Page 59 of Weeping Roses
VALENTIN
Artem knows better than to speak right now because my fury is at explosion levels. As we listen to the conversation, every word that woman speaks drives extreme pain into my heart. Two words in particular killed me inside.
Loveless marriage.
It’s as if my life is built on a lie and I am struggling to keep my composure.
When she offered Polly a job as one of her paid whores, it took all my inner strength not to tear in there and throttle the woman. Over my dead body will Polly go anywhere near Burning Roses. The tainted organization that Marsha operates to deliver young girls to the arm and subsequent bed of wealthy old men.
Imagining my father as one of those men hurts my heart because I thought he was better than that. Family is everything to a Romanov. It’s how he brought us up and now I feel betrayed. It’s as if his words were lies flickering in the breeze and easily extinguished. There was no substance to them at all, and my anger knows no bounds.
The minute she asked to buy Thorn House, my eyes met Artem’s, and we realized the real reason for the meeting.
As their conversation comes to an end and Polly stands to leave, I say to Artem, “Is the car ready?”
“Waiting at the exit.”
“Good.”
The car we arranged to collect Polly is a London cab, expertly driven by one of my men disguised as a cabbie. Marsha will be no wiser if she sees her leave and Polly will be protected from any harm because I am taking no chances with her safety all the time Nikolai Barinov is in town.
“Thorn House.” I say simply, and Artem nods.
“There must be something of great interest there.”
He shakes his head. “First Nikolai and now Marsha. Whatever it is, we have yet to find it.”
“I agree.” I narrow my gaze and say steadily, “This is a fucking shitstorm, but we have been presented with an opportunity we would be fools to ignore.”
He leans forward and I whisper, “I’ll tell Polly to agree to the meeting and we will have eyes on Marsha at all times. Polly will leave her after making an excuse and we’ll watch what Marsha does. If there is something at Thorn House, Marsha Steele may be the one to reveal it to us.”
“Then Polly needs to make it clear she is not interested in selling. It will drive desperation and Marsha will become reckless.” Artem adds, a cunning expression in his eye that makes me smile. Artem’s mind works exactly like mine, which is why we work so well together, and I nod my approval.
“She will believe she has less than thirty minutes to locate what she needs before their meeting ends. This could work.”
I lean back and hear Polly wishing Marsha good afternoon as they part company, and I will not move until I know Marsha is gone. We are sitting in the restroom, not far from the restaurant, where the signal was the best on offer to listen in. If Marsha sees me, she will be on her guard and it’s imperative we maintain the element of surprise.
Whatever secret Thorn House is holding may well be mine by this time tomorrow and I’m not sure how I feel about that. The search may move away from Polly and her aunt and I’m undecided whether I’ll take her with me. In doing so, she will be in danger, but if I leave her behind, she may be considered a loose end and dealt with accordingly. Either way, Polly‘s life is under threat because of my father and I will not let her become another casualty in something I know nothing about.
Once the men I instructed to follow Marsha give me the all clear, we leave to take the waiting car to Briar House. As we make the short journey, I discuss with Artem the best way to approach this and we work out a plan, so we are both left in no doubt at all about where we take it from here.
I’m mindful I need to check in with Titus, but require the secure connection that will only be available at the house. However, it’s vital I speak to Polly first before my brother and so as soon as we step foot inside the house, I head off to find her.
As expected, I find her in the dressing room, changing out of the smart suit into more casual clothes.
As I enter, she looks up and as our eyes meet, I register the relief in hers.
“I fucking hate that woman.” She hisses, and it makes me laugh.
“I will excuse your choice of word, malyshka, because this time it’s well said.”
She rolls her eyes and pulls down her sweatshirt, covering the body I could stare at all day long.
“How did it go?”
I already know the answer to that, but am interested to see what Polly tells me. Call it a trust test. If she omits any information, I will deal with that accordingly, but she sinks down onto the padded bench seat and sighs.
“You won’t like it.”