A Bedtime Story

by L. C. Moon

  She turned her head coquettishly to him, her eyes fiery. “Aren’t they the same?”

  “Only to the winner.”

  Her eyes bored into his, challenging him; she nodded. The deal was struck.

  He shook his head remembering their torrid affair, remembering their last night together. Tanya Malone, the one person who brought out the worst in him, to have loved him, because of it. Though he knew his father had loved him, knew Olga’s devotion to him. Tanya was the only person to ever utter the words.

  He remembered his disappointment at feeling nothing, the moment anticlimactic. He hadn’t wanted her love, had only felt contempt toward her when she finally bowed in defeat.

  He wondered if she had ever meant it. A woman like Tanya couldn’t love, he thought, though she could feel. The only thing Tanya ever loved was power, even when used against her. He realized that even in doubt, he still carried a fondness if not a repressed admiration for the fiery seductress. It didn’t matter anymore.

  He was sitting in a small private living room, leaning his head back, his eyes closed when he heard her heels clicking toward him. He opened his eyes to find her in a fancy green cocktail dress, her silky curls tied in a high ponytail. Regardless of the occasion, Tanya would always be red carpet ready. She sat in the adjacent chair as they stared at each other in a silence that said it all.

  “I told you you’d come back to me,” she finally said, her playfulness forced.

  He stared at her some more, his face weary as he returned a crestfallen smile. “You know why I’m here.”

  Her eyes glittered with bitter understanding. With a defiant smile on her lips, her voice willfully mocking, she mimicked concern. “The little puppy couldn’t handle the truth?”

  “What did you think would happen?” He leaned in on his elbows, his eyes boring into hers.

  She chuckled humorlessly, she had expected a retaliation from Kayne. Had imagined him storming in, wanting to strike her, his eyes furious, his body lashing at her. She would have gladly welcomed it. His grave attitude however unnerved her, and she felt her mask dropping.

  “I really don’t know what you see in her. What I do know is what she doesn’t see in you. If she can see what I see, the real you, all of you… and still want you... Then fine, she can have you.”

  He bobbed his head in understanding, his face somber. He then reached for her knee, gently brushing his thumb over her skin. He’d never been gentle with her. In that moment, she understood from his sweet caress what she’d done, what she brought upon herself. She closed her eyes and felt a shiver run down her spine. When she reopened them, there was no trace of malice, of wicked playfulness. For the first time in his life, Kayne faced the unguarded, uncensored, Tanya Malone.

  “Dimitri gave you the okay?” she asked, her voice low though unwavering.

  He nodded.

  She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. “Did it come from him?… Or you?”

  “Me,” he admitted, holding her gaze.

  She snorted bitterly. “Li’l pup has bite…”

  A half smirk crossed his lips. “Was she worth it? Was she worth throwing away your only friend?” he quoted back her words.

  She grinned, playing along, one last time. “Friend? We’re not friends.”

  They stared at each other in silence, a subdued smile on their lips. “How do you want it?”

  She took a deep breath. “With your hands on my body.”

  He nodded, solemn, got off the couch, and slowly made his way to her. He brushed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his eyes burning with restrained emotion.

  “I really did love you, you know?” She looked up at him, for the first time, her voice breaking.

  He nodded again, he believed her. He wrapped both his hands gently around her little neck and began applying pressure. She closed her eyes, maintaining her body as still as she could. He could feel her heart beating frantically, feel his own twist and tighten in its guarded fortress. It didn’t stop him; he’d learned to live with that feeling long ago. Just like his father before him, Kayne kept applying pressure. Until he felt the life drain from her, the woman who had loved him and, ultimately, betrayed him.

  Day-61

  Laura was in the solarium looking out the glass wall, lost in her thoughts. Kayne stood in the entrance, watching her, watching her bandaged arm rest lifelessly in her lap. She turned her head tiredly to the sounds of his footsteps. He took the seat Olga usually sat in, when she used to bring her every day. Laura realized just how much she missed it.

  “What do you want?”

