The Prize

by Vanessa Fewings

  “Why didn’t your mom want her to look after you instead of your uncle?”

  “My grandmother was a photojournalist. Lots of traveling. I’d have slowed her down.” He threw in an admiring smile. “She wrote to me. I wrote back. I bet the letters are here somewhere.”

  “Looks like adventure runs in your blood.”

  “You might be right.”

  “She sounds amazing. We could go through these together?” I peeked into one and ran my fingers over the records. “There’s a first edition Beatles LP. Look, it’s Sergeant Pepper. It’s probably worth something.” Then I remembered who I was talking with. “It has sentimental value.”

  “There’s a record player over there.”

  “What’s that?” I pointed to the video cassette near his feet.

  “It’s a video of a birthday party I had in the garden here.”

  “Your party?”

  “That’s what it says. Though it could have been recorded over.”

  “Shall we watch it?” I tried to read how he felt about finding it.

  “If you like.” He blew out a wary breath and looked over at me.

  I stepped cautiously across the attic. “Look, there’s a Sony player, we can watch it on this.” I picked it up. “Can I help up here?”

  He brushed dust off his trousers. “I’d love a cup of tea.”

  “I knew I’d convert you.”

  He beamed at me and guarded his head as he rose to avoid the low beams.

  We brought down the Sony player into the main house along with the tape. While Tobias worked on setting up the ’80s cassette player in the sitting room, I made us tea and brought in our sandwiches. We huddled close on the sofa. It was nice being this close to him, and I sighed contentedly as I sipped my mug of tea.

  “The footage has probably degraded,” he warned.

  There came the flickering color image of a garden and I recognized it as this one. The camera scanned over the partygoers wearing paper hats and settled on a three-tiered cake on a table decorated with party favors. A young boy sat behind the table wearing a paper hat and waved at the camera. It was Tobias; I recognized his sweet face, those big green eyes full of wonder and his innocence shining brightly. There was a beautiful woman beside him who I recognized as his mom from the photos I’d seen. She was wearing a summer dress and her face lit up with joy when she talked to Tobias. A dashing man stepped into the frame and he had a French accent and from the way he hugged Tobias with pride it was obviously his dad. This footage was sacred and I knew it must hurt him to see it.

  “Did your grandmother film this?” I gave him a comforting smile.

  Tobias swallowed his uneasiness. “Yes.”

  “Your mom’s beautiful.” She was enigmatic and had his smile. The camera panned to another dashing man watching them with fondness. “Is that your uncle?”

  “That’s Fabienne.” Tobias gave a nod. “I should call him.”

  “You look just like your dad.”

  He really did with that charismatic smile and a sharp intelligence exuding through his eyes sparkling with joy.

  Tobias blew out a stream of air as though that alone would help him hold back on showing emotion. Laughter and cheers came from the screen as his dad handed Tobias his wrapped birthday present.

  His mum beamed at the camera and said, He’s going to open it and then blow out the candles.

  My face flushed with the thought that this could be like us one day, filming our child’s birthday party, and I let out a sigh of wonder at their shared happiness.

  His parents looked cute together.

  I sensed Tobias’s disquiet and threw him a concerned glance. If I found this footage moving, then he must be spinning.

  “You were adorable,” I whispered. “See how your mom looks at you. See how loved you are.”

  “Were.”

  I ignored his correction. “They’re watching over you. Keeping you safe.”

  Tobias gave me a look of discomfort and I recognized the pain he carried. My gaze went back to the screen. This felt like the first time I’d gotten to share a sacred piece of Wilder’s past.

  And then I realized—

  There are nine candles.

  “Tobias, this was your ninth birthday?” I swallowed hard as my gaze snapped back to see the way he stared at the screen. “Oh, Tobias.”

  “Three months later they were gone.” He flicked the remote and the screen went blank. He rose to his feet. “Do you want me to put a movie on for you?”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “I knew what was on the tape.”

  “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

  “Not one of my better decisions.” He shook his head as though trying to shake off the pain.

  I watched him stroll off with his head bowed. “What about your sandwich?”

  “I’ll have it later. Thank you for making it.”

  I stared at the place where he’d sat seconds ago and then turned my gaze back to the TV and my heart ached for him. This had reminded him of what he’d lost. A childhood decimated—after that crash there’d been no more Christmas mornings running into his parents’ bedroom to wake them up. No more birthdays with them to celebrate, no chance of them being at his graduation or sharing his remarkable achievements and no more love that only a mother can bring. I knew what this pain meant and it changed everything, life would always be seen through a lens of survival, with no belief in fairy tales to help you to find peace.

  I ran after him across the foyer and through the drawing room, managing to catch the door to his workshop before it locked. My hands gripped the banister when I saw him standing still in the center seemingly shaken.

  I closed the gap between us and leaned against his back, wrapping my arms around his waist, and gave a reassuring squeeze as I breathed in his familiar cologne.

  His body stiffened against mine. “I’m fine.”

  “What do you need?” And then I saw her—

  My arms slipped from his waist as I stepped back.

