As Tracy helped me to get back into bed, I barely registered the pain that came with the movements because my chest was aching, aching even more for the friend I had loved, the girl I had found hanging from the ceiling fan, with a rope she had bought at the hardware store around her neck. Her tongue was swollen and protruding from her mouth, and her blouse was wet with saliva.
“Are you alright?” Tracy had noted my changed demeanor.
I found a smile for her. “I’m fine.”
She wanted to help me lie on my back, but I refused. “It’s alright. I’ll just sit for a little while.”
“Okay,” she said with a smile and turned to leave. “Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” I responded, and watched her leave. My gaze remained on the door, but I saw nothing. My mind was filled with Anna. How I had cut the rope down with a kitchen knife that day and held her in my arms sobbing, until finally the police arrived and pried her away from my clawed hands.
It was a long time before I turned to look at the flowers.
It made my heart ache in a way that immediately choked me with tears. She must have told him that sunflowers were my favorite flower. Why did he send them to me? Was it a threat, that perhaps I could also end up like Anna? Or was he just plain dumb?
I wanted to pick up the phone to call him, to vent my fury, but all the raw emotion made my chest feel tight and constricted, so I focused on breathing evenly. Ever since he came into my life again my insides were constantly boiling.
I stared at them, at how ugly they had become simply because he had sent them. How dare he? Viciously, I swung my hand out and it hit the tall glass vase. It flew from the table and crashed to the floor, shattering into sharp shards, water rushing out, and the flowers scattering on the plain gray floor.
A few seconds later there was hurried footsteps and Tracy burst into the room.
I turned to meet her eyes, first filled with concern, then confusion, as she looked from the chaos of shattered glass and strewn flowers at my feet, to the dead look in my eyes.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “Please get someone to clean it up and take it away. I hate sunflowers.”
Then I lay down on my bed, drew the covers over me, and shut my eyes to find peace.
Chapter Twelve
Maxim
“She destroyed the flowers?” Levan repeated.
Otari nodded. He was afraid to meet my eyes, so it was a relief to keep them on my brother.
“Why?” Levan asked.
“I don’t know, Sir.”
“Leave,” I said, and Otari immediately exited the office.
Levan turned to me. “Do you know why she would do that?”
“Apart from the fact that she hates me, you mean?”
I returned back to the Belarus factory acquisition report I’d been studying before Otari came in, but the words on the page could have as well not been there. Nothing registered beyond what Otari had told us. I shouldn’t be surprised, but did she truly hate me that much? Not that it put me off. In fact, the opposite was true. Her intense hate invigorated and intrigued me. The idea of conquest always did that to me. Making her mine was going to be an extremely enjoyable task.
“Why did you send her sunflowers?”
I could feel his gaze burning through me as he waited for an answer to my question. I shrugged. “I was told they are her favorite flowers.”
He looked at me speculatively. “Ahh, so you do have a thing for her.”
I shrugged. “You are wandering into territories you shouldn’t little brother.”
“Hmm … so who told you about the flowers?” he asked, refusing to drop the topic.
“Anna Petrovska.”
“Anna Petrovska? Wow! I almost forgot about her.”
There was a very long silence that followed as both of us revisited memories from the very skinny, blonde girl. When Levan spoke again his voice was small with grave concern.
“Do you really want to marry Freya? You might end up being miserable. I mean I know you’re not particularly looking to marry for love, but there is a certain satisfaction you can get from being with someone you can at least be civil with. Freya is like a wild…” he searched for the right word.
“Horse?” I supplied.
“Yes, like a wild horse. She will not let anyone tame her enough for her to be ridden on.”
“I think I can ride,” I said with a grin.
Levan sucked in a breath. “You know, I actually think she would be perfect for you if she didn’t hate you so much. Having said that hate is the other side of the coin. If you play your cards right she would come to love just as fiercely as she hates you now. Come to think of it, she almost reminds me of Bianca in that way, but Bianca only goes after trouble when it comes looking for her. Freya seems the kind to stir up storms even while she’s aslee—”