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‘I’ll be there again next month.’

And he knew then he’d changed because next month was an eternity in the relationship stakes for him and yet he was starting to envision the weeks with Libby—imagining that, weeks from now, months from now, years from now, they two might remain. Yes, Charlotte was like the cake, perfect to look at yet something was lacking. There was no temptation to taste now.

‘Why don’t you give me your number?’ Charlotte asked. ‘I tried calling a while back but your receptionist wouldn’t put me through. If I had your—’

‘I don’t give it out to just anyone,’ Daniil interrupted.

‘I’m not just anyone.’

And he looked into eyes that were playing the game he had played for so long, yet he was over it now.

‘Oh, but you are.’

Yes, he was the bastard she told him he was, and as Libby returned to the grand hall it was to the sight of Charlotte walking rapidly away from his arms.

No, Libby wasn’t secure enough not to notice or care.

The evening was winding down and Daniil just wanted to get out of this toxic place but he still hadn’t spoken with his father and as Richard came over, he decided to deal with that now.

‘We’re going riding in the morning,’ Richard said. ‘It will be an early start and then back here for breakfast...’

‘Not for me,’ Daniil said. ‘We need to head off before nine. I was wondering if I could have a word, though.’

‘Now really isn’t the best time.’

Libby was by his side, watching the terse exchange, feeling Daniil’s hand tighten around her fingers.

‘It will only take a few moments.’

Richard gave a very stiff nod and as he walked off Daniil went to follow him. Given he was holding her hand, Libby walked with them, but as they reached the entrance hall Daniil seemed to remember she was there and let go.

‘I need to speak with my father.’

‘I could come with you.’

He shot her a look that told her she had overstepped the mark and she didn’t know her place here.

‘Go to sleep. I’ll be up later.’

‘Sleep?’ Libby said. ‘People are still dancing, the party hasn’t finished...’

‘It has for us.’ Already he had gone and she stood there, trying to comprehend such a dismissal. She gave a wide, though incredulous smile as Marcus the butler came over.

‘I think I’ve just been sent to bed.’ Libby shook her head in bewilderment. One moment they had been dancing and together, the next she had been packed off to bed.

* * *

Daniil stood there as Libby flounced up the stairs and then followed his father into the dark bowels of the house—Richard’s study. As they walked in and his father took a seat at his desk Daniil remembered standing here, handing over his report cards. But he wasn’t a teenager now and he stood taller than the man who had so badly bullied him.

‘I can guess what you’re here for,’ Richard said. ‘Your mother and I have spoken at length about the inheritance—’

‘I am not here about your estate,’ Daniil interrupted, and he watched his father press his lips together as his son’s public school voice fell away and Daniil stood, menacing, challenging and defiant. ‘What you do there is your business. I’ve never had an interest in your money.’

Air whistled out of Richard’s nostrils in frustration. One of the many things that irked him was that Daniil could buy and sell him several times over.

‘The letters.’ Daniil had known exactly what he planned to say, but in the courtroom of his father’s study for a moment he felt as if he was back to being a teenager and the words did not flow. ‘I want to know—’

‘Ah, yes.’ Richard went into his desk. ‘A deal’s a deal. Though there was only one.’

Daniil frowned as his father took out an envelope. He did everything not to display need but his hand was shaking as he took it from his father. The writing was in English but it had been written by a Russian, Daniil could tell that from the curve of the letters and the numbers.

It must be from Roman!

He wanted to rip it open there and then but he just stared at it, looking at the stamps from home and the faded writing and trying to read the postmark as hope started to rise in his chest—finally he had contact with his twin.

‘When did this come?’ Daniil asked.

‘Oh, it would be five or six years ago now.’


Tags: Carol Marinelli Billionaire Romance