  She rested upon an easel and looked back at me with that mesmerizing smile—

  No, she wasn’t real. I knew this but as I made my way toward her I could see her remarkable resemblance to the original portrait and she was dazzling. Her smile, those infamous lips curling subtly yet disappearing when your eyes met hers, and when you looked down at her mouth again that smile was gone from the enigma that was Mona Lisa.

  I gazed upon this seeming living person and struggled with my conscience as I soaked in her beauty while confusion swept over me.

  Tobias walked toward her. “Forgive me father for I have sinned.”

  His words were raw with truth.

  “You’ve yet to varnish her?” My voice wavered.

  Wilder’s gaze moved over the canvas. “That’s next.”

  I wanted to say she was beautiful, enthralling even, and that she was everything that was pure and mystical as one would expect from such a talented artist.

  Tobias broke the spell. “It was her smile, wasn’t it?” He watched me watching her. “I would ask you what you think but your face tells me everything.”

  Her knowing eyes, her beautiful face created with the sfumato technique providing a flawless finish. All that was left was the varnish and she would be perfection.

  “I can’t...breathe...” I hurried away from the lie that wanted to swallow me.

  Dazed, I continued up the central staircase toward my bedroom and stripped off my clothes and left them trailing behind as I walked naked into the bathroom.

  Within the hot shower I tried to wash off these feelings of guilt that tasted like the ash of my past and the bitterness of all that was wrong with me. Wash off this misery and find a way back to my life. This agony was of my own doing, my motivation skewered because I’d reassured myself
I was doing it all to save him.

  And to save my paintings.

  I couldn’t see straight, think straight, and this disorientation swept me up into its vortex. A sob burst from me and I pressed my hand to my mouth to prevent another, terrified that if I let go I’d never pull back from breaking down. I’d been holding on for so long, stayed strong for both of us, though as my thoughts cleared I saw the end of me.

  Irrevocably lost.

  Tears melded with water and I swiped at them, tilting my face toward the stream to hold them back—

  Tobias stood inside the doorway and he was holding a towel. “I brought you this.” He offered it to me.

  My eyes flittered over to the fresh towels already in here.

  He threw it onto the countertop. “Seeing you like this... I’m so sorry, Zara.”

  This was what shock felt like—the inability to talk, or think, or know what to do next. All I knew was that art was in my blood. I’d been destined to continue the Romanov legacy, and it hurt that this was the only way.

  Tobias stepped forward. “Can I join you?”

  I watched him pull open the shower door and step in with me even though he was still fully dressed. “You hate me?”

  “I’m scared of the feelings I have for you because I don’t trust them.”

  “Trust mine.”

  I knew what he’d done was his way of finding his own pathway, setting a trap so ingenious he could bring down an empire. This wasn’t just about art or revenge or taking our lives back, this was also about us changing the fate of thousands and preventing more atrocities, but first we had to walk through hell because that was the only way to get to the other side.

  He tipped up my chin. “Is the painting that bad?”

  I let out another sob. “She’s beautiful, Tobias. That’s the problem. I didn’t really believe you’d pull it off.”

  “If this means I’m losing you I will destroy her.” He looked earnest. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Hold me.”

  He came toward me and wrapped his arms around me. I fell against his soaking wet shirt and heaved sobs against him.

  “I’ve got you.” He kissed my forehead and pulled me firmly against him, rocking me in his arms as cascading water drenched us.

  “I knew I should have gone with a Disney sketch,” he said.

  My nervous laughter failed with another sob. “She’s spectacular.”

  “This falls on me. All of it.” He crushed his lips to mine and kissed me fiercely, and I opened my mouth for him, letting him in, no less tortured by what he’d done, my chest aching with the impossibility of being part of this. I’d believed he’d fail and once he’d created her we’d both see this truth in her illusion...

  But she was everything.

  “What do you want from me?” he said. “Ask and it’s yours.”

  “You. I need you.” Because only in his arms did I know the truth; both his and mine.

  He pulled my arms above my head and pinned them to the glass and shoved his body against mine, kissing me with need as he reclaimed me, stepping back just long enough to peel off his T-shirt and kick off his shoes. His body taut and virile and powerful, all hard muscle and curling biceps, as he discarded the rest of his clothes.

  How much I had wanted him like this over the last few days and it felt like we’d waited an eternity to be together again. In his eyes I saw the truth; this time there’d be no holding back for either of us.

  He slammed his body against mine and it was the closeness I’d pined for, this longing for him so intense it equaled the air I breathed. I sighed when he reached around my back and grasped my butt to lift me upward, and swiftly positioned my legs to wrap around his waist, plunging into me with one strike and penetrating me deeply, burying himself inside me. This was what I’d yearned for—him inside me and proving there was still an us and we would survive this wreckage of what was left behind. He reached me in the heart of the storm. The only man who could silence this agony inflicted by life’s cruelty.

  His lips bruised mine, savaging me with the thrusts of his pelvis rendering me his. Each strike sent a coursing pleasure into my sex as my body trembled, nipples beaded tight and my thoughts spiraling out of control from the pleasure of seeing him just as impassioned.

