The Last Kolovsky Playboy

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The Last Kolovsky Playboy Page 14

by Carol Marinelli


  ‘I changed my mind.’ A cruel smile twisted his lips. ‘Which is a man’s prerogative.’

  Slap.

  Her hand sliced the air, struck at his cheek. He made no move to halt it. Worse, he gave no reaction to it, and she watched as the doorman discreetly closed the door and backed away, watched the smoothness of his cheek turn red, saw the shape of her fingers on his flesh. It didn’t even move him.

  ‘I trusted you.’ He said nothing as she voiced her truth. ‘I could accept that it wasn’t for ever, I agreed to your rules, to your twisted logic. But in bed, with us, when we made love, I trusted you.’ She saw him blink. It was his only reaction, but it was more than she’d come to expect and so she told him—told him exactly what he had just done to her. ‘Even when you whispered that you would always want me—’ she saw him blink again ‘—I stuck to the rules and told myself it was passion talking. But I didn’t deserve that.’ He closed his eyes for a second, but she would not let him shut her out. ‘I trusted you with my body, Aleksi. I felt safe and gorgeous and free of shame. When we made love I thought in that, at least, we were on the same level—that whatever else we had, that was something honest between us.’

  ‘Did you feel safe and gorgeous and free of shame when you were on the beach with Craig?’ Livid eyes turned to her, because he wanted to see this—wanted her eyes to widen when she realised that he knew, wanted to watch her fall from the dizzy heights of her moral high ground and scrabble on the floor to pick herself up with fractured reasons and excuses.

  ‘Actually, yes,’ Kate said simply, and she opened her own door and stepped out. ‘We’ve got a meeting to go to.’

  ‘You were unfaithful to me,’ Aleksi sneered.

  ‘No.’ She walked to the lift with her head held high—walked just a step in front of him and only spoke again when the lift doors were safely closed behind them. ‘I finally felt free because Craig was telling me he was moving overseas. I finally felt free because he wasn’t asking for money and he wasn’t suddenly deciding he wanted to take Georgie with him. I felt free because finally we’d worked out our boundaries. You could have spoken to me, Aleksi. You could have asked what I was doing with him, asked me to explain what was going on, instead of screwing the truth out of me.’

  He gave a black laugh. ‘What, and give you a chance to come up with excuses?’

  ‘I don’t need your chances, Aleksi, and I don’t need your mistrust.’ She had never felt so weak, so floored, so raw, and yet somehow she had never felt so strong as she walked into her old office and stood at her old desk. ‘And I don’t need to make excuses.’ She fixed him with a stare and she meant every word that she said. ‘We’re done.’

  ‘So why are you still here?’ Aleksi demanded.

  ‘Because, unlike you, I have a moral compass. I have a daughter too, and the cleaner the break the less the impact on her. If you don’t mind, I’d like to tell Georgie back at the house, and then we’ll find a hotel.’

  ‘Kate…’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it, Aleksi.’

  ‘Tell me exactly what you were doing with him and maybe then…’

  ‘You’ll forgive me? Or will it suddenly be acceptable to you? I’ll prove that this time you were mistaken? But what about next time, Aleksi? What happens next time you decide I’m not trustworthy?’ She shook her head, and she was so angry she wanted to hit him again—only this time she stopped herself. The tears that were building inside her she would save for later. ‘What you did to me back there,’ Kate said, ‘I’ll never understand and I’ll never forgive. But I’m not going to be a martyr and give you back your money—after what you just did to me I’ve earned every last cent of your million dollars. In fact, you owe me!’

  What she was saying should have killed him, should have hurt, should have shamed him—except he was beyond all that. He was numb, frozen, locked up—because in their darkest moment he wasn’t even thinking about her.

  Coming towards him was a walking nightmare—one he’d never been able to wake from. One he’d never been able to adequately describe or recall, except in the black moths that fluttered and taunted his shattered memory as logic tried to pin them down. They all gathered now, as clear as day, and walked right up to him.

  ‘Aleksi,’ Zakahr Belenki announced as he stood before him. ‘I believe we have much to discuss.’

  Chapter Eleven

  ‘STAY.’

  Rarely did Kate sit in on meetings—and especially not since she had been masquerading as his fiancée.

