She looks down into her glass for a moment and then she looks up directly at me, her gaze unwavering and full of intensity. “There’s a clause in Babushka’s will. Alex gets everything if he is married by the time she dies. If not, then Babushka’s whole inheritance, everything you see here and quite a lot you don’t, will go into a trust fund to maintain the estate and the rest of the family. So you see: no white wedding, no money, no house for Alex.”
I stare at her blankly. To say she pulled the rug out from under my feet doesn’t describe. It’s more like she pushed me into an abyss. I feel as if I’m falling, screaming silently, arms flailing, grasping for something to hold on to and catching only air. I never saw this coming and I don’t know what or who to believe right now. Is this another lie like the ghosts?”
I never take my eyes off her. “Are there ghosts in my room, Petra?”
She shifts uncomfortably. “I’m sorry about that, okay. We just couldn’t resist. We didn’t mean any real harm. But this is not a lie. If you don’t believe me go and ask Alex. He might lie to you, but you’ll see from his expression if he is. A woman in love will always know when the man she loves is lying to her.”
Could this be true? Is what Alex and I have all a lie? Maybe his plan was to offer me the other half of the casino if I went ahead and married him. Or did he expect me to fall in love with him. He is a powerhouse of raw sexual magnetism and pure male beauty so I can’t imagine many girls who wouldn’t eventually fall for him. The truth is if he had asked me to marry him today I would have said yes. For him, for Babushka, for me …
But it can’t be true. Alex doesn’t need Babushka’s money. That’s self-evident. Then I think of all the eighty and ninety-year old billionaires who still go to work every day rain or shine to earn even more money they will never spend in the little time they have left on earth.
But he loves Babushka. I know that’s real. I have to believe in Alex over Petra. I mean this woman has done a complete one eighty on me today. I don’t like her and I never have.
“You’re not mad at me for telling you, are you?” Petra says, cutting through my thoughts.
“No,” I lie. I need to let her think I’m at least considering her story, or this whole thing could blow up.
“But you do believe me, don’t you?” she insists.
I try to think how I would react if I had always just been Alex’s fiancée and had never known there was more to it. I’m not entirely sure how I would react, but I can’t just tell Petra I believe her story blindly, or she’s going to smell a rat. “Actually, Petra, I don’t believe a word you’ve told me. And I’m telling Alex what you told me.”
To my surprise she looks relieved, which means I must have given her the right answer. She wants me to ask Alex, which would also mean she is telling me the truth or that she just wants me to believe she would be happy.
“I’m so sorry to do this to you. I know you love him and it must hurt a lot, but if you take some time to think about it, perhaps the circumstance of how the two of you met, the quickness of your relationship, there will be clues, and you’ll soon see the truth.”
Little does she know … I take a deep breath. “Now that you’ve administered your poison, you can be on your merry way, and take your wine with you so you can celebrate properly.”
“I know you are angry now, but one day you will thank me,” she says, standing up and taking a step away from me. She doesn’t reach for the wine bottle. “I’ll be in my room if you need to talk to someone.”
I watch her walk away and there is only one thought in my head. You scheming little bitch. She really does hate me with a passion and I can see now why Alex wanted a fake girlfriend here, someone who Petra couldn’t emotionally blackmail. I don’t need to think about this. I believe Alex.
I do need to warn him that Petra really has it out for him though. I stand and start walking towards the house, but I remember he had some important calls to make. I can talk to him after dinner tonight. She can’t do much damage today. She has to give me a bit of time to digest what she’s told me.