The flight home and the nightmare

"Move it, Mike. Get your ass in gear," I muttered.

It was an absolute struggle just to keep him moving through the terminal. He simply wasn’t used to traveling across multiple time zones the way I’d been doing for the last twenty years. To him, this was an exhausting ordeal; to me, it was just another Tuesday.

"I’m just so tired,” Mike mumbled, his feet dragging heavily against the linoleum. “I’ve crossed like five time zones in twenty four hours.”

I had to constantly urge him on, physically steering him forward as he was practically asleep on his feet.

"Listen to me," I said, trying to shock some life back into him. "In the past eleven months alone, I’ve crossed thirty five time zones and spent at least seventy four hours in the air traveling. It’s probably more time zones and more time in the air but ff I can keep moving, so can you."

Mike blinked at me, squinting through his heavy-lidded haze. "Do you have jet lag?" he croaked.

"Yes," I admitted grimly. "I do. Now keep walking."

By the time we finally made our way through customs and dragged ourselves over to the Lufthansa ticket counter, we were among only a few passengers left scattered in the entire terminal.

The ticket agent behind the desk looked up, her expression a mix of professional politeness and sheer exhaustion.

"Next, please," she said.

I stepped up to the counter. "I’d like two seats," I told her, my voice quiet. "But not near each other. And I’d prefer that my ticket is first class."

"Understood. Passports, please," she requested.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out my passports and slid them across the counter. As she looked at my Russian and Canadian passports, I watched her eyes widen slightly. She opened them, comparing the photos and names. Right there in front of her, she saw that I was a Russian diplomat with one name on one passport, and a Canadian Member of Parliament with an entirely different name on the other.

She paused, looking from the documents up to my face, and then back down. Without asking any questions, she quietly slipped the Russian passport aside and used my Canadian passport to get me a ticket.

"I'm processing the Canadian passport now," she said quiet enough for me to hear. Her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Thank you," I said.

She tapped a few keys, looking at my profile on her screen. "Well, due to your status as a frequent flyer with Lufthansa and the substantial amount of points you've racked up over your travels, your first-class seat is completely free." She then glanced over at Mike, who was practically snoring while standing up. "However, your companion’s seat is not. That will be four hundred seventy five Canadian dollars."

Mike jolted awake at the sound of the price. "Wait, what?" he stammered.

"You heard her," I said, nudging him.

With a heavy sigh, Mike pulled out his credit card out of his wallet. As he was doing so, he mumbled something about having to pay for his own ticket as his was paid for as he travelled to meet me

As the agent kept typing, her eyes shifting over my face. Without asking us for our preference, she decided to book us on a direct flight, even though there is usually a layover on this specific route. She had clearly noticed how incredibly tired I looked and acted, and I assumed she felt it was absolutely imperative that she book us directly to get us to our destination as fast as possible.

She handed the boarding passes to me with a soft, understanding smile. "Here are your boarding passes. I've put you on the direct flight rather than a layover. Get some rest on the flight if you can."

I took them, looking at her with deep appreciation. "Thank you," I said sincerely.

Then I looked down at the boarding pass, and my heart sank. The gate was miles away. We had only a few minutes to walk—or rather, sprint—a two and a half miles to the gate.

"We have to run," I told Mike, grabbing his sleeve.

"Run? Where?" he gasped.

"Two and a half miles to the plane. Now!"

By the time we finally arrived at the gate, gasping for breath and wet with sweat, the gate agents were already in the process of closing the ramp to the plane. The metal barrier was beginning to slide shut. The second we landed, I knew that I had to go to the hospital. I’d have to use the last of my gauze to protect the skin where I had my breast lift as my skin had split a little bit.

"Wait!" I called out. “We need to get home.”

Once they saw me, they froze. Recognition immediately washed over their faces. They stopped what they were doing, quickly checked our tickets, and waved us through.

"Right this way, Du ---- Ms. Smith,” the agent said, stepping aside. "Have a safe flight."

Mike and I headed down the jet bridge to the plane swiftly as I didn’t want to cause any further delays for the crew and staff. We found our seats soon after boarding, stored our small luggage in the overhead bin and within minutes we were in the air. I grabbed my crossbody bag and headed to the bathroom.