  His ex-fake fiancée she reminded herself. But stay she did, because Aleksi’s face was suddenly grey.

  The air was thick with tension and Kate didn’t really understand why. Sure, Zakahr Belenki was a difficult customer—he had his claws in Kolovsky, thanks to Nina, and it would be hard extricating them—but Aleksi was more than up to the task.

  ‘We seem to keep missing each other.’ Zakahr’s Russian accent was pronounced.

  He shook Aleksi’s hand and nodded to Kate, but she could feel the animosity sizzling between them and suddenly all she wanted was out.

  There was danger here. She could smell it.

  Despite the designer suits and opulent surroundings there was something primitive about them—two gang lords meeting. Despite the white smiles, their eyes were black as they locked.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Aleksi dismissed the polite observation. ‘I have made every effort to meet. You, Zakahr, have been the one who has been unavailable.’

  ‘Well, I’m here now.’ Zakahr gave a brief shrug. ‘Where is Nina?’

  ‘I am head of Kolovsky,’ Aleksi said. ‘You speak with me.’

  ‘Of course,’ Zakahr replied. ‘As you know, I have an exciting vision for the House of Kolovsky,’ Zakahr went on, ‘and it will benefit my charity with a percentage—’

  Aleksi put up his hand to stop him. ‘You are a brilliant businessman,’ Aleksi said. ‘As am I. You must know that this is only a short-term gain—that in two years the exclusive name we have built will be no more.’

  ‘My priority is to my charity. Nina assures me—’

  ‘Nina speaks rubbish,’ Aleksi interjected. ‘If Nina had her way you could buy Kolovsky toilet paper in the two-dollar shop—where,’ he added, ‘we would all be working. Don’t hide behind your charity in this office.’

  ‘Okay.’

  There was a mirthless smile on the edge of Zakahr’s lips, and it made Kate uncomfortable. It was the winning edge she had seen in Aleksi when he held a full hand, and suddenly she was scared—of what, Kate didn’t know, but she was scared all the same.

  ‘Kolovsky is raising millions for your charity,’ Aleksi pointed out. ‘That stream will continue for as long as Kolovsky is strong—yet this plan you propose to my mother, while it might bring you an initial surge of income, will rapidly end. Kolovsky will dry like a stream in the desert if we follow this through—you and I both know it. Your aim is to crush Kolovsky.’

  Kate felt her breath hold in her lungs as Aleksi threw down the most outlandish suggestion. But then he reiterated it.

  ‘You want the business to go under.’

  ‘Why would I want that?’ Zakahr frowned. ‘I am serious about my charity.’

  ‘Don’t play your games with me,’ Aleksi said coldly. ‘The truth, or leave!’

  ‘You really want the truth?’

  ‘Oh, I want it,’ Aleksi gritted out. ‘I want to hear how you plan to crush Kolovsky—how in two years you hope to—’

  ‘Aleksi…’ As his PA, Kate would never have dared interrupt, even as his make-believe fiancée she had no right to, but his accusations were so outlandish, his anger so palpable, she couldn’t contain herself. He was walking into a trap and she wanted to warn him.

  It never entered her head that Aleksi already knew it was there…

  ‘You’re right,’ Zakahr admitted bluntly. ‘My hope is that in two years I sit at your desk on my annual visit to Australia. That it will be the House of Belenki whic
h produces the silks that make women weep with greed.’

  Kate just sat, her mouth agape.

  ‘Your mother brings me coffee, or perhaps she cleans the stairs when I walk in with my filthy shoes…’ He stopped. ‘That is the dream—but I will settle for reality. I will accept the House of Kolovsky’s complete demise…’

  Why?

  Kate wanted to ask, but she sat there silent, waiting for Aleksi to demand the same—except he didn’t.

  ‘Don’t you want to know why?’ Zakahr asked finally, when Aleksi said nothing.

  ‘I already know why,’ he said quietly.

  ‘You know nothing,’ Zakahr sneered. ‘You sat there drunk at a fundraising ball as I spoke of my childhood, of how I prostituted myself just to survive. You simply snapped your fingers for more champagne, and then the world wept when the next day you wrapped your car around a tree. You write a cheque and your work is done. Iosef at least makes an effort, Levander tries too—even your sister is making amends. But you, Aleksi, have forgotten your roots.’

