Episode 12

ALEK ROMANOVA

Leila was resplendent in her white dress, looking more angelic than ever. During the month of planning, I had been unable to see her. I tried desperately to find traces of Leila in New York, but she is like a ghost; nobody knows her. The only thing we found was her birth certificate, which only lists her mother's name. Her mother lies in a cemetery now, leaving me with nothing to know about her. The cemetery's caretaker told me a boy used to visit the grave but stopped four years ago. He claimed the boy was her deceased mother's son; hence, Leila's brother. But if she has a brother, why does she claim to be alone? I don't understand. I should have known more about her. Even when I tried to extract information from Katya Smirnov, she remained loyal to Leila and kept her secrets.

My men uncovered only that someone brought Leila to the boarding school at age ten, paying for her to have no contact with the outside world and prohibiting her from ever leaving. She was subjected to constant punishment and abuse, which fills me with rage. I still don't know who locked her away and ordered such horrendous treatment, but whoever it is will pay dearly for the harm inflicted upon her.

After the wedding and celebration, Leila and I left the venue hand in hand while a shower of white rose petals fell upon us. I'm unable to read Leila's face; whether or not she wants to be with me is uncertain. She claims she's ready and appears confident, but my fear is that she might be forcing herself. I said nothing; she is forthright enough to stop me if she truly didn't want this.

My mother and grandmother took on the task of decorating our honeymoon suite. Admitting I'm not the romantic type, I let them handle it all. When we entered, everything was perfectly adorned with red roses, candles, balloons, a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and some fruit.

"I didn't think you were such a romantic," Leila said, clearly surprised.

"Neither am I, but you know I didn't organize all this," I replied earnestly.

"I know, it must have been your mother's and grandmother's doing. You know I don't believe in love; I've never experienced it," Leila stated.

"Well, then I'll show you what passion is, since you don't believe in love," I said as I poured us two glasses and handed one to her.

"I've never allowed myself to be swept up by passion. How could I when I've never been free?" Leila remarked.

"Now, even though you're married to me, you're free to go wherever you want. So, you could say you're finally free," I noted, as we both sipped from our glasses and gazed at each other.

"Are you going to watch me all night, or are we going to do something more?" Leila challenged.

"You have no idea what I can imagine doing with your beautiful body," I advanced toward her like a predator approaching its prey. I began kissing her, gently unfastening her dress as it slowly fell to the floor, revealing her even more beautiful and alluring figure.

"Let yourself be led by me; I'll show you what passion is," I whispered into her ear, trying not to unnerve her. I lifted her in my arms and carried her to the bed, where no inch of her body was left unkissed.

She appeared slightly nervous, so I was gentle and took my time caressing and showering her with affection. As she slowly relaxed, and I heard her moan while I played with her breasts, I felt she was ready for me. I shed my clothes under her scrutinizing gaze—other virgins might have been embarrassed, but Leila was unfazed. She watched intently until I rejoined her. After more kissing and caressing, I positioned myself between her legs and entered her slowly. Her nails dug into my back as I reveled in becoming one with her. After a few moments, she relaxed again and I started to move, her moans intertwining with mine as we reached the peak of pleasure, and I held her close to my chest.

"Are you okay?" I asked as her breathing settled, assuming calm akin to mine.

"Yes, I just need a shower. I'm sweaty," Leila replied.

"Do you want to shower together, or should we fill the Jacuzzi?" I offered.

"Not today, no. I'm not used to sharing space with anyone besides Katya. Don't push me," she rose carefully from bed.

Noticing her awkward walk, I almost laughed, but with her fiery temper, she might well kill me on our wedding night. After she spent minutes in the shower, she reemerged wrapped in a robe and tucked into fresh sheets—I had already replaced the stained ones as evidence of her virginity. After my shower, donning only boxers, I joined her in bed, pulling her close to sleep with my wife.

"Hey, you're crushing me," Leila complained.

"It's fine, just sleep," I loosened my hold slightly, but she remained tense. Perhaps she wasn't used to being held, so I stroked her hair gently with one hand until I felt her body relax in my embrace. Only after she fell asleep did I allow myself to rest.

When I woke the next morning, she was no longer in my arms. After a quick shower, I found her enjoying breakfast on our room's balcony.

"I couldn't wait for you; I was really hungry, and you were still sleeping," Leila informed me.

"Don't worry about it. I usually only have juice and some bread for breakfast. I'm always so busy that I run out the door before I can eat," I said.

"Well, there's plenty of juice and bread, also fruit and jam," Leila mentioned.

"Yes, in two hours we'll head to Las Vegas. I have business to attend to, and we'll stay there for two weeks. After that, we'll go to my apartment in downtown New York. There are plenty of rooms; just tell me what you'd like to set up in one—a studio or a workshop, whatever you want, and it's yours," I said while eating a slice of toasted bread with jam.

"I want a computer lab. I need the best computers with top capabilities, a few burners, and there are some programs I'll need to buy, so I'll handle that once we're there. And only I can have access to that room," Leila requested, revealing her technological prowess, a genius. I'm married to a tech whiz.

"You'll have the best. Just promise me one thing," I stated, and she looked at me squarely.

"What's that?" Leila queried.

"That if you feel you can't accomplish your revenge, if at any point it threatens to destroy you or you might get hurt, you'll ask for my help and allow me to assist you," I said, our gazes locked unblinkingly.

"Only if I think it's necessary. Otherwise, I won't seek your help," Leila stipulated.

"I can live with that. However, before we set out, maybe you should fulfill your wifely duties while we wait," I teased, arching an eyebrow.

"You're such a pervert," she said, standing up. I took a sip of my juice, not expecting her to acquiesce, until I heard her.

"Well, are you coming or not?" Leila beckoned, and of course, I went.

Back in the room, I carried her to the bed. I wasn't overly rough, since it had only been a night since she lost her virginity, but her moans drove me wild; she was intoxicating. If not for our impending departure, I would never let her leave this room.

Following our morning tryst, we showered separately—she still refused to share—and then set out for the airport to journey to Las Vegas.

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