  Her voice did not carry the bitterness he expected. It was the voice of the condemned to his executioner, accepting of his plight. He eyed her wearily, pulled out a small jewelry box, and placed it on the table next to her.

  “What is this?”

  “The best I can offer you,” he answered, his tone flat. “I’ll see you at supper.”

  With no other words, he exited the room. Laura eyed the box for a long time before her fingers finally reached for it. It held the most beautiful engagement ring she had ever laid eyes on. A round sapphire stood on a platinum band, surrounded with a thin layer of diamonds. It wasn’t the flashiest; it was just the perfect one, for her.

  She remembered the modest pear-shaped diamond gold band Eric had offered her. How different the two rings were. How different the men. Eric who wanted to offer her everything, even what he couldn’t afford to, had never really known her. It showed in the pear-shaped diamond he chose, the gold band he opted for, oblivious to her modest and yet exclusively white gold jewelry collection. Mostly, it became palpable when describing his love, bestowing on her flattering traits she did not possess. Not once had she corrected him. She liked the Laura he saw and worked tirelessly to maintain the illusion. She had liked the pear-shaped diamond, just because he picked it, thinking she would.

  Then her eyes reverted to Kayne’s ring. It was unfair to even compare the two. His ring was beautiful, simple, and chic. Yet it was off-puttingly cold, its design too perfect to be lovable. It was chosen by a man who clearly knew her taste, who knew her inside out, wanting to please for failure to love.

  She closed her eyes, feeling tears already glistening. How could a proposal from the man who meant everything to her be so heartbreaking? She had never, even in her wildest fantasies, thought he would propose. Let alone get down on one knee, his eyes full of hope as had been Eric’s. Kayne’s ring didn’t come with promises of love and hopes for a family. His was a cold and calculated decision, from the man who couldn’t love, to the woman who’d never bear him children. It was a trade-off. The best he could offer her. To her, it was everything. She spent the afternoon staring down the blue velvet box.

  The little box carrying her deepest desires and repressed hopes, from the man who was responsible for her brother’s death. The man she still wished would get down on one knee to propose.

  ***

  She met him for supper in drab attire, wearing no makeup to conceal the dark circles under her eyes, and no ring on her finger. His eyes set on her, but he didn’t say a word. She took the seat facing him, served herself, and held his silence.

  “Where’s your ring?” he finally inquired, anger creeping into his tone.

  She met his gaze. “Didn’t match my outfit.” She gave him a thinlipped smile.

  Kayne returned her smile, his full of threat. “Go get it.”

  “No.”

  He snapped up and was at her side in a second, pulling her out of her chair.

  “Did you somehow think you had a say in this? That it was a request?… A proposal?” he asked in a low growl, their faces inches apart.

  “Wouldn’t it be easier to just kill me?” She met his stare, her voice cool.

  He snorted sardonically, then brushed his thumb against her cheek. “It would…”

  She closed her eyes, unconsciously leaning into his hand.

  He exhaled slowly, feeling his anger dissipate despite himsel
f. “You will wear the ring. Tomorrow you will meet with Natasha. She will help with the preparations. In three weeks, we will be married.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice soft. She could feel his body heat against her, dreamed of a different conversation in her head.

  “And here I was thinking you’d be jumping for joy,” he answered with bitter sarcasm.

  “I can’t… give you children…” Her voice finally cracked.

  His eyes softened as he let go of his hold, taking a step back. “Make sure Natasha never finds out.”

  It would be the only answer she would get. She watched him leave, retreating to the upper level of the house. Did he not want children? That was a mild relief, but why was he marrying her? So you may live, answered a voice within. Which was why Natasha should never find out, to ensure Dimitri wouldn’t. He had no choice; he only did what was necessary to protect her from Dimitri. Unlike her, she thought with a twist in the heart, he didn’t have visions of a little boy. A young and beautiful boy, with her eyes and his smile, running around the house, filling its halls with laughter.

