by Serena Vale
Quickly, he banished the thought, trying to reassure himself yet again that everything was okay. He shoved open their bedroom door and stalked in, simultaneously flicking on the lights. He took a few more steps forward, but stopped. It was clear to see that the room was empty. Where the hell could she be?
He tried to stem the flood of fear that tried to bubble to the surface again, ruthlessly shoving it down and away. He would stay calm. There was no reason to be worried. But then why did his stomach feel like it was tied in knots? Why did his breath come in short, hurried pants, like he couldn’t inhale fully?
Just as he turned to stomp back out of the room and continue his search, a glint from the bed caught his eye. He turned back, practically running to the bedside. His heart hitched painfully as he hastily grabbed for the achingly familiar diamond engagement ring. A small scrap of paper floated to the floor, disturbed by his reach, and he picked it up, furiously scanning the short message.
Dear Dom,
I can’t put into words how much you have come to mean to me. I know we haven’t known each other that long, but when I’m with you, I feel like I’m home. That’s why I have to leave. I know you don’t feel the same way about me, and that’s fine. But you have given me so much, and I want to be able to give you something in return. I left the ring, so you can find someone else, so you can have the child you need to have the future you deserve. To have the life you deserve. I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I do–
The scribbled words ended abruptly, and he could see the wet spots in the ink where here tears had fallen. His heart broke. Dominic swore loudly anyone standing in the room would have heard it.
What the hell was she thinking? His brain immediately began to panic again, this time in full force as he looked around the room and noticed for the first time that her things were gone. Her clothes, the silly scented lotion she slathered on each night before bed. It was all gone. And so was she.
Layla walked through the door of her childhood home and collapsed. Tears threatened yet again, but somehow she pushed them back. She had cried the entire hour and a half walk from Dominic’s house to here, and she felt like she should be all dried up. But the mere thought of his name sent raw pain lancing through her.
I did the right thing, Layla tried to convince herself as she leaned back against the familiar floral print couch her mother used to sit for hours and knit on. I did the right thing for him. But did I do the right thing for me?
She already knew the answer to that question. She lay there, feeling her heart breaking into a thousand tiny shards, each one cutting deeper than the last. She should have known better than to give her heart away, than to fall in love. It had just been so easy, Dominic had made her feel like the most important person in the world to him.
But Layla knew there was no way he could feel the same way about her, and the thought of living with him, year after year, falling ever more in love while he remained the same, affectionate but distant. It was pure torture.
A sound at the door had her ears perking up, but before she could even move up off of the couch the sound came again, like a heavy thud against the door. She was about to stand, but the door itself buckled in, the frame snapping under the pressure and she was left staring at a sweaty, red faced Dominic. And he looked furious.
“You…you could have knocked, you know.” Layla stammered out as she stood, but her stomach was dropping. She wasn’t ready to see him. To talk to him. What was there to say anyways?
Dominic stalked towards her, and the red hot glare in his normally silver blue eyes made her immediately sit back down. She had never seen him this angry before.
“What the hell were you thinking, Layla!” He spit at her as he grabbed her wrists and hauled her back to her feet to face him. “I was so worried, I couldn’t find you anywhere…” His words stalled as she was suddenly crushed to his still heaving chest, his arms like steel bands around her, squeezing her so tight she could barely breathe. It felt like heaven. “I was terrified, Layla. And then I found the ring, and that silly note you left.”
She tried to pull back at that, but he wouldn’t release her, his arms unmovable, so she spoke against his muscular chest. “That note wasn’t silly, Dominic. It broke my heart, but you need–.”
“Hush. It broke my heart too. Don’t you see?” Finally, he released her, but just enough so that she could tilt her head up to see his face, his serious expression. “I need you. I need you Layla.”
“No, you don’t, Dominic, you need…” She struggled to get the words out.
“You’re not listening to me Layla.” He shook her until she looked up at him again, meeting his fiery silver gaze. “I need you. I love you. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even want the business if it means I have to lose you to get it. Don’t you understand, vozlyublennaya? I love you.”
His words came out in a torrent so quickly it took her a moment to process what he was saying, and it took a moment longer for her to believe it, but the look in his eyes convinced her. Again she had to fight back tears, but this time they were tears of joy as she watched him get down on one knee in front of her, reach into his pocket, and then raise up his hand towards her. Her wedding ring glinted prettily in his masculine fingers, and moisture gleamed wetly from his silver gaze as well.
“Layla Banks, will you do me the honor of being my wife?”
She stared down at him for a long, love-filled moment, made speechless by the emotions that were choking her.
“Please, vozlyublennaya?”
She released her pent up breath on a choked laugh, throwing her arms around his neck. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes.” She wasn’t even aware of the words she was saying, all she could see was his face, breaking into a radiant smile so full of love it was impossible to look away. She grinned back at him. Now, she would never have to.