  ‘Never,’ he denied.

  ‘You live a gluttonous, debauched life that is built on shame—’

  ‘There’s no shame!’ Kate countered, her voice thin and pale in the crackling silence.

  Zakahr’s face was bleached in hate, as if at any moment he might leap across the desk and take Aleksi’s throat in his hands. But worse, and most confusing for Kate, was the fact that Aleksi just sat there, leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as each accusation was hurled. So it was she who jumped in.

  ‘The Kolovskys have already acknowledged what happened to Levander…’

  ‘This isn’t about Levander,’ Aleksi said, but he didn’t look at Kate. His eyes were on Zakahr.

  ‘Your fake boyfriend is right,’ Zakahr said. ‘I’ve been through the figures—he’s certainly paying you well!’ he sneered in her direction. ‘This isn’t about Levander. This is about revenge.’

  ‘Revenge?’ Kate swallowed.

  ‘You want the truth?’ Zakahr challenged Aleksi. ‘Well, here it is.’

  ‘I told you—I already know the truth.’

  Only now did Aleksi look at Kate, and she saw the slate-grey of his eyes. Even as her eyes darted to Zakahr, even before Aleksi spoke again, Kate knew it too—realised a little more of the pain he carried.

  ‘Kate, this is my brother, Zakahr.’

  She saw the dart of surprise in Zakahr’s eyes, saw him swallow before speaking.

  ‘You know?’

  Aleksi nodded.

  ‘For how long?’

  ‘That it was you?’ Aleksi asked the question. ‘Only now do I know that for sure.’ He continued, almost speaking to himself. ‘Ivan and Nina had another child. They had a relationship when they were young and broke up for a while—which was when Ivan fathered Levander—you, Zakahr, are my full brother.’

  Then he told him about the certificates he had found aged seven, that he had found out his kin were being raised in orphanages.

  Riminic Ivan Kolovsky.

  Levander Ivan Kolovsky.

  There had been no Zakahr.

  ‘I changed my name,’ Zakahr explained. ‘Not at first. I ran away and worked the street for several years, and you don’t need a name there. A charity like the one I run now offered me a way out. It was then—when I was a man, when I had picked myself out of the gutter—that I swore revenge. It was only then—when I wasn’t eating out of garbage cans, when I wanted an education—that I needed a name. Perhaps you can see why I chose not to take my father’s.’ He looked at Aleksi with loathing. ‘Did you never think to look for me?’

  ‘I didn’t know. I couldn’t remember,’ Aleksi said.

  ‘You found out when you were seven—you are a man now.’

  Kate just sat there—she didn’t know what to say, because Zakahr was right. With all Aleksi’s means, with all his money, with everything at his disposal, shouldn’t he have at least looked?

  After the longest silence Aleksi spoke. ‘I thought I was going mad. I thought I had brain damage from the accident. For months now—all the months since the accident—I have been trying to work it out; I thought the accident had robbed me of my memory,’ Aleksi explained, ‘though now I see it actually brought things back.’

  Zakahr opened his mouth to speak, but as Aleksi continued he stayed silent.

  ‘I knew something was wrong before the accident. I was out of control, but I didn’t know why. I hated seeing you at the charity ball, but after you left I tried to speak with you—I was driving to the airport when the accident happened and I didn’t even know what for. I didn’t know you were my brother.’

  ‘Please!’ Zakahr retorted. ‘You’ve just told me that you knew you had a brother in an orphanage in Russia, you knew you reacted emotionally when you saw me, when you heard about my past, and you expect me to believe that it never entered your head that it might be me?’

  ‘After the accident I could remember the beating my father gave me when I was seven as clear as anything. I could remember finding the certificates, demanding to know about you. You can believe it or not, though I swear this is the truth—until then I had no recall of it, even when Levander arrived…’ He looked back on those years with different eyes now. ‘It was a shock to find out about him.’ Aleksi shook his head as if to clear it, as he struggled to join together the pieces of his mind from before and after that fateful day. ‘Only after the accident did I remember what I had found out all that time ago. The revelation all those years before had completely disappeared from my memory.’ He shook his head again, but in bemusement. ‘How?’

