Three under the Mistletoe: A Christmas Menage Romance (Christmas Billionaire Menage Series Book 1)

by Tia Siren

  The guard went away and didn't appear again. The gate swung open, and Pavel drove up to the house. It was a large house set in it's own grounds. A tall man opened the door.

  ''I'm Stephan Rasmussen, the guard told me you have come on behalf of Mr Volkov.''

  ''Yes sir. My name is Pavel Belyakov. Mr. Volkov asked me to come and have a word with you about the property deal.''

  ''I told Mr Volkov that his offer wasn't good enough, I was expecting him to improve it or tell me he no longer wanted to buy the property.''

  ''Mr. Rasmussen, do you think I could come in for a minute and explain to you Mr Volkov's position.''

  Rasmussen motioned with his arm for Pavel to enter the house, and he did so. Inside it smelled of fresh bread, and it made Pavel's stomach rumble. He hadn't eaten since breakfast, and it was now seven in the evening.

  ''Please sit down, Pavel,'' Rasmussen said when they had entered the sitting room. Pavel sat on the couch and Rasmussen on an armchair. The room was cozy, and Pavel noticed pictures of young children on the mantle above the fireplace. ''How can I help you,'' Rasmussen continued.

  ''I have come to break your legs and frighten your wife and children so much, they will convince you to do anything I ask,'' Pavel said.

  Rasmussen jumped up. ''What? I'm calling the police.''

  ''Please sit down, Mr. Rasmussen. That was supposed to be the reason for my visit. I have decided on a change of strategy.''

  Rasmussen sat back down and looked at Pavel. ''What the hell are you talking about?''

  ''There is a beautiful smell of bread here and from that, I deduce that your wife is at home.''

  ''Yes she is, but leave her out of this. I don't trust you.''

  ''Please bring her here. I promise I will not move from this sofa. I want to tell you both something.''

  Rasmussen got up, walked to the door and called for his wife. After a minute, a beautiful woman appeared. She had dark hair, round eyes and a kind face. ''Stefan, what is it? I'm right in the middle of....'' She stopped in mid sentence when she saw their guest. ''Hello. Sorry, I didn't see you sitting there,'' she said as she walked to Pavel and shook his hand.

  ''Sit down my love, Mr. Beljakov has come to tell us something, although I have no idea what.''

  Pavel waited until she was sitting. ''As I explained to your husband, the original reason for my visit this evening was to physically hurt your husband, and frighten you and your children.'' Mrs. Rasmussen put her hand to her mouth and looked at her husband.

  ''It's okay, I think he means well, although I wish he would get to the point.''

  ''The point is: in the past, I worked for Mr. Abram Volkov in the real estate business. I was his henchman.'' Mrs. Rasmussen gasped and moved closer to Stefan. ''Mr. Abram does not do business fairly. He frightens people into selling their properties to him a lower prices than the market value. In the past, it was me who frightened the people on his behalf. Now I have my own business, and I do not use scare tactics.'' He looked at the Rasmussen's and noted how intently they were listening to him. ''I am very ashamed of myself for some of the things I have done, but today it all stops. I promised Mr. Volkov I would do one more job for him, and that was to frighten you two. I understand you were in negotiations with him for the sale of an apartment block in Manhattan?''

  ''Yes. My wife's mother has recently died and left us Norfolk Towers. It's got one hundred and twenty apartments. I am an industrialist, I run factories, and my wife is a dentist.'' He looked lovingly at his wife, before continuing. ''We have no understanding of real estate, and we decided to sell the building. Mr. Volkov contacted our agent, and we had a meeting, during which we both took a dislike to him and his offer.''

  Pavel nodded, I understand. ''As I have explained I was sent here to persuade you to sell to him. Mr. Volkov is a very dangerous man and a very bad man. I believe he will send someone else to persuade you, once he realizes what I have done. I would, therefore, advise you to go to the police and tell them he is threatening you. Please do so for you own sake.''

  Mr. and Mrs. Rasmussen looked at each other dumbfounded. ''Thank you Mr. Beljakov. We will do so, and we will have Mr. Volkov spoken to. Fortunately, my wife's brother is well placed to deal with this matter on our behalf. He is district attorney.''

  ''Excellent. Then I will be off. I am sorry I have ruined your evening, but I wanted to warn you who you are dealing with.''