Epilogue 11 months later
“Here you go, Mr. Strokowski.” Dominic leaned forward to take the still sealed envelope from the lawyer’s hands. He turned it over, and an unexpected lump formed in his throat at the sight of his father’s familiar scrawl. It was addressed to him. His father had written just before Dominic’s parent’s death, when he had made that amendment to his will that had completely turned Dom’s life around.
He glanced up at a sound, and didn’t realize he had a goofy grin of happiness on his face as he watched his gorgeous wife cradling their two month old baby son in her loving arms. Layla must have felt his gaze on her because just then, she looked up, and their eyes collided sending sparks of love and desire shooting through him, just as it always did.
Of all the people in the entire world to crash into him that day just outside of this very office, he knew how lucky he was that it had been her. Layla. She had made his life richer in every way. His eyes were drawn back to the lawyer as he cleared his throat.
“It’s the last part of your father’s amended will. This letter, to be delivered to you two months after the birth of your child.” He reached over and briskly shook Dominic’s hand before leaving him to open the letter in privacy.
Dominic gazed down at it, running his hands over the smooth ivory vellum, the dark red wax seal that had his father’s personal monogram. With a deep breath, he cracked open the seal, and taking one last look at his beloved wife and child, pulled out the letter. His chest tightened painfully as he read his father’s words.
Son,
I know what a shock it must have been when you were told about the amendment I made to my will. I know how angry you must have been, and I hope that someday you can come to forgive an old man for hopeful thinking.
I saw the way your life was going, always working, and sacrificing everything, even your own happiness, for the sake of the business. Please believe me when I say that is not what I wanted for you.
You are so much like me, stubborn and hardworking, focused, yes, but sometimes so focused that we blind ourselves to the more important things in life. The most important thing. Love.
Your mother saved me, and I only want the same for you. The same happiness and the same joy. I’m just sorry that I had to trick you to get it. I’m sure you know by now that you would have inherited the family estates and business regardless of whether you were married or not. I’m sorry, and again, I hope you can forgive a silly old man. I just wanted the best for you, I always have.
With all the love in my heart,
Your father
Dominic blinked rapidly to clear his eyes of the moisture that threatened at each corner. Slowly, precisely, he refolded the letter and slid it back into its envelope, his father’s words replaying over and over in his head. Always put your family first, and keep the woman you love close by your side, because you will need her.
He glanced up at Layla, still cuddling their baby boy, who was now fast asleep in her arms. She looked up, and must have read some of the emotions swirling in him because she immediately walked over to him. He opened his arms, gesturing for her to take a seat on his lap, and she did, wiggling slightly with the baby still in her arms until she found the most comfortable spot.
“What is it, Dom?” She whispered softly, looking up at him with concern. He reached out and tucked a stray dark curl behind her ear, just staring at her.
“I was just advised that I need to keep you close.”
She arched a brow at that, but a small smile curved her full lips.
“Well, I’d say that’s pretty good advice, then.” She leaned forward and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he wrapped his arms even tighter around his family. He would take his father’s advice to heart. He would keep them close, and never let them go.
“I love you, Dominic.” Layla’s sweet voice had him pulling them in even closer.
“And I love you, vozlyublennaya.”
THE END
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Tamed By the Russian Billionaire
Chapter 1
Regina Wells replayed the digital voice recorder for the third time since she had left the office. The conversation was, like all conversations that she usually recorded, full of details that she carefully examined so as not to miss anything that could be useful later. She hadn’t gotten to where she was by being careless and letting simple things pass her by. Meticulousness counted for as much as attitude in her business and personal experience had taught her that little things could surmount mountain-sized obstacles.
Details are an amazing thing, she thought.
She keyed the recorder and listened again, closing her eyes and shutting out the sights and sounds around her. Not that there was anything interesting to distract her. The limo in which she rode was soundproofed against noises from the outside, so she was quite alone with the voices held within the simple device as much as her own thoughts.
Her mind painted the memory of the place where the conversation had taken place a three hours before as she listened.
She opened the door and strolled into the office of her supervisor, James Carver. The office, like always, had that distinct smell that she had come to associate with the fragrance of old books sitting on a shelf and gathering dust. It wasn’t likely that she actually smelled dust considering that the place was kept immaculate. As fanatic as she was about details, so her supervisor was on appearance. She had once seen a pile of dirt upon the carpet. It had been barely noticeable by her and likely tracked in by some unsuspecting soul and when she had returned twenty minutes later, it had been removed from the room.
Another sign that James controls everything in his realm the same way a god does, she had thought.
Though she supposed that was only appropriate since James was like unto her the same way holy men were to those that worshipped this god or another: a law giver.
The office was lined wall-to-wall with bookshelves that extended from the floor all the way to the high ceiling, reminding her of libraries that she had seen in movies that she had loved as a child. Sitting on the shelves were thick and fat books with hard covers. Each contained the records of hundreds of thousands of legal cases, the precedents through which many a legal action had been settled or lost.
