by Tia Siren
Again the President drew breath. ''I understand. Maybe if we had all talked about this in the first place, we would have been able to work something out. I am first and foremost worried about her safety. It's a dangerous world, and somebody could quite easily kidnap her. I ask you to think of the consequences of that.''
''Sir, I have done, and I understand.''
Octavia decided to intervene when she noticed her father's voice change tone. It had taken on a more conciliatory tone, one that he used when he wanted to reach an agreement.
''Dad, what we are saying is give us a chance. Both of us have enough money, and we have a home. I don't want to be part of the political world. I'm artistic, and I want to write. Slava wants to sail and design yachts. We're not dropping out. We're just following what we really want to do.'' She paused and decided she would tell him. ''I'm having a baby Dad. You and Mum are going to be grandparents.''
The President was torn between congratulating her and flying into a rage. ''That's great, honey,'' he said. ''Listen how about we make a compromise. Come home with Slava, just for a few days if you like. Come and talk to us. Tell us what you want, and I promise I'll support you in any way I can.''
''No tricks?'' Octavia said suspiciously
''None at all. Come home, talk to us and if you want, go off again on your boat. But one thing I will not budge on, is the security aspect. We'll talk about that at the time, though.''
Octavia looked at Slava, and he nodded. ''Okay sir. Octavia will come home for a few days, and I'll join her when I can.'' When the President had gone, Octavia was angry with Slava. ''What do you mean? I'm not going anywhere without you.''
''Listen to me. My father will have you killed. I am convinced of it, after the visit we had. The last thing he wants is to see is me marry an American. He hates Americans and everything they stand for.''
''Jesus. Do you really think he'd......'' she stopped in mid sentence as he nodded. ''And how the hell would he kill me? You heard Dad; he wants to help us with security. Your father would never get near us.''
''Did you see how they murdered Andrey Yevchenko? They put poison in a cup of tea. Or what about Yuri Davydov? They stuck the poisonous umbrella into his ass when he was walking across London Bridge. There are so many examples where good people have been murdered, and nobody noticed the killer.'' He looked at her, and the distress in her eyes, and he decided there and then he was going solve the situation. ''Listen, I want you to go back to your parents. They are good people; they will let you do as you want once it all been discussed. I'm going to St Petersberg.''
''No you mustn't, what if I never see you again?'' Octavia said, now more worried than ever.
''I need a few days there. I will have my father returned to Russia in disgrace, and we will be able to get on with our lives.''
''And how do you propose to do that?''
*****
Slava sat in an office overlooking the River Neva in St Petersberg and looked at the young man in front of him.
''Slava, it's so good to see you. We haven't seen each other since graduation day at school. How are you?''
''Igor, I am very well. There are things happening in my life now that are so fantastic; I can't begin to tell you.''
''You must. How about dinner this evening?'' Igor asked. Igor Krasnoyarsk was born on the same day and in the same year as Slava. They went to school together and had been inseparable friends. As often happens, their lives took them separate ways. Igor went to work as a trainee journalist in St Petersberg and Slava to University in Moscow.
''You know why I'm here, don't you Igor?'' Slav said, in a somber tone of voice. Igor was just five feet five but handsome with his dark hair and blue eyes.
''Yes, it's time isn't it?''
Slava nodded. ''Yes it's time. The day has arrived, as I knew it always would. He has to be stopped. My mother is exhausted by his regular beatings, everyone who works for him is afraid of him, and now he has turned on me.''
''Okay, I understand,'' Igor said as he stroked his stubble. ''How do you want to proceed?''
Slava laughed. ''You're the investigative journalist. I thought you might tell me. But as you ask, here are the names and addresses of five people who can bear witness against him.''
''Do you think they would testify against him. Wouldn't they be scared?'' Igor asked.
''They will be scared, but they are old now and have little to lose. I will provide them all with the necessary security. And besides, the State Security Service won't protect my father once the accusations come out. They'll drop him like a piece of hot coal.''
''Alright, I'll go and interview them all. What about other evidence?''
''I have a weapon, which the witnesses say was used at the time and I have a shirt.''
''A shirt?''
''Yes, the one worn at the time. It's got blood on it.''
''Great. How did you come across these articles?''
''They were sent to me by an old woman called Petrova Abdulova. I also have the letter she wrote at the time.'' Slava placed a bag on Igor's desk. ''All the things you need are inside the bag. I know you will do me proud, Igor. Thank you for your friendship over the years, and I do hope our paths will cross a bit more often that they have in the last couple of years.''
''Let's chat about old times this evening. I'll pick you up at your hotel at seven.''
*****
''Octavia, oh Octavia'' her mother cried as the bullet proof limousine, dropped her outside the White House. ''What have you been up to, we were worried sick about you. Promise me never to run away like that again.''
