The Mistress(2)

Since he had risen to the top, Vladimir had gained strength and amassed wealth at a meteoric rate, and was somewhere out in the stratosphere with nearly unlimited power and a fortune people could only guess at. And he enjoyed the fruits of his accomplishments. He liked owning the many toys he indulged himself with, his homes, his boats, fabulous sports cars, a plane, two helicopters he kept in constant use, moving around the world, the art collection that was his passion. Surrounding himself with beauty was important to him. He loved owning the best of everything.

He had little time for idle pursuits, but didn’t hesitate to enjoy himself when he could. Business was always foremost on his mind, and the next deal he was going to make, but he took time out now and then to play. He had few friends, only the important men he did business with, or the politicians he owned. He was never afraid of risk, and had no tolerance for boredom. His mind moved with lightning speed. And he had been with his current woman for seven years. With only the occasional rare exception, which was unusual for men of his ilk, he was faithful to her. He had no time for dalliances and little interest in them. He was satisfied with his companion, and their relationship served him well.

Natasha Leonova was without a doubt the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He had first seen her on a Moscow street, freezing in the Russian winter but young and proud, and he had liked her from the first moment he met her, when she resisted his attempts to help her, wanting to get to know her better. After a year of his relentless advances, she succumbed to him and had been his mistress since she was nineteen, and she was now twenty-six.

Natasha acted as hostess when needed, to the degree he wanted, never putting herself too far forward. She was a spectacular accessory and tribute to him. He required no more of her than that, although she was a bright girl. All he wanted of her were her presence, her beauty, and her availability to him at all times for whatever purpose he needed, without explanation. She knew better than to ask for information he didn’t volunteer. She waited for him where he wanted her to be, in whatever city, home, or boat, and he rewarded her handsomely for her presence and fidelity. She had never cheated on him, and would have been long gone if she did. It was an arrangement that suited them both. So much so that she was still there after seven years, far longer than either of them had expected or planned. She had become part of the finely tuned machine that made his life work, and she was important to him because of it. And they both knew the role they played in each other’s lives, and asked for nothing more than that. The balance between them had worked perfectly for years.

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Natasha had the grace of a dancer as she moved around the spectacular cabin of the yacht that was their home for several months of the year. She liked being on the boat with him, and the freedom it afforded them, being able to change locations at a moment’s notice, to go where they wanted, do what they wished. And when he was busy or flew to other cities for meetings, she did as she chose. Sometimes she left the boat for errands or shopping, or stayed onboard. Natasha understood perfectly the parameters of her life with him. She had learned what he expected of her and did it well. And in exchange he loved her flawless beauty and showing her off. She was always on display when they went out, like his Ferrari, or a rare jewel. Unlike other women in her position, Natasha was never difficult or demanding, never petulant. She was an object of envy for other men. She knew instinctively when to be silent and when to talk, when to keep her distance and when to be nearby. She read his moods perfectly, and was flexible and easy to get along with. She demanded nothing of him, so he gave her much, and was lavish with her. And although she appreciated and enjoyed everything he bestowed on her, she would have been satisfied with less, which was unheard of for a woman in her situation.

Natasha made no plans of her own, and knew not to ask questions about the men who visited him and the deals he made. He valued her discretion, her gentle ways, her companionship, and her stunning looks. She was his mistress, and he never promised her more. At times he treated her like a work of art in a museum that he wanted to show off. By virtue of her presence, she confirmed his status to other men, and she was a symbol of his good taste. She knew Vladimir for what he was to her, a kind, generous man when he wanted to be, and a dangerous one when not. And she had seen him switch from one mood to the other in an instant. She liked to believe that he was a good person beneath the hard exterior he was known for, but she never put it to the test. She liked her position in his life, and who he was, and admired him for all he’d accomplished.

Vladimir had rescued her from desperate poverty on the streets of Moscow at nineteen, and she never forgot the hardships of her life before him. She would not let anything interfere with the performance of her duties to him, or ignore what she owed him. She never wanted to go back to the life of destitution she had led before, and took no risks with the life she had now, thanks to him. She was safe and secure under his protection, and she let nothing jeopardize that. She was aware of who and what she was to him at all times. She asked for nothing more and didn’t need to. He was exceptional to her in the life they shared, and she was grateful to him for all he’d done for her.

Due to the nature of their life together, she lived in isolation from other women and friends. There was only room for Vladimir in her world, which was what he expected of her. She played by all his rules without regret or complaint, unlike other women in her situation who were in it for what they could get. Natasha wasn’t. She was intelligent, and knew her place and his limits. She was totally satisfied, and enjoyed their life together. And she never hungered to be more to him. As his mistress, she had everything she’d ever dreamed of, and more. She never missed having children, or even friends, or longed to be his wife. She needed nothing more than what they shared.