Once inside and door locked, I lifted my sundress in order to access my tits. I drained the sites, washed around the drain sites, washed where my skin split for the incision area of the breast lift and let the skin dry naturally. When the incision area dried, I gently lifted my tits a little bit, put the gauze on the area and gently let my tits drop into place. I washed my hands one last time and left the bathroom.

I tried to rest but I was uncomfortable and in pain. I knew better than to run after plastic surgery – especially after a breast lift. It wasn’t to the point where I needed to take Tylenol or Advil so I figured I’d close my eyes and try to rest. I fell asleep minutes later.

I was woken up hours later by a little turbulence. The pilots easily navigated te turbulence and we were out of it in a matter of minutes. Twenty minutes later, the flight attendants came around with the meals that came with the airfare. I wanted to brush my meal away but at this point, I needed to take some Advil. I just hoped that it wasn’t see food. When I opened the packaging, it wasn’t, thankfully. It was supposed to be meatloaf, mashed potatoes and green beans in a garlic and butter sauce. The only food that tasted what it was supposed to was the green beans with the garlic and butter sauce.

I took some Tylenol and walked around the plane a bit before a flight attendant came over to me.

“Ms. Smith? I’m sorry to be stopping you from your stroll but the pilots wanted to talk to you,” she said. “They heard about how many pilot licenses you hold.

“I guess I can spare them some time, right, Nora?” I said as I read her name tag. “Lead the way.”

“Of course,” she said.

After a brief walk, she used the phone on the wall and called into the cockpit.

“I have Ms. Smith with me,” she said. “Can you please unlock the door so I can send her in?”

As she hung up the phone, I heard a click from the door. She knocked twice and then pushed the door open.

“Hi, I’m Deppgrl Smith,” I said as I reached out my hand to shake their hands. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

“I’m Ryan and this is Rob my copilot. Our other pilots are on their rest time.”

“I’m sorry I missed them. May I ask why you guys asked me to come up?”

“We’ve heard that you hold over one hundred and eighty pilot licenses. This is the most we’ve heard someone ever having.”

“Well, aviation is something that I enjoy,” I lied. “Clearly, you guys understand the rush and the freedom in it.”

“It’s definitely thrilling,” Rob said.

“How did you get so many pilot licenses” Ryan asked.

“I travel so much for work and I tend to stay in multiple countries for long stretches at a time. It was easier for me to start in Italy as I was born there then Canada followed suit because I’m a naturalized citizen. From there, wherever work sent me, I took flying lessons and over time, I was able to earn my licenses.”

“What do you have to do to keep your licenses up to date in each country?”

“In between work trips and due to overtime, I take time off and revisit each country. I then go fly for the hours with an instructor the amount of hours required by each country. I also fly different aircraft….I can fly anything from a helicopter to a variety of fighter jets.”

“That is amazing!”

“Have you flown any important people?”

“I flew Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II here and in Britain on both my recreational and professional license. She was an absolute delight to fly and talk with. I miss her greatly.”

“Wow! That’s incredible!”

“It was truly quite the amazing experience.”

“We miss her as well. She was quite progressive in her later years.”

“That she was,” I said.

The conversation halted a little bit before Ryan spoke again.

“We called you up here to partly talk with you about your flying experiences but there is another passenger on board that knew you were on this flight. He was brought up to the door as we were talking. Apparently, he said that it’s a private conversation with you.”

“Great way to have an excuse, right?” I asked. “By the way, do I get my wings since I met you both?”

“You’ll get two wings since we were both up here,” Rob said. “Do you fly commercial flights or is it more professional for whatever line of work you do?”

“That’s great I get two wings!” I said. “It’s a mix of personal and professional but it all depends on the circumstances. I don’t want to assume that you know who I am but sometimes it’s more of I need to get myself out of sticky situations that are life threatening.”

Ryan and Rob looked at me before Ryan spoke.

“Yes, we know that you are the Grand Duches Marie Alexandrovna,” Ryan said. “You were flagged when your ticket was bought by the ticket agent. She is also Russian and part of her family is Russian – she knew who you were immediately. We received the message as you met the gate agents but once the message was read by both of us, it disappeared.”