Octavia didn't say anything. She looked at her mother, the First Lady. A woman of average height and above average looks. A brunette, not a hair out of place, she had married Octavia's father when she was just nineteen. She was more popular than her husband among the public, because she was always on TV raising funds for children. ''Your father has canceled all his appointments this afternoon. We're going to sit down and have a nice chat.''
Octavia hoped the 'nice chat' didn't turn into a monolog lecture. She went up to their apartment and into her room. It was predominately white and full of cuddly toys that well-wishers had sent her at various points during her life. The journey from London had tired her, and she undressed, had a shower and slipped under the sheets. She woke when her mother called her at around three pm.
''Octavia,'' her father exclaimed. ''It so lovely to see you. Come here.'' He took his daughter in his arms and hugged her. She was surprised how warm he was towards her. They were in the sitting room in the Presidential Suit in the White House. It wasn't a large room; it was cozy. There was a large round window in one wall, and double doors in the other wall leading to the rest of the suit. There were two sofas, opposite each other and a glass table between them. Octavia's father sat next to her mother with Octavia opposite them.
''Your mother and I are so happy that you are having a baby. We're really proud of you, and we want to tell you we will give you all the support you need throughout your pregnancy. If you think Slava will be a good father, and you love him, we will support both of you equally.'' He looked at his wife who nodded in agreement. ''Where we do have a concern, is with you traveling around unprotected.''
''Mum, Dad,'' Octavia began. ''I hate Harvard and law. I want to be a writer. I want it so much I was prepared to run away from you. Slava and I have found a way to make our dreams happen. He wants to sail, and I want to write. That's what we'll do. Live on his boat and follow our dreams.''
''Alright, if that's what you want. What about your baby. He or she will have to go to school one day,'' the President asked.
''Of course, and we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. For now, we have our plan, and we're going to follow it.''
''Okay then. Now we understand what you want we can support you. Why didn't you tell us you were so unhappy at Harvard?'' her mother asked.
''Because I was worried what you
would think. I could see the headlines. President's daughter drops out.''
''Leave the press to me. When I'm finished with them, they won't dare to mention you anymore,'' her father said.
*****
As he was about to leave for the airport, Slava's phone bleeped. It was an Email. He opened it and read:
Hi Slava, please find attached the first in the series of articles. I hope you like it.
Igor.
Slava clicked on the attachment and began to read.
St Petersberg 2015
Night of Knives - The First In A Series of Articles About The Unsolved Murder of A Woman.
She was a woman in her forties. A woman to whom life had not been at all kind. Neighbors remember her as being slight and extremely pretty. What stood out most, though, to those that are able to recall her, was her kindness. She was willing to help anybody and regularly looked after some of the older women in the street. The street where she lived was a just like most of the other residential streets in St Petersberg, apartment buildings, and play areas. It was a close-knit neighborhood, where people knew each other and took an interest in each other.
You could be forgiven for thinking that the woman in question worked in a local factory or shop, but you would be wrong. Illona Kuklov was a prostitute. On the night of thirteen January 1985, it was bitterly cold, and she had just let her last client of the day out of her apartment. Somewhere around ten pm, there was a scream. It was a scream that makes those I have interviewed about the incident, still have sleepless nights.
When neighbors rushed to her apartment, they found Illona struggling for breath in a pool of her own blood. She had been repeatedly stabbed, and the weapon was still poking from her chest. Illona's murder has remained unsolved ever since, but it shouldn't have. There is more than enough evidence to bring the murderer to trail. Several witnesses, a murder weapon, and a shirt are all pieces of vital evidence that have been ignored by investigators.
This newspaper has uncovered the truth about this gruesome murder, and we are able to reveal exclusively, that the chief suspect in the murder is Stanislv Kuklov, Illona's son. He is better known today as the Russian Ambassador to the United States of America.
Follow each day this week as we exclusively reveal how this man has avoided arrest for so many years and what can now be done to bring him to trial.
Slava shut his phone and smiled to himself as his plane took off towards New York.
*****
''But how do I hold her,'' Slav said as he looked at the tiny bundle in his arms.
''Oh I can see you've got a lot to learn,'' Octavia said as she walked up the gangplank on Serene. ''Bottle feeding and diaper changes, you can learn the lot.''
''Octavia. Come here please,'' he said. As he put his arm around her, he kissed her. ''You have made me so a happy, I can't tell you. She is so beautiful. I'm afraid I will never be able to give her away to another man like your father did on our wedding day.''
''You will if he's as good a man as you,'' Octavia said.
*****
Later that day Slava received a text message from Igor.
''Judge says he's an animal. Gave him thirty-five years.''
*****
THE END
The Rockstar’s Love Child – A BWWM Billionaire Pregnancy Romance
“Lela, why aren’t you taking this more seriously?!” Liddy was already working on her makeup for the show, and I had barely decided if I was going to go.
“It’s just a concert, with a bunch of loud girls screaming. I’m pretty sure that wearing a slutty skirt and layers of makeup won’t help me enjoy the concert more.”
I still slipped into the skirt, though. I thought I looked good in it, and I think Liddy felt the same way.
