a second look and I like that. I usually live my life in a goldfish bowl, the subject of interest everywhere I go. If I’m at home, it’s as if I’m being scrutinized and in public it’s no different, largely due to the number of guards surrounding me.
I like this anonymity and as we sit at a table, Alexei heads to the bar and I study him with growing interest. He doesn’t expect to be served like my family does. He is engaged in conversation with the man beside him, who appears at ease with him. When he returns, he is carrying two espressos, which makes me smile.
“Is something funny, little one?” He sets them down on the table and I shrug. “We’re in a bar. I expected you to return with your usual vodka.”
“I need to keep a clear head.” He sighs as he sits opposite me and leans back in his seat. “This won’t be a fun visit, Serena. My family doesn’t deal with emotion well and will be worse than normal.”
“In what way?”
He shrugs. “They will fight their grief and deal with it badly. I think you’ve been on the receiving end of that.”
I shake my head and smile sadly. “Any emotion is welcome, Alexei. I know a lot about hiding it and my family is the same. We give an outward appearance of cool detachment, but inside is a struggle to keep any feelings away. It’s the mafia way and obviously the Romanov way, too. Don’t worry about me, I get it.”
To my surprise, he reaches across the table and takes my hand and squeezes it gently, staring into my eyes with a grateful expression.
“Thanks for understanding, little one. It means a lot.”
I have no words because moments like this are rare in my life. I have never been treated like this. As an equal. Somebody of importance and I like it. My family does, to an extent, but I always feel as if I’m tolerated. As long as I play my part, they approve. The fact I ditched my protection and ran off with a stranger won’t have gone down well, but Alexei has diffused that particular bomb and they will never know.
I watch him closely and it appears he has withdrawn into himself as he gazes out of the window, his hand resting on mine across the table. I say nothing and just direct furtive glances his way, not really understanding what is going on between us.
As soon as the seatbelt signs illuminate, we strap ourselves in and with a deep sense of regret, the dream is over.
* * *
I’m usedto traveling in convoy, but this is something else.
Lines of black cars are waiting for us and as we disembark the aircraft, the passengers fill them. The luggage is loaded onto a truck at the back and there is a guard on every door that I recognize. Dressed in black with black shades, obviously armed, both with a gun and a don’t fuck with me attitude.
Alexei directs me to one in the middle and as we take our seats, the guard nods respectfully and closes the door. As we set off, Alexei stares out of the window, not even attempting to make conversation, but I understand why. I would feel the same if I was in his position and so I gaze out of the window at the passing scenery with interest.
I am pleasantly surprised. I always imagined Russia as cold and filled with snow. This place is sunny with blue skies, the trees are green, and the landscape is impressive. I am fascinated by it and act like an eager tourist as I stare at a place I never imagined visiting.
The time passes so quickly I’m astonished when the cars slow down and Alexei sighs. “This is home, little one. I’m sorry to put you through this ordeal.”
I stare out at the huge, majestic gates that keep everyone out while the security guards check every car inside. It takes a while because there are so many and as we reach our turn, I’m intrigued when Alexei rolls down the window and the guard says something in Russian and then nods respectfully.
Alexei nods and the guard steps back and waves us through and as the window closes, I say with curiosity, “Why is security so tight?”
“Because Russia is a dangerous place, little one. My family has many enemies and leave nothing to chance.”
“I see.” It’s no different with my family, but I thought it would be for the Romanovs. They are businessmen first, not mafia. Perhaps I got that wrong.
The drive to the house takes a further ten minutes and I gaze out on parkland and landscaped gardens as we pass. This is wealth on a grand scale, and I should have known really from by the size of their plane.
Most of the other cars head somewhere else but the car in front of ours and the one behind stop outside a huge front entrance and as we come to a stop, I stare out at a mansion that would rival a large country hotel. White marble gleams in the sunlight and there appears to be nothing out of place. It’s the grandest house I have ever seen, and I blink as the huge front door opens and a uniformed servant stands to attention.
The car door opens, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see his fucking black carpet rolled out for us to walk on because it’s as if royalty has come to town.
Alexei offers me his hand and as we step out, he squeezes it gently before pulling me along with him inside the mansion.
Once again, the servant says something respectfully in Russian, and Alexei nods but says nothing in return.
As we head inside, I’m surprised to see two women waiting for us and Alexei turns to me and says with an apology in his eyes.
“You must go with Maria and Alina, and they will show you to your rooms. I must go to my mother. I’ll come and find you when I have dealt with my family.”
