Page 90 of Lethal Torture
This is the problem, I think as the car winds up the mountain roads leading from the coastal city of Malaga to the mountains rearing above, where Roman’s finca is located.One slip, one moment of letting down my guard, and this shitstorm of emotion and doubt is the result.
My head continues to spin in equally unhelpful directions as we turn off the freeway and onto a series of small roads, until finally we’re on the narrow lane that winds up to a large white Spanish house with terra-cotta roofing, set amid old craggy holmoak trees. As the car gets closer I spot an infinity pool jutting over the edge of the cliff and colorful bougainvillea spread across the walls in the courtyard, before we turn on the gravel driveway and park in front of a set of wide stone steps.
Darya is standing out front as I open the door.
“Zinaida.” She steps forward, hands outstretched, beaming. “Welcome.” She kisses me lightly on both cheeks. Her dark hair is swept up in a loose mess that manages to look both elegant and effortless. Tawny skinned with sloping almond eyes, she stands a head taller than me, wearing a simple rose-colored sundress and sandals. As she greets me, a small figure barrels through her legs, his walk dropping to a crawl as he hits the stairs and tumbles over.
“Oh, Aleksander!” She scoops up the squirming figure, who has a handful of gravel, which he proudly presents to her. “Thank you, darling.” She kisses his cheek and smooths a mop of black curls back from his face.
“Aleksander!” A tall blonde girl comes dashing out a moment later, her blue eyes sparkling.
Ofelia.My memory certainly hadn’t lied when I described Roman’s eldest daughter to Luke as stunning. If she was striking at sixteen, when I first met her at Roman’s wedding, now, at what I guess to be twenty, she could grace a catwalk without any training at all.
“I’m sorry, Darya,” she pants as she reaches for the toddler. “He got away before I had a chance to stop him.” She reaches for Aleksander, covering his face with kisses. “We’re going out, baby boy,” she says, rubbing her nose against his. “Won’t that be fun? I’m sorry,” she says, turning to me and smiling. “It’s nice to see you, Zinaida. I know how much Darya is looking forward to spending time with you.” To my surprise, she actually sounds like she means it.
“It’s lovely to see you again, Ofelia. Are you babysitting?” I smile at her as Darya turns to usher me inside.
“Well, sort of.” She smiles at her stepmother then turns back to me. “Rosa and I are taking Aleksander and Masha to watch the fiesta in the village. Hopefully we’ll wear them out by the time we come back.”
As we go into the house, I catch a glimpse of the previously unsmiling Bryce, grinning widely as he wrestles a small girl into the back of the limousine beside Ofelia, Aleksander, and an older woman I recall as Roman’s mother. A full team of security guards enter cars both in front of and behind the limo.
After what happened in Miami, I’m guessing Roman doesn’t fuck about with security.
“Thank goodness,” Darya sighs as she waves them off through the door. “Don’t get me wrong,” she says, leading me across the stone floor to a wide, sunny kitchen that has herbs hanging down from the timber beams and something delicious bubbling on the stove. “I adore my children. But with six-month-old twins, and since Aleksander started walking, the bliss of a chaos-free house is impossible to describe.”
“Where are the twins?” I ask as we go inside.
“With Abby and Dimitry. They live on the next farm over, close enough for this to still work.” Darya waves at a baby monitor, her face brimming with laughter. “Abby is pregnant again, so Roman convinced Dimitry that babysitting the twins overnight would be good training. Mind you,” she adds, as I start to laugh, “my nanny is with them, so it’s not exactly a realistic rehearsal. Not to mention Abby’s parents, who are staying here until she has the baby, and Ofelia and Rosa, when they get back.” She cuts her eyes to mine rather guiltily. “I fear that both Roman and I might have shamelessly used your visit as an excuse to escape parenthood for an evening.”
That makes me laugh. “I’m glad to be of service.”
“Abby said to tell you she’s sorry to miss you this time, but that she’d far rather catch up when she can have margaritas again. Speaking of which,” she says, pausing at the fridge and looking at me with raised eyebrows, “can I offer you a drink?”
“Definitely.” I’m still laughing, and for once, I find myself almost instantly relaxed. Perhaps it’s to do with the house itself, which overlooks the valley all the way to the sea and is surrounded by scented plants and nothing louder than the rustle of trees. But more than that, there’s something about Darya herself that is incredibly soothing.
We take our drinks out onto the terrace, where we sit beneath a vine-covered trellis. “My father is over in Miami,” Darya tells me, pushing an extremely large gin and tonic across the table. “With my brother, Alexei. He hates being away from Rosa, but Rosa hates being away from Aleksander, so he’s gone alone for a couple of weeks.”
“Your father.” I sip my drink, which is flavored with lemon so fresh it tastes like spring in a glass. “Sergei, is that right?” I frown. “I thought he was quite elderly?”
“Yes.” She gives me a wry smile. “He is. But don’t try to tell him that. As far as Papa is concerned, he’s still fifty. He stays out of the business for the most part, but Alexei wanted his advice on a few matters, so he’s gone to stay with him for a few weeks. He did a good job of making it sound like work, but his poker face was terrible, believe me. He was packed and on that plane before Alexei had finished the call. But that’s enough about family.” Her eyes settle on mine with unsettling perception. “What brings you to Spain, Zinaida?”
“Ha.” I take another mouthful of my drink, avoiding her eyes. “To be quite frank, that’s a good question. Apart from business, obviously.”
“Obviously.” Darya’s smile is more understanding than is quite comfortable. “But then, everything is business in ourworld, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s hard to work out where business ends and life begins. For some people they’re separate things, but for people like us, the two are one and the same.”
“Exactly.” I stare at her, slightly surprised. “Yes, that’s exactly how it is. Not many people understand that.”
“No.” Her smile fades, and I can see the shadow of something behind her eyes. “For some people it’s all a bit overwhelming, I guess.”
“That sounds like you’re talking from experience.” I sip my drink, watching her.
She nods slowly. “I’m not sure how much Roman ever told you about my background, but for a long time before he and I met, I was living under a different name.”
“I’m aware.”As is anyone in our world who hasn’t been living under a rock for the past few years.The betrayal of Darya’s family, and their eventual revenge, alongside the romance between Darya and Roman that tamed one of the wildest men I know, was whispered about so widely it is almost legend.
“It’s hard to make friends when you’re living a lie. I was lucky to find Abby, but even then I couldn’t tell her the truth, or at least not at first.”
“Really?” I’m surprised. “I always thought you two were as close as sisters.”