  ‘He literally knocked it out of you,’ Zakahr said, and Aleksi just sat there, stunned. ‘For a child to survive, sometimes the brain is kind and allows denial. I know because there are things I have done that I don’t remember—just sometimes I wake up in the night…’

  ‘And you know you’ve glimpsed hell?’ Aleksi murmured. He knew because he had.

  After that restless night at the ball had led him to Kate’s door once more he had headed for the airport, filled with a need to put matters right with Zakahr, to face what he was facing now.

  ‘I have thought of revenge for a long time.’ Zakahr said. ‘It has been my one sure goal—to bring you all down.’

  ‘Have your revenge, then,’ Aleksi said. ‘There will be no argument from me.’

  ‘You might want to speak with your lawyer first,’ Zakahr responded. ‘Shore up your assets, close a few doors…’ He frowned when Aleksi shook his head. ‘But surely you would want to protect the people that you love?’

  ‘Levander, Iosef, myself—we can all take care of ourselves. I have already taken care of the others that matter.’

  ‘I understand,’ Zakahr said.

  And suddenly so too did Kate, and she saw a drop of salt water land on her lap, replaying so many conversations through tear-filled eyes. She knew now why Aleksi had so badly wanted her to cash the cheque. Somehow, even though he had hurt her today more than she thought she could bear, he had been taking care of her.

  ‘What about Krasavitsa?’ Belenki checked. ‘Your mother said before you would never step down from that without a fight.’

  ‘Take it,’ Aleksi stated emotionlessly. ‘If it makes you feel better.’

  He had lost everything.

  He had lost her.

  There was no thrill, no elation, no victory, no peace.

  He had nothing to give, nothing to offer to make it up to her.

  Aleksi knew that as he drove her to his home for the final time.

  His past—his shame, his family’s shame—had all finally caught up with them. After his mistrust, his treatment of Kate, he knew, because he had finally let himself know her, that there would be no going back for the two of them.

  He had hurt her at her very core.

  But the old Aleksi suddenly jumped on his shoulder, whispering in his ear as he hugged the bends on the beach road, grinding the gears, accelerating out of bends,
trying to justify the way he’d treated her. She had been with her ex, she’d kissed him, he’d seen it…

  What had she seen? he asked himself.

  Over the years, as he’d ricocheted from scandal to scandal, what had the woman who’d loved him throughout it all silently endured?

  He looked over to her and knew he was right about how she felt about him—and it wasn’t vanity or presumption, as it once had been. Her love had been different, and so rare he hadn’t recognised it. A steadfast love that had been there beside him through bad times as well as good, and now, because of his actions, it was lost.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  The old Aleksi would have attempted to lighten the silence that followed his apology, would have confused her with casual words like, We can finish what we started, would have made her blink till she wondered if she’d misread what had happened, till he convinced her that she had.

  ‘For what?’ she asked.

  ‘All of it.’ They were nearing his house and he slowed down to slide through the electric gates. ‘Had I known, had I understood that Zakahr was my brother, had I known just how toxic my family’s history really was, I would never have exposed you to it. I would never have brought you and Georgie to my home at such a time. I knew something was wrong. I had no idea just how wrong it all was.’

  ‘I don’t care about your family’s mistakes! All I cared about was you,’ she cried.

  They were home, or at his house anyway, and she climbed out of the car.

  ‘I am sorry, too, for accusing you about what happened before…’

  ‘For what?’ Kate wanted him to say it out loud.

  ‘For what happened,’ he repeated.

  ‘For what?’ she pressed.

  ‘For…’ He didn’t know how to describe it, but he tried. ‘For holding back from you when we last made love.’

  She laughed a black laugh as she went into the house—because that was exactly what he had done. ‘You hold back in everything, Aleksi. You hold yourself back because you’re so damn scared of falling.’

  Oh, she would have said more, but the trouble with being a parent was that at times it included children. Little girls who arrived home when they shouldn’t. And even though she wanted to scream and shout and kick and fight, Kate knew that instead she had to smile, to swallow down her loss and anger and pretend it didn’t hurt, to convince her daughter that leaving was a good idea, that they were better off without him, that Mummy was absolutely and completely fine…

 

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