  ***

  Kayne lay awake in bed. In three weeks, he would marry Laura Spencer. He would ensure her safety with that alone. Dimitri was not happy at all when he told him, questioning him relentlessly. He had no answer for him. What could he have said? How to explain what he felt? He could never let her go, even if he wanted to. Even if he trusted she would never go to the police, and he didn’t, Dimitri wouldn’t stand for it. The cops would pursue her relentlessly, could force her to testify, even against her will, unless she was his wife. Dimitri would have her taken out the moment she stepped off Kayne’s residence, and protection. Laura Spencer was a liability. Mrs. Laura Malkin, however, would be out of reach, to everyone. He’d thought it through. Marriage was the only freedom he could ever offer her. He’d even asked Dimitri to walk her down the aisle, ensuring his public display of support, which he would be forced to uphold. He’d spoken to Natasha too, knowing her fondness for the girl, and she had delivered.

  It wouldn’t change anything, he told himself. It wouldn’t be a real marriage, just a cover, a means to an end. Yet he fumed at her reaction, at her refusal to wear the ring he had carefully selected for her. The ring he pictured on her delicate finger, smiling inwardly at the thought.

  Day-75

  Laura looked in the mirror. She couldn’t find herself in the reflection of this mysterious bride. Her hair had grown and was curled for the occasion, flowing loosely down her back. Her bangs now reached her chin, her face had slimmed, making her cheekbones more defined. Her makeup was dramatic, with smoky eye shadow enhancing her clear grey eyes. Though it wasn’t gaudy, her dress was worthy of Cinderella’s ball gown. In the true princess fashion, it had a sweetheart neckline, straps that went round the top of her arms, and crystal embellishments embroidered in the chiffon skirt. She kept staring at herself. She wanted to reach out beyond the mirror and embrace this melancholic princess, comfort her, tell her she was not alone, that she understood.

  Laura had been threatened by the makeup artist not to cry. She hadn’t. She stood alone and thought back to everything that happened leading her to this day. It was still early in the morning. Natasha had explained to her that the wedding ceremony would be held according to their tradition. Kayne and Laura would be betrothed in the morning at the Orthodox Church; the rings would be exchanged then. A crowning ceremony would follow, though no vows would be exchanged. It wasn’t a contract to be upheld until death released you of your promise. It was a solemn commitment, made in front of God, a union even death was powerless to break. The reception would be held at the Drugov residence, and the decorators had arranged the gardens for the occasion. White lanterns and veils were hung up on trees, white lights installed in the fountain and the surrounding water. Laura felt she had walked into a hazy fantasy, where only she was aware of the illusion. Everyone else just wanted to play along.

  Natasha had fussed over her. Olga even shed a few tears when she had finally stepped out in her gown. Only she would not get caught in the spell. She had barely seen Kayne in the past three weeks. Lucas drove her to meet with Natasha every day. Natasha planned, barely looking her way for an opinion. Laura understood that Natasha lived this event as the wedding she would never plan for the daughter she never had. Catching a glimpse of her maternal instinct, Laura wondered about the causes behind it, could almost picture herself standing in Natasha’s shoes one day. Laura was glad for Natasha. She doubted she would have survived the whole ordeal without her taking charge, with an iron fist, always, in a velvet glove. For the past three weeks, Laura would come home late at night, exhausted and past supper time. Olga would wait for her, then they’d sit outside together. Laura would smoke a cigarette, as Olga sipped her tea and made her recount all the detailed planning of the day. She would be too tired to speak and only dreamed of her bed but didn’t have it in her heart to disappoint Olga’s excited face. So she would tell her everything, staying up past her bedtime, only to wake the next day even more exhausted and go through it all once again.

  She had started wearing the ring the day after her last supper with Kayne, had spent countless moments staring at it, admiring its simple and elegant beauty, trying to unlock its mystery. She had somehow convinced herself this one piece of jewelry held all the secrets to Kayne Malkin’s heart. But the ring remained silent, loyal to her one true master.

  The one encounter she had with Kayne leading up to the big day had been tense. She was wearing the ring. He smiled when he noticed, but things quickly dissolved as he announced that Dimitri would be walking her down the aisle. She pled with him, begged him even, for one request, only one, for it not to be him, the man who wanted her dead. Even that simple request was sharply rejected in a tone that left no room for negotiation, nor the slightest compassion.