  ''Thank you,'' Mrs. Rasmussen said. ''Please wait here.'' She got up and left the room.

  ''Do you want to buy it?'' Stefan asked.

  ''I would be very interested in making you a reasonable offer. One to our mutual satisfaction. Perhaps I can ask my secretary so set up a meeting with you and your agent.''

  ''Alright. I will do so.''

  Mrs. Rasmussen reappeared holding a parcel. ''Here, please take this. Fresh bread. It's much better for you than all the rubbish they sell in the stores.''

  Pavel looked at her and noted how lucky Stefan was to have landed himself such a beautiful and intelligent wife.

  *****

  Ella stepped into the bath in Pavel's house and submerged herself in the warm water. It was a large bath, and she could almost swim in it. When she bobbed back up again, she opened her eyes and looked at her belly. In her fourth month, it was swollen, and she loved how it looked. Her breasts were also bigger and tender to the touch. She loved the changes her body were going through, if only the morning sickness would stop.

  When she was finished, she got out, dried herself and put on a soft white robe. She walked into the bedroom and lay on the bed. She had never known such luxury. The bed was bigger than her bedroom at her parent's, and the bedroom was almost bigger than their whole apartment. She felt so lucky. She was pregnant by a man she loved and who loved her. Unlike most of her friends, she wouldn't have to worry about money.

  She was just dozing off when the phone rang. She picked it up, hoping it would be Pavel. He should have been back half an hour ago.

  ''Hello,'' she said. There was a long silence. ''Hello.''

  ''So he does have a bitch,'' the person at the other end said. He hung up.

  Ella began to shake as she realized what the man had said. She instinctively put her hands to her belly in an act of protection. Where was Pavel, she thought. Five minutes later she breathed as sigh of relief when she heard the front door.

  *****

  ''How was your flight?'' Ella asked the father of her child.

  ''Long and uncomfortable,'' he replied.

  ''So why was it so uncomfortable?''

  ''Firstly, because you weren't with me and secondly, a toy elephant kept poking me in the leg. Really, I'll have to have a word with the guys that load the plane with the stuff for the orphanage. They forgot to leave room for me this time.''

  ''Well you usually don't fly with all the toys, I suppose they forgot. Please Pavel, be careful, I am worried sick about you. I can't sleep for worry.''

  ''You know what we discussed. You will be safe at your parents'' Stay there until I come for you. I'm sorry you are involved in this, but nobody threatens the woman I love. I will put an end to in once and for all.''

  ''Oh my God, please don't do anything stupid and get yourself killed. I couldn't bear to lose.......''

  ''Ella, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen. I will be back in a few days. Get some sleep and look after our child.''

  Pavel put the cellphone back in his pocket and walked out of the airport.

  ''Hello Pavel,'' Lilia said, holding a broom in her hand.

  ''Lilia, come here,'' Pavel said as he held out his arms. He hugged the sixty-three-year-old woman who looked after his apartment in his home town of Sochi. ''Thank you for looking after the place. It's a long time since I have been here.''

  ''It's my pleasure, and it's so nice to see you. I have stocked the fridge and made the bed.''

  When Lilia left, Pavel looked around. He'd kept the small apartment he'd managed to buy after he'd left the army. He took a
photo from the sideboard and looked at it. It was taken in Chechnya. Abram was in the middle, in his officers uniform and Pavel, and a few comrades were huddled around him. Pavel didn't want to remember his time there. It had been the most brutal of wars, and he'd considered himself lucky to escape with his life. Unlike a lot of his comrades, he'd been able to come home. His thoughts turned to Nikolai. Now he was going to avenge his unnecessary death.

  Pavel showered and drank some coffee. When the taxi arrived, he was sitting on the wall in the street outside his apartment. He'd gone out early to get a feel for the place. It hadn't changed much at all. Everyone still hung their washing from wires on their balconies and the kids still rode around on rusty old bicycles.

  The taxi, a battered Lada, arrived and took him to Gagarina Street, block 18. He got out and looked up at the dilapidated balconies. Some of them had been repaired and some of them looked as thought they were ready to fall down. He went into the building and climbed to the third floor.

  ''Katya,'' he exclaimed when the old woman opened the door.

