Roman produced a pen and passed it to her, the thick silver barrel weighty in her small hand, but still warm from where it had sat nestled next to Roman’s body inside his jacket.
As she signed the papers her hand shook just a little and Ella was unsure as to why.
Still, when she had finished, she placed the pen on the tablecloth. ‘Done,’ she said, struggling for a smile, struggling with a strange sense of something she couldn’t quite grasp.
‘And these,’ he said, pushing the other envelope towards her in a similar fashion as before, as if the contents were somehow disdainful to him, ‘are divorce papers.’
She had started to pull the papers from the envelope, started to scan the tight neat rows of printed words, with legal headings topping the pages, found the page with another horrible yellow tab pointing to where another signature from Roman had been scrawled, had almost put pen to paper, when his words finally registered and the thick sheaf dropped onto the table.
‘What?’ she demanded, shaking her head as if she could deny his words, deny the dawning realisation spreading through her body as if to protect her heart for as long as possible.
Roman leaned back in his chair, as if already wanting to remove himself as much from her presence as possible.
‘Four hours ago the shareholders of Kolikov Holdings agreed to begin the liquidation process.’
‘But—’
‘You’re not a shareholder any more.’
A sharp inhale was about all Ella could manage.
‘Roman, is this some kind of joke? Because it’s not funny.’
‘It’s no joke. And you’re right, it’s not funny.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I could see that the moment you asked me not to destroy Vladimir’s company. And then later again, when you wanted to sell me your shares, even though I asked you to reconsider.’
* * *
Roman knew then that he was surely going to hell. Everything in him fought, raged, snarled against the words coming from his mouth, words that would eternally sever his connection to this incredible woman and his child. His child. But he had to. If not for Ella’s sake, then for the sake of that very same child.
Many months ago, Ella had voiced her desire, her need for freedom. And Roman had realised that it might just be the only thing he could give her. And in order to do that, in order to really ensure that she was in no doubt about the need to have that freedom, that distance, he would have to make her hate him more than she had ever done before.
‘You saw it when…when I asked you not to destroy the company? But that was… That was months ago, Roman. Have you planned this the whole time?’ she asked, her voice thick with the tears he could see about to fall from her cornflower-blue eyes.
‘Yes,’ he lied. ‘The whole time,’ he said, unable to bear the sight of his wife so distraught any more. Instead, he focused his gaze over her shoulder, but was unable to avoid the images of Ella dancing in Fiji, seeing her cry her pleasure the night they’d shared at the gazebo, seeing the way she had looked at him the night they had conceived their child, with wonder and awe and—even then—the beginnings of a foolish love.
‘I was the one who called Loukas,’ he said, knowing that this would lay bare the true darkness within him.
‘You…what? I don’t… I thought…’
‘You thought wrong. I have known Liordis for nearly four years. Knew that he’d been looking for something that would redeem him in the eyes of the world. He was perfect for what I needed of him, and what you wanted of him.’
‘And you got him to demand the money that I could only achieve by selling my shares.’
It was a statement. Not a question. And he was thankful for that, for it meant he didn’t have to lie about that, he could simply let her assume the worst. And somehow, even though that was his intention, it hurt. It hurt that she could so easily believe that of him—and he realised that painful bitter irony of his hurt. Because that was precisely why he was doing this. Because, for all her declaration of love, of trust, she couldn’t really love him or trust him. He had done far too much damage before they’d even had a chance at something more. He knew that. And far better for it to end now than later. Than after he had let down his guard, after he had allowed himself to fall…
He cut off that thought with a sharp slashing movement of his hand, which Ella seemed to interpret as confirmation of her supposition.
‘Once you sold me your shares I was finally able to destroy Kolikov Holdings. And if there is any justice in this world then Vladimir is turning in his grave, knowing that I, not he, got the last laugh.’
‘Laugh?’ she demanded. ‘Laugh? You dare reduce my life and the life of our child to a laugh?’
She was shivering now, but with anger, with fury. And it incited his own.
‘Nyet. No. No, I would not.’
‘I loved you.’
‘Then it can’t have been that great a love if it is already gone.’
* * *
Nausea swelled in her stomach, her hand sweeping to soothe, to calm the erratic kicks she could feel there as if even their child was reeling with horror at her husband’s…her… Roman’s actions.
She thought then that she might have seen him flinch, might have seen the tightening of his jaw and an echo of the pain that she felt rising within her, but knew she was wrong. Because this man…wasn’t capable of such a feeling. Gone was her fiancé, who had indulged