The shelves were so tall that facing those volumes was a rolling brass ladder that provided one access to the many books that flanked her on all sides as she crossed the room. Only two walls of the office held no books, each at opposite sides of the room; where she had entered and where she was bound for.
The far wall was a large tinted window that protected a sweeping view beyond. Outside was the Atlantic Ocean. The view was, in Regina’s eyes, a reminder that the work that they did here stretched beyond the waters.
Graham & Associates was one of the few existing law firms that specialized in international law. More like the laws that nobody wants to mingle with, she had reflected. Regina counted herself fortunate that she had been able to come and work within such a prestigious firm as the waiting list to be even be considered to work in such a place was as long as her leg, even if one had the right credentials. Though a full ride scholarship through Stanford Law and that her family had ties with the firm certainly hadn’t hurt her chances either.
She arrived at the desk to the man owning the office and gave him a quick once-over. James Carver was an old man, pushing at least seventy if she were to guess. His hair had turned silver and she almost laughed at how well it matched the expensive suit he wore. His skin bore a few wrinkles at his face and a few liver spots upon his hands, but despite his age he showed no signs of being senile.
He was, like always, looking at some brief in a manila folder when she entered and he didn’t even look up from it when she arrived at the foot of his desk and settled into one of the two leather chairs facing him.
“You pack a bag?” he asked, his voice thick with an English accent.
“Yes,” she replied quickly, “why have I come and where am I going?”
“I love how you get right to it,” he said, his eyes still scanning the contents of the folder. “Alexi Romanov, what do you know?”
She knew the name and recited everything that she knew for a fact. “Only what I read in the paper.”
“Highlights,” he commanded politely.
“Russian national, business tycoon – some kind of tech industry – was over here on business when someone blew the whistle on his questionable business practices back home. No details given, but whatever it was it was enough to have him hole-up at the Russian Embassy in Washington. Because of his contacts and because of his money he hasn’t been sent back and he hasn’t been indicted for whatever crimes the Russians say he’s committed. He’s been there… two weeks now?”
“Three,” James corrected her.
Regina cringed inwardly at herself. Details, woman, details!
“And whatever his troubles, they’ve gone from being minor to being shoved into deathly-serious,” James added as he closed the folder and folded his hands in his lap with it, fixing her with his dark brown eyes. “That’s where you come in.”
She nodded. “I’m going to Washington.” It wasn’t a question.
“Alexi Romanov’s problems are severe enough that he’s offering five billion, USD, to whichever firm keeps him out of Russian prisons. I hear Siberia is on the table for him and I understand it’s quite miserable this time of… well… any time of year, really.”
“And you want me to keep Alexi Romanov out of prison and attain this $5 billion for the firm.” Again, it wasn’t a question, merely a simple description of her line-of-march.
“That’s why I’m sending you, Regina. You’re smart.”
“Then may I bring up a point of concern?”
&nb
sp; “Please.”
“Alexi Romanov’s reputation isn’t squeaky clean. From what I read in the paper his father – whom he inherited his business from – had some questionable practices of his own. And unless the acorn fell very far from the tree…”
“You recall law school? Moral vacuums and all of that, which I’m certain sounds familiar to you?” James asked matter-of-factly.
“I do,” she replied evenly.
“Those classes were meant to desensitize you. The same way serial killers torture puppies at young ages so they don’t take pity on people they kill. It enables you to do the work of defending someone no matter what you know they’re guilty of. I think you would do well to tap into that right now. Alexi Romanov is no angel, but he is a rich criminal.”
“Understood,” she said.
“Now,” James said, becoming more businesslike than usual. “This going to be a different one for you… and it’s going to be one for the books.”
“How so?”
“Mr. Romanov has agreed to meet with one of our partners – you – to discuss his problems. The difficulty is that because of his traveling business status he falls into some pretty murky waters as far extradition goes. He can’t be released from the Russian Embassy and his money has made certain that his trial – more of a hearing really – takes place at the embassy rather than back home in Mother Russia. It’s as close to a fair trial as he’s going to get. The judge is one of the Supreme Court Judges from the Russian Federation and he’ll be arriving this afternoon and the hearing begins tonight. That gives you a car ride from here to Washington to get yourself organized and from the time you arrive to tonight to get a game plan together with your new client.”
“I thought it was just a meeting?”
James smirked. “I’m confident you’ll have Mr. Romanov as a client within an hour of arriving. Russians play hardball in everything and you know the rules of that game. That’s why I’m sending you. Normally Mr. Romanov would have been extricated back home and the court would almost certainly have been rigged against him. But because he has business contacts here that do major financial work over there, the Russian Judiciary agreed to hold the trial here with American oversight.”