“That look is perfect for you. I wish I had your model figure.”
I gave her a sheepish look. More people have told me that I’m lucky for my figure, but just as many people have told me to eat more. I think I eat too much, honestly.
“Thanks,” I replied, “why are you tryin’ so hard to look good for this, I’ve never seen you work so hard before a concert.”
She gave me a half smile and a wink.
“I may have a little surprise for after the show.”
I rolled my eyes, the last time she said she had a surprise I was stuck driving her while she had awkward sex in the backseat.
“I hope this time your underwear stays on,” I said.
“Trust me, this time, neither of us will be wearing anything afterward.”
She bit her lip.
I didn’t talk much after that, but the ideas I had about what she wanted to do after the show were mortifying. She was the kind of person that was interested in driving to Mexico at two in the morning.
It really didn’t take long for me to get ready, and soon enough we were in a cab with three of our other friends headed toward the show.
‘The Sell-outs’ were the newest and most popular rock band, and their tickets sold out in minutes. I was actually surprised that Liddy managed to get tickets.
Even more surprising is how good the seats were, not that anyone ever really sat in their seats at these concerts. I figured that would be best explained later.
When they began the entire audience lit up, screaming and dancing, some even began to sing along off-key. I didn’t mind, though, I just enjoyed the music and danced along.
The four members of the band played so hard that they started taking their shirts off part way through the show. And, when the lead singer Aiden threw his shirt to the crowd, I thought there would be a riot.
For some reason it felt like he made eye contact with me a few times, perhaps it was how close we were seated towards the stage, or it might even be that Liddy felt the need to flash the singer a few times. But, to me, it felt like a moment, and before too long the concert was over and the moment had passed. I could already feel sick thinking about the hangover I would probably have tomorrow morning.
However, as everyone filed out of the stadium, Liddy grabbed me by the arm. She gave me a wink, and with that, I could tell that this night might only be getting started. Pushing past the exiting crowd, we found ourselves standing in front of two of the beefiest men I’d ever seen in person.
“Passes?”
The larger one asked. Liddy reached into her small handbag and held out two ID badges, and after a quick look, the guard ushered us toward backstage.
I’d never been backstage at a concert before, and the suspense was getting to me. My hands were starting to sweat, and I could feel myself getting a little dizzy when I looked around. But, Liddy kept pulling me along on this ride, and I just followed.
Walking through busy corridors and hallways, even a staircase or two, Liddy kept flashing her badges and would be met with people pointing one direction or another. Before long we had found the holy-grail, the coveted green room where the band was enjoying some much-needed refreshment.
2.
It wasn’t a terribly large room, but it was large enough for the band and a few other girls to wander around. Along the far side sat a table, covered in drinks and food. A couple of couches and chairs occupied the center of the room where the band sat, as well as most of their female company. The longest wall had a large balcony stretching out towards the stadium field. A few roadies, drinks in hand, were chatting with a couple of the other girls on the balcony.
Liddy shot from my grasp as soon as she made contact. This was her element; she always was a bit of an attention hog. I never minded at all. I wasn’t interested in being stared at by a bunch of gawkers, but she was a professional.
“Lela, get over here!”
She waved at me, attempting to bring me in closer but I just waved her off and made for the table in the back. All that dancing had me feeling relaxed but too drained. I could already tell that my muscles would be regretting my workout from tonight.
I put together a small pla
te of snacks, as well as some water, and sauntered off to the balcony. It was quite a nice night actually; the cool air off the water staunched the summer heat.
As I stood, leaning against the railing, it became a bit lonely as the couples filtered back inside, leaving me to my thoughts.
I couldn’t help but feel like I was wasting the gift from my friend. She probably worked hard to get these passes, and here I was just leaning against a railing eating meager snack foods. I peeked on Liddy; she was laughing and chatting with the lead singer.
I had to admit, I did think Aiden was gorgeous. His long blond hair was tied back behind his head, and it showed off his sharp, and high, cheek bones. Being a rock singer, he definitely took care of himself, and while he was quite skinny, it looked like he still enjoyed his time at the gym.
He was out of my league; he was only really paying attention to the fairer skinned girls at the party, so I could tell right away that his eye wouldn’t stray too far my direction.
Still, as imaginative as I was, I tried my best to tamp down any thoughts of Aiden coming my way. Besides, Liddy was more interested anyway, it would probably be best that she is given the opportunity of a lifetime.
“Excuse me, is this balcony taken?”
The voice sounded familiar, I turned my neck and saw him standing there, long hair and all.
“Err… um … no. It’s open to everyone,” I squeaked out.
I turned back to my empty plate of snacks, but now I couldn’t remember what I had just been thinking about.
“Lovely night,” he said.
I nodded, trying to hide my excitement.
“You’re missing out on the party, were you planning on staying out here all night?”
I nodded again.
“You certainly are a woman of few words,” he laughed.
I smiled and giggled to myself a bit.