  ''Pavel, my dear boy. How long it is since I saw you, How are you?''

  ''I'm really well. How are you?''

  ''Come in and I will give you a long list of my ailments,'' she chuckled. Inside it was a typical Russian apartment. A small corridor with a kitchen to the right and a living room to the left. At the end a bathroom and a single bedroom.

  ''This apartment hasn't changed at all,'' he remarked.

  ''No. I wanted to renovate it, but I only have a small pension. Now I'm too old to bother,'' she said as she showed him into the tiny sitting room.

  ''Please Katya, sit down. I'm afraid my visit today is not going to be a pleasant one.''

  Katya was in her eighties and just five feet two. She had curly gray hair and for her age remarkably fresh looking skin. She was dressed in a flowery summer dress. Outside it was thirty-two degrees and inside the stuffy apartment, not much cooler.

  Katya instinctively put her hands up in the air when Pavel pulled out a hand gun and pointed it at her. ''I am sorry to have to do this Katya. But your son is a disgrace. He is one of the richest people in New York, and he's left you living in this hovel. I need him to come home and see what he has done, and there's only one way to do that.''

  ''Why are you pointing a gun at me and why are you talking so badly about my boy. He's a good boy.''

  Pavel ignored her and pulled out his cellphone. When he got up and put the gun to her head, Katja closed her eyes. Pavel dialed the number and waited.

  ''Hello,'' Abram said.

  ''Abram, Abram, there's a man here and he's going to kill me. Please help me,'' Katya cried into the phone.

  ''Abram, you've got two days to get your ugly ass back to Sochi or your mother gets a bullet,'' he said. He put the phone down.

  *****

  ''And what the hell do you want?'' he man said as he looked through the peephole in the wooden door.

  ''My name is Pavel Beljakov. I'm an old comrade of Dimitry's brother, Nikolai.''

  ''So what, what do you want?''

  ''I want to speak to him about his brother.''

  ''Wait,'' the man said. Pavel was standing outside what looked like a Hacienda. It had high walls on all sides, and they were finished off with red tiles. After a couple of minutes, the maroon door opened, and Pavel saw a man holding a Kalashnikov. He was just about the largest man Pavel had ever seen. ''Follow me,'' he said.

  Behind the walls, there was a magnificent ranch house, with white walls, a veranda and red roof tiles. The man showed Pavel inside. They walked to a central courtyard and through a door into a sitting room. Pavel had never seen so many cushions on the giant sofa, and he had certainly never seen a stag as big as the one that hung from the wall above the fireplace.

  ''Mr Beljakov, please take a seat, I'm Dimitry Ilyin. You wanted to talk about my brother?'

  Pavel sat down on the sofa and looked at him. He was about the same size as his brother had been, six five. He also had blonde hair and blue eyes just like Nikolai.

  ''I know what happened to Nikolai,'' Pavel said.

  Dimitry sat down in an arm chair opposite him. ''I'm listening?''

  ''Before I begin can you perhaps tell me what you thought had happened to Nikolai?''

  ''All I know is that he didn't come back from Chechnya. His commanding officer Abram Volkov told me he had died at the hands of Chechen rebels when he'd become detached from his unit.''

  ''It's not true.''

  ''How do you know and who the hell are you?''

  ''I served with him in the 2nd Battalion.''

  ''Then tell me what happened to him?''

  ''Please remain calm when I tell you this.'' Dimitry nodded. ''He was shot by Abram Volkov.''

  ''What? How the hell do you know?'' Dimitry said as he jumped from his chair with his fists clenched.

  ''Nikolai was with me and some other comrades. It was the last night before we were due to leave for home. He and Abram were playing cards, and they were both pretty drunk.'' Pavel looked at Dimitry and thought he saw a tear in his eye. ''The sums they were betting were getting out of hand, and we told them to stop, but they didn't listen. Abram accused Nikolai of cheating and Nikolai got up and slugged him. He knocked him across the room, and Abram lost a tooth. Abram reached for his pistol and shot him. Just like that. No warning, nothing.''

  Dimitry let out a roar that hurts Pavel's ears. ''And why did you keep silent about it for so many years?''

  ''We were all young and scared. Abram was well connected in the army and at home. He had some pretty powerful friends. It was brushed under the carpet, and we all went about rebuilding out lives.''