  Dimitri walked into the room, carefully closing the door behind him, and opened his arms, pulling a reluctant Laura into a warm embrace.

  “Laura, you look stunning! Never has a bride looked so beautiful. Now don’t go telling Natasha I said that.” He winked at her playfully.

  Laura remained guarded, smiling weakly.

  “What’s wrong? You should be happy! Has anyone troubled you?” he asked with concern.

  She couldn’t understand the man. He seemed genuine in this moment, an involved father figure. Three weeks ago, he wanted her dead.

  “I’m fine. Thank you, Mr. Drugov,” she answered, her voice subdued, her weary eyes looking down.

  “Dimitri. We’ve gone through that already,” he corrected her. “Laura, my dear, if something is wrong, you must tell me.”

  “I feel so alone,” she admitted, for lack of better words.

  His expression changed, and sounding sincere, he addressed her distress. “I understand. You have no family, no friends present. But what you have to understand is that now, you have a new family Laura. And family is everything, especially to those who have none. We look out for our own, we watch out for each other, and now you will too. Let go of the past and embrace the family that has opened its arms to you. You will never be alone.

  “I was against this marriage, I know you know. You’re no fool. But Kayne wants you. He’s made it clear, he wants you for a wife. He asked for my blessing, asked me to walk you down the aisle. I have nothing against you. I am just an old pessimistic geezer.” He smiled. “I see the worst in people. But… Kayne trusts you, so does Natasha actually. They can’t both be wrong...” He smiled again, his expression softening. “Leave Laura Spencer to her ghosts. There is a bright future awaiting Mrs. Kayne Malkin.”

  Laura remained quiet for a few minutes, taking in his words, drinking up the temptation. The same Scorsese quote came back to her mind. It would be warmer under the wing of the dragon, imagine a whole cohort, for once flying by her side, on her side. For once, not being the lone warrior facing the army. She let the sweet thought rock her in a calming daze.

  Staring
into his eyes, she gave the faintest nod, acquiescing. A dim smile crossed her lips, an echo of her visions of a dragon family protecting her, keeping her warm, the dragon king himself, Kayne Malkin, at her side. Still lost in the sweet fantasy, a smile still on her lips, she felt a little pinch in her chest, an indistinct heartache. She understood, too late, this was the price to pay, the betrayal of Laura Spencer. Laura Spencer, who was slowly, painfully dying within her, reaching out in a last cry from behind the mirror as she lay trapped by the mysterious princess who had emerged and claimed her body.

  Dimitri nodded back to her, satisfied, his stare heavy with understanding. He folded the veil over her face, offered her his arm, and led her out of the room and into the first limousine in a black procession.

  ***

  Kayne Malkin looked dashing in a black suit. With Lucas at his side as his best man, he awaited his future bride at the entrance of the church. Her heart skipped a beat when she stepped off the dark horse, taking the final steps to join herself to the bewitching Prince of Darkness waiting for her, his eyes smoldering, fixed on her. She felt a shiver run down her spine and looked at the crowded streets, noticing the bystanders stop and smile pleasantly at the grandiose ceremony taking place. She thought, for the briefest of instants, to break into a run, keep running, and never look back. But even with her face turned away, she could feel his eyes on her, exercising their influence, silently summoning her to him, their pull magnetic, their power over her, absolute.

  She climbed the few steps under his piercing gaze, her limbs pulled forward as if by a string. A priest met them at the entrance and blessed the young couple. A few prayers were recited by the priest, who then took the rings and exchanged them on the couple’s fingers three times, in symbolic homage to the Holy Trinity. Laura witnessed the whole ordeal, disoriented. Lost in a dream, or nightmare, she wasn’t sure anymore. She hung on to the enveloping gaze of the man standing next to her, the one thing keeping her feet on the ground, her head on her shoulders. They were each given a candle, to light each other’s paths in the hour of darkness. They were then led to the center of the church, to begin their new journey from flawed fractions to a complete, perfect whole.