The Russian Billionaire - Page 58

His lawyer tried to demolish that argument by saying the killer could have entered through the kitchen, but the prosecution was ready. They flew the owner of the hotel into America. He testified that no one can enter through the back entrance, because the kitchen is locked after seven pm and there is always kitchen staff hanging around the back.

I have to admit his testimony is very solid and it doesn’t sound good for Konstantin. Slowly, I begin to realize a lot now rests on my testimony. I was Konstantin’s alibi. If I could not vouch for him being in the room with me during the murder, I would basically be throwing him to the wolves.

In two days it will be my turn to testify.

Today I’m working a shift running the bar for Lois’s manager. It is a black and white tie event at a hotel. It is only when I arrive that I realize it is a Russian function. Immediately, my stomach contracts with tension. It appears all the great and good of Russian society will be here. At first I think he is not going to make an appearance. Maybe he is keeping a low profile until the trial is over. I know how he guards his privacy and I am sure that will be even more true now.

Then I realize with shock that the event is being held for him. The entire elite Russian community worldwide have come together to show solidarity at what they see as a political and Anti-Putin concocted trial. Guests are flying in from all over.

Now my heart is racing in my chest and I can barely stand still. A man comes over and sits on one of the stools.

I smile at him. “What can I get you?”

“Why don’t you surprise me?” he says, with a slow smile.

My smile dies a little. “How about Russian vodka?”

His smile widens. “Ah, beautiful and smart.”

I move away. “One Russian vodka coming up.”

I put the drink in front of him. “Hey, you’re not busy yet, why don’t you talk to me for a bit?”

I take a step back. “Yeah, sure.”

“So you live in New York, huh?”

“Yes, you?”

“I live in Monaco.”

I nod. “Nice.”

“Have you been?”

I shake my head.

“I have a yacht parked in the Riviera. Want to come spend a few days?”

I’m about to answer him, when I feel my hair stand on end. I turn my head and see Konstantin walking towards the bar. He is looking directly at me and his face is like thunder. I feel myself shrink. I know he is mad with me, but I never realized the extent of his fury. He stops at the bar and completely ignoring me he addresses the man.

“Yuri,” he says tightly.

“Ah, the man of the night,” Yuri says standing. “I was just talking to this very lovely barmaid.”

Konstantin turns to me, and there is an expression in his eyes I cannot decipher. I stand rooted to the spot.

“Hello, Raine,” he says softly.

“Ah, you know each other,” Yuri says. “I suppose this is my cue to melt away.”

“Yes, get lost,” Konstantin says rudely, not taking his eyes off me.

My eyes widen.

He stares at me hungrily. At that moment I know that he still wants me, but he won’t allow himself to be with me because of what I did to him.

“You look beautiful,” he says, his voice husky with emotion, then he strides away, his body erect and tall, without looking back. Even though I look hard, I never see him again for the rest of the night.

I will see him in court, I suppose.

Raine

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kJQP7kiw5Fk

The Gambler

* * *

“Do you swear to tell the truth and nothing but the truth?”

I place my hand on the bible, please God, forgive me, and say, “I do.”

I can’t help it. My eyes move to Konstantin. He’s wearing a dark suit, his face is impassive, and his eyes are on me. My gaze slides away. I need to be calm. I have rehearsed this many times. I will pretend he is not even here.

First the attorney for the defense comes up to me. Mr. Justin Horrowitz stands, a greying tall man, shoots his cuffs, and comes forward.

“Can you tell the Court what your relationship to the defendant is, Miss Fillander?”

“I’m not in a relationship with the defendant anymore.”

“But you were in one during the time this murder was committed, were you not?”

“Yes.”

“And you were with him on the day of the murder?”

“Yes.”

“Did you notice anything unusual about the defendant on that day? Was he nervous? Angry? Upset? Worried?”

“No.”

“In the time you knew the defendant would you have ever thought he could actually stab a man to death with a knife?”

“Objection, your honor. The witness is not a psychologist capable of making a proper analysis of the defendant’s likelihood to kill in the heat of the moment.”

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