  ''Are you telling me, that but for Abram Volkov, my brother would have been alive today?''

  ''Yes, as I said it, was the evening before we were due to travel home.''

  Dmitri got up and walked to a cabinet in the corner of the room. When he opened it, Pavel saw an arsenal of weapons he didn't like the look of. ''One more question before I make preparations to blow his head off. Why should I believe you?''

  ''Please come with me, if you would be so kind,'' Pavel said as he stood up and headed for the door. They crossed the courtyard again, and Dimitry nodded to the man to open the door. When they were on the street, Dimitry saw two men leaning against his wall. ''Alexander, Sergei, come over here,'' Pavel shouted. The two men dropped their cigarettes and stamped on them. ''Would you please tell this man who killed Nikolai.''

  ''Abram Volkov,'' they said in unison.

  Pavel handed Dimitry a note. He looked at it. ''What is this?'' he said.

  The address at which you will find Abram Volkov. He is on his way over from the USA. Please give him a day or so. And if I may make one request.'' Dimitry nodded. ''Please do not harm Katya, his mother.''

  *****

  ''Pavel thank you for all you have done for my parents,'' Ella said. ''They are proud people, and they took so much persuading to move, I can't tell you. But their house is just right. Detached, not too big. Dad can't get enough of the yard and Mom loves the neighbors. I'll never be able to repay you.''

  ''You already have,'' he said as he looked down at their tiny daughter.

  *****

  THE END

  The Russian’s Secret Love Child – Octavia’s Story

  A BWWM Russian Romance

  ''Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen,'' the Russian Ambassador to the United States began. ''I am honored to welcome you to the Russian Embassy this evening.” The Ambassador glanced at his most special guests. “I am particularly pleased to be able to welcome you, Mr. President and your lovely daughter, Octavia.''

  The President of the US, Daniel Wahlberg, nodded in recognition as the Ambassador continued. ''I am very grateful to you for your support in the initiative our two great countries have embarked upon together. As you all know, terrorism is the number one threat to civilization in modern times. That is why, it is so important that we have managed to agree on terms
to set up the Russian - US Initiative to Prevent Nuclear Terrorism. Now I am sure you don't want to hear me talking all evening, so I would just like to say, I hope you enjoy yourselves this evening.''

  The Ambassador climbed down from the podium in the Russian Embassy in Washington DC and gratefully accepted a glass of champagne from a waiter.

  ''Mr. President, as I said in my speech, thank you for attending this evening.''

  ''Not at all, it is a magnificent initiative that deserves my support. If a terrorist got hold of one of these weapons, it would be the greatest disaster that has ever befallen us.''

  Daniel Wahlberg looked at the Ambassador. He didn't like or trust him, but the President was an experienced politician who made everyone feel they were his friend. Stanislav Kuklov was a big man. Probably six feet two and very broad. He had a round face with a scar down his right cheek. His eyes were particularly noticeable because they were gray or very faintly blue if one was being polite. Unlike the President, he had a full head of black hair and sun-tanned skin.

  ''Mr. President, may I introduce you to my son, Slava. He's over here on vacation.''

  ''It's nice to meet you, Slava,'' the President said, as he shook the young man's hand.

  ''The pleasure is mine, sir,'' Slava replied.

  ''Have you met my daughter, Octavia?'' he said looking at his twenty-year-old daughter.

  ''No sir, I have not. It is a pleasure to meet you too Octavia,'' Slava said as he lifted Octavia's hand and kissed it.

  Octavia laughed at the manner of his greeting; she thought it old-fashioned but extremely quaint. ''I can see you are a perfect gentleman,'' she replied, referring to the hand kissing.

  ''Ah, where I am from, that is quite normal.''

  ''Mr. President, shall we leave these two young people to chat? I would like to talk to you about a matter that has been on my mind for some time.'' The President nodded and Slava and Octavia found themselves standing alone.

  ''If I may say so Octavia, you look quite stunning this evening. I have of course seen many photos of you in the press, but in real you are even more beautiful.''

  Octavia looked at him before she replied. He was her age, around twenty, tall and dark, like his father. Unlike his father, Slava was handsome. She took an instant liking to his relaxed manner and blue eyes. When he smiled, it made her want to giggle, like a school girl.