  “I would never hurt you intentionally,” he soothed. “You are the air I breathe. You are the universe I belong in, the only person who matters. I’ve done this for you. I want to see peace in your heart, Zara. I need you to believe me.”

  My body weakened as I tried to focus on his words.

  “Say you believe me?”

  “Yes...” I moaned through this rising climax.

  As I locked eyes with his, staring deeply into his endless green irises, falling and falling until I was captured and then carried away by my powerful climax. Tobias’s eyelids were heavy as he stilled and moaned roughly, his heat shooting into me and sending me into the abyss of coming.

  We stayed locked together for what felt like an eternity with him inside me. I refused to be parted, my muscles clenching him tight as the ripples of bliss finally faded. This endless bond would never be enough. He was my addiction and I was willing to fight for him.

  He lifted me off himself and eased me to my feet, and my thighs trembled with their unsteadiness. Tobias pulled me into a hug and pressed his lips to the top of my head in a gesture of affection.

  He broke into a heart-stopping smile. “We always find our way back to each other.”

  Yes, destiny always ensured our souls reconnected.

  He massaged shampoo into my hair and took his time to tenderly indulge me beneath the hot shower. With my eyes closed I swooned into relaxation, savoring his fingertips roaming my scalp and lulling me into a delicious stupor.

  “Zara.” His voice was low. “We’ll find another way.”

  Burying my face against his chest, all I could do was hope we’d make it.

  “I dare to believe I’m doing my bit to balance out the evil in the world,” he said softly.

  His words sent a shiver through me.

  Together, we lowered to kneel on the tile facing each other and I rested my head on his shoulder. It was the stillness we needed and the calm my soul yearned for.

  After a few minutes he pulled away and he gave me an endearing smile of reassurance.

  Tobias kissed the end of my nose. “This is what I do.”

  Looking up at him, at his beautiful face and his kind eyes, I knew he saw what this battle was doing to me. This going against everything I believed.

  With me in his arms on the floor of the shower, he kissed me passionately again and again. I fell against him and held him to me beneath the falling water.

  After a final kiss to my forehead he rose to his feet and stared down at me. “You know I’d do anything for you.” He stepped out of the shower.

  He didn’t even bother to reach for a towel. He just left the room seemingly not caring he was naked.

  I felt the loss of him.

  I climbed to my feet and turned the shower off. After stepping out I reached for a towel and wrapped it around myself, and then the fog in my mind cleared and there came an unsettled feeling at how quickly Tobias had left—

  No, he wouldn’t...

  A flash of terror swept over me and I bolted out of the room, hurried down the stairs and sprinted across the foyer. I burst into the drawing room and almost tripped over the rug—

  Tobias was naked still and knelt before the large open fireplace. He’d rammed his portrait of Mona Lisa amongst the chopped wood in the hearth and was trying to light the fire.

  “No!” I flew toward the fireplace and reached in and grabbed the frame.

  He rose up onto his heels. “I’ll find another way.”

  “Not like this.” My hands shook as I clutched her to my chest. �
�Not by fire.”

  Flames licking at the paintings, turned around, disorientated, my heartbeat thumping violently against my rib cage as I sucked in scorched air.

  The hearth whooshed up in orange flames and exuded heat.

  Tobias pushed himself to his feet and the dampness from the shower shimmered over his body. “How, then?”

  This painting muddled everything I knew about art because as I turned her around I was staring at the face of the Mona Lisa.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I STIRRED AWAKE to the scent of waffles and freshly brewed coffee wafting into Tobias’s bedroom that I’d made my own. Stretching beneath the covers, I was caught in the twilight of waking, and the promise of seeing him teased me into consciousness.

  After pushing myself up to rest against the rosewood headboard, I wiped the sleepiness from my eyes. Tobias entered carrying in a tray stacked with two plates of waffles and two mugs balanced beside them. He strolled toward me wearing that cute grin I’d not seen for days, with his hair combed neatly, and he was alluringly dressed in a black J.Crew sweater and jeans.

  I let out a grateful sigh when he rested the tray on the bed. “Oh, look, it’s the coffee fairy.”

  “Spoiling you is my greatest pleasure.”

  My head snapped toward the dresser and I saw the painting was gone.

  Yesterday, I’d hugged that portrait after having barely saved it from the flames. Perhaps that moment would be remembered as my greatest weakness, but her beauty, her brilliance, her profound existence and the reason for it were too far-reaching. I wasn’t ready to do what had to be done.

  We’d lain in bed together last night with the Mona Lisa sitting on the dresser over there, and we’d just stared at the ceiling with the weight of her existence on our shoulders.

  Tell me she isn’t real, I’d whispered in the darkness.

  Tobias had shaken his head, proving he knew this was no small deed.

  He seemed a little calmer this morning. Offering me a mug and turning the handle for me to grasp.

  “Does she still exist?” I asked softly.

  “For now.”

  “You’ve hidden her from me?”

  “You reserve the right to change your mind.” Tobias’s knee met the mattress and it dipped as he leaned over to plant a kiss to the top of my head. “One day at a time, Zara.”