Not yours anymore Mr ASHFORD

Chapter 4

The sound of the front door slamming could be heard across the large entrance hall as Nikolai rushed into the house, Cassandra following closely. His face was set in sharp lines, his mouth closed tightly enough to split stone.

"I've called everyone—her friends, the stores she visits, even that charity where she volunteers," Nikolai said, throwing his phone on the marble counter.  "Everyone has not seen her." 

Arm crossed, Matteo leaned against the doorframe and watched his pal pace like a trapped beast.  You have to cool off.  She most likely lost track of time and is merely shopping. 

"For six hours?!"  Nikolai shot him a gaze that would cause weaker men to hide. 

"Women," Matteo said, a tiny smile flickering at his lips. He shrugged.  "You know how they are when they are perusing those designer stores." 

Her cards are still here, Nikolai said, his voice lowering.  "Her phone is on the counter. 

Dramatically sighing, Cassandra settled on the fluffy sofa.  She crossed her legs, the slit in her dress showing a good length of thigh.  "Darling, you are exaggerating too much.  She is an adult woman, not some deferential youngster." 

Ignoring her, Nikolai kept pace and checked his watch every few minutes.  His confusion came from the constriction in his chest.  Why was his anxiety so great?  She was merely his wife on paper—an arrangement, nothing more.  Still, the idea of her missing, maybe hurt or worse, tore at him with unanticipated force. 

Many hours went by.  Midnight returned and disappeared.  Though he wanted to keep asking them, Nikolai had sent most of the crew to bed.  Matteo had departed after Nikolai promised to phone should there be any news.  Only Cassandra stayed, not to go from his side; her focus grew more audacious as the evening progressed. 

She said, "Come sit with me," patting the sofa's adjacent space.  "Tonight there is nothing more we can do." 

Reluctantly following her, Nikolai's body was tense like a bowstring.  Cassandra wasted no time; her hands slipped over his shoulders, caressing his neck's tight muscles. 

She said, "You carry so much tension," her lips near his ear.  "Let me help you to relax." 

Her fingers traced their way down his chest, and his mind stayed elsewhere even though he did not push her away.  Two strikes on the grandfather clock in the corner broke the stillness of the evening. 

The faint click of the entrance door halted them both just then.  Nikolai's head shot forward, his body aware right away. 

Elena stood pallid and drawn in the doorway.  Their eyes locked across the room for a moment—his burning with a mix of relief and wrath, hers unreadable and far-off.  Her eyes moved to Cassandra, whose hands still lay possessively on his chest, and something flickered across her face before vanishing behind a mask of apathy. 

"Elena," Nikolai whispered, his voice harsh as he stood.  "Where have you been?" 

She didn't reply right away; her eyes scanned the scene before her— Cassandra's smug smile, their close proximity, the ragged sofa cushions. 

"Out," she said at last, her voice free of feeling.  She turned without further word and started down the steps. 

That's all you have to say?  Nikolai called after her, his earlier worry replaced by rage. 

One hand softly resting on the banister, Elena stopped on the steps.  She turned just enough to glance at him across her shoulder.  "Why?  You appear to have had enough company when I was away.  Nikolai jerked at her answer; she never answered him that way. 

She walked measured and slow up the stairs before he could reply.  Nikolai began to track her, but Cassandra's hand on his arm stopped him. 

She whispered quietly, "Let her go," satisfaction shining in her eyes.  "She merely wants to guilt-manage you.  Return me. 

Elena closed the bedroom door upstairs, leaning against it while the well kept calm started to break.  Her hand went naturally to her stomach, still flat but carrying the secret she had verified just hours before. 

Remembering the doctor's severe warning concerning stress levels and the health of her pregnancy, she murmured to her unborn child, "I won't let him hurt you."  The recollection of his words sharpened her will. 

Mrs. Ashford, your blood pressure is alarming.  For your child at this age as well as you, high-stress situations might be dangerous.  You have to provide a peaceful, encouraging environment first priority.  

She shifted to face the starry gardens down from the window.  Once seeming to be a fairy tale, the mansion seemed like a jail.  It was all too much— Nikolai's hot and cold demeanor, his public humiliation, Cassandra's deliberate brutality.  Not only for her but for the innocent life developing within her. 

The silence of the night had just begun to calm her racing heart when the bedroom door crashed open. 

Nikolai stormed in, his face contorted with barely contained fury. His tie was gone, shirt half-unbuttoned, as if he'd been pacing and tugging at his clothes for hours.

"Is that where you were?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "With another man?"

Elena turned slowly, her face composed despite the trembling in her hands. "What?"

"Don't play innocent," he spat, advancing toward her. "Six hours, Elena. No phone, no cards. "Were you warming someone else's bed while I was worrying myself sick?"

A bitter laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it. "Worried? Is that what you call it? From where I stood, you looked quite comfortable with Cassandra's hands all over you."

Nikolai froze, clearly startled by her response. The Elena he knew would have lowered her eyes, apologized, tried to placate him. This woman standing before him with fire in her eyes was someone he hadn't seen before.

"You disappear for hours and have the audacity to question me?" he growled, recovering quickly. "Who is he? Some charity case you took pity on? Another one of your bleeding-heart projects?"

Elena crossed her arms, standing her ground. "There is no 'he,' Nikolai. But even if there were, would it matter? Our marriage is nothing but a business arrangement, isn't it? Isn't that what you remind me every chance you get?"

The bedroom door, still ajar from Nikolai's dramatic entrance, creaked wider as Ella glided in uninvited. Her silk robe whispered against the marble floor, her perfectly made-up face betraying the late hour.

"My, my," she purred, leaning against the doorframe with a practiced casualness. "Such fire from our little mouse tonight." Her calculating eyes swept over Elena, narrowing slightly. "Perhaps your mysterious outing provided more than just fresh air. Has someone been filling your head with ideas, dear? Some new man giving you courage?"

Nikolai's jaw tightened at his stepmother's intrusion, but his eyes never left Elena's face.

"This doesn't concern you, Ella," he said tersely.

Ella's smile only widened. "Everything in this house concerns me, my dear boy. Especially when your wife starts developing a backbone she never had before." She moved closer to Elena, circling her like a predator. "What changed, Elena? Or should I ask, who changed you?"

Elena kept her gaze steady, refusing to be intimidated. "No man changed me, Ella. Perhaps I simply reached my limit."

Nikolai's eyes darkened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. "Everyone out," he commanded suddenly. When neither woman moved, he roared, "NOW!"

Ella lifted her hands in mock surrender, backing toward the door. "Don't be too harsh on her, Nikolai. She's clearly learned new tricks. Might make things more... interesting." With a knowing smile, she slipped out, closing the door behind her.