The Mistress

“Maybe you wouldn’t need protection then,” he said gently.

“We all need that,” she said quietly, “even Vladimir. Life is dangerous. Being poor is dangerous. You can die from it. I almost did. So did he, like a dog in the streets when he was fourteen. We all need someone to watch over us.” Theo could see why she was with him now—she had come from such a raw, barren, dangerous place that survival was all important to her, not furs and jewels and the expensive clothes she wore, or his yachts, which were important to him and not to her. She was focused on survival. She couldn’t conceive of living in a safe world where she wasn’t at risk every day, as she had been as a young girl. Vladimir had lifted her from that world into his own. It was all she knew. And even now she remembered the dangers too clearly. A life like Theo’s growing up was utterly foreign to her. Or other people’s lives, where there were few risks, if any, and you did ordinary things, met people, had friends, fell in love, had relationships, went to work or school. He sensed that she liked the idea of it, but it was all too unfamiliar to her. All she knew was a world of bodyguards and yachts, with a man at her side who was her savior and protector, in her eyes, no matter how dangerous he might be to others. It was all about that for her, safety from the demons and real dangers of her past. She cared about what he provided in an otherwise dangerous world.

“Russia is a hard place,” she said quietly, “or it used to be. I think it still is for most people. The strong ones like Vladimir survive and climb out, and he pulled me out with him. The others don’t make it, and many of them die. I might have been one of those.”

“You gave up your freedom for all that,” he said, still shocked by it, and sad for her. She seemed so fragile, but he suspected she was stronger than she looked. But her innocence was real.

She nodded, but didn’t seem to mind sacrificing her freedom to Vladimir. “It’s the price I paid for a peaceful life. We all give up something.” She was philosophical about it.

“You never answered me when I asked if you love him.” He knew he had no right to ask but wanted to know. It had tormented him for months, and he knew he might never get the chance to ask her again. He doubted that he’d be able to see her.

“I think I do. He is very good to me, in the ways he knows. He’s not a soft man. He doesn’t want children. I don’t either. The world is a frightening place for a child. What if everything goes wrong for them? I couldn’t do that to someone else and give them the life I had.” It was hard for Theo to understand, his parents had adored him and doted on him, his entire life had been comfortable and safe. He had never been at risk in any way. How could he judge a life like hers? He knew he couldn’t and didn’t want to, and was willing to forgive her anything she had done to survive. And who knew what he would have done in her shoes, what he would have been willing to trade for his survival? She had known danger from the day she was born. And he suspected that she wasn’t exempt from it with Vladimir now, but she didn’t seem to see that, and believed herself safe with him. Theo couldn’t assess it, it was just a feeling he had, a sixth sense, given who and what Vladimir was.

“And if it ends, then what happens?” he asked, looking concerned for her. They were all the questions he had had about her for months, and it was his only chance to ask them and get to know her better, in a single afternoon. The food had arrived by then, and they were eating, but the conversation was more important to both of them than the meal. She had wondered about him too, and men like Theo were a mystery to her, men close to her age, who had wholesome, normal lives. She never met men like him, and never would. Vladimir saw to it, and she was a willing partner in her own isolation.

“I don’t know what would happen if it ends,” she said honestly. “I don’t think it will. He needs me. But one day there may be someone younger, or more exciting. He’s a generous man. If I betray him, he will never forgive me. If I don’t, I think he’ll take care of me. And if not, I will have to find my way. I wouldn’t go back to Russia then. I couldn’t survive there, even now, without him. It’s too hard.” Theo knew there was another solution too, but didn’t say it to her. As his mother had said, most women like her found another man like Vladimir if they were cast off. The mistresses of rich, powerful Russian men always seemed to find another one, perhaps not as important as the first, or sometimes more so, if they were lucky. But the life they had led made them unsuitable for ordinary men. There was no way they could adjust to a real life once they had existed in the rarefied atmosphere of men like him, and most of those women didn’t want to. He wasn’t sure about Natasha and what she would do. She seemed different to him, but maybe she wasn’t, and perhaps she was addicted to all the benefits she reaped daily in Vladimir’s world. How could you leave a life like his for a real one? Few women could, and most wouldn’t want to. In a way, Vladimir had ruined her for everyone else if he ever left her, except a man just like him. Theo felt deep compassion for her, as they finished lunch and ordered coffee, and decided to share a dessert. They ordered the soft chocolate cake, which was delicious.

There was one last question he wanted to ask her, although neither of them knew the answer to it.

“What if you ever left him?” Admittedly, it was hard to imagine.

“Why would I? He’s good to me, he’s a kind man. I think he loves me in his own way.”

“But if you did for some reason?” She thought about it for a minute and almost said “he would kill me,” but she didn’t want to shock Theo or frighten him.

“He would never forgive me.” And they both suspected he could be dangerous then, but neither of them said it, they just thought it.

“When I first met you, I wondered if you were happy with him. He’s so much older than you are, so hard, so tough. Men like that don’t get softer when they go home at night.”

“No, they don’t,” she agreed. “I’m happy enough. I would be more unhappy without him.” And Theo knew now that it wasn’t about the lifestyle or the perks he provided, but the safety she believed he afforded her. Theo hoped she was right. But whatever her reasons, he was sorry for her. He thought she was missing a lot, whether she knew it or not. But she seemed to have no regrets about her lost freedom. She seemed to think it was unimportant, as a trade for her allegedly protected life.