“Does the rest of the flight crew know?” I asked. “Also, with all major airlines, I have spoken the higher ups to have it that way – my flagged identity gets deleted from the system. IT with the highest security are the only ones to access that information once its deleted. If my true identity were used, there wouldn’t be a flag however, if I provide both my Russian diplomatic passport along with another passport, the ticket agents are made aware to use the other one, flag my true identity as who I am but to use my other identity.”

“We’re the only ones who know as we have a higher security than the rest of the flight crew,” Ryan said. “We’re also sworn to privacy when we have diplomats – known or unknown – as well as MPs on board.”

I nodded my head.

“Thank you both so much for everything. I hope that with your sworn secrecy, you don’t discuss us meeting with anyone but yourselves – that includes family and other pilots.”

“Due to our contracts and sworn secrecy, we can’t discuss meeting important with anyone other than our pilot that was in the cockpit. If we do discuss it privately, we use secure rooms at airports and in our homes.”

I nodded my head again and left the cockpit. As I exited and closed the door, there was Matteo.

“Hey. So Bob reached out to me to let me know that you would be on this flight. How he knew is beyond me. After we land, he had me promise him that I would take you to the hospital to be checked out. He said that some woman who owned the hospital you were in while in her hospital said that there would be two cars. One would be blue and the other would be silver. We’d have the blue car. Are you traveling with someone?”

“Matteo, it’s so good to see you. Remind me to text Bob to give him some shit for texting you. I had surgery recently and Bob knew that traveling would aggravate it somewhat – I’m ok though. Good. Glad there’s going to be a car there for us. And yes but also no for traveling with someone. My brother texted an old friend and neighbor to meet me in Italy to be my travel companion due to his past military experience and ability to travel across multiple time in such a short amount of time but he’s failing epically.”

“Tall skinny dude with blond hair in economy?”

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“He’s been out cold since we got in the air. The only time he woke up was to eat and then he fell back asleep again.”

“How he was able to cross multiple time zones in the military and still function is beyond me. In eleven months, I crossed well over thirty and functioning far better.”

“Wow.”

I looked at my watch.

“It looks like we’re on schedule and we’re due to land in the next twenty minutes.”

“I’ll see you when we land. I’m back in Economy as well.”

“Heads up though, Matteo? Be expected for a surprise when we land.”

He nodded and then we headed to our seats. When I got back to mine, I organized all my stuff, double checked I had all of my passports, identifications and other documentation. Thankfully, I did. I buckled up and was ready to land. Thanks to Ryan and Rob, we had a smooth landing. Once taxied to the airport, I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbed my stuff from the overhead bin, threw on my crossbody bag and disembarked the plane.

I headed towards Customs and waited for both Matteo and Mike. Under the lights inside the airport, Matteo looked exhausted and Mike was now wide awake. Mike would have his ass handed to him since it’s now midnight and he slept for about ten hours…it’ll take him a few days to adjust back. They were talking and it was clear that Matteo was explaining to Mike what was going to happen once we saw the cars. Mike didn’t look happy at all and he said so when they reached me.

“I thought that I was going to drop you off at home.”

“Were you asked to by either my brother or I? No. I’m appreciative that I had a partial flying companion but at the same time, I’m still incredibly hurt of how you treated me the last few times we saw each other before my leaving to New Zealand. You will be brought home miles from me. I’ve been nonstop since landing in New Zealand and the last thing I had time for was dealing with the hurt that you caused. Yes, it was unintended but words matter.”

“But I came all the way to Italy and back!”

“With a brand new passport, a one way ticket to Italy and a one way ticket to Newfoundland paid for by other governments. The only money you spent yourself was the ticket here. Go to the main exit and wait for us.”

Mike nodded then did as he was told and went through Customs alone. As he did so, I pulled Matteo aside.

“I’m not who you think I am,” I began. “We may be stopped due to the passports I handed to Customs when we landed in Newfoundland. I gave my Russian diplomatic one and of course my main Canadian passport. Both are under separate names. My Russian passport has my true identity but this Canadian one doesn’t. I have a second Canadian one that has my true identity. Most of my passports have different names.”

“Wait. What in the actual fuck, Deppgrl?” he just about shouted.

“Be quiet!” I said. “Go home, shower, eat and get some rest. In a few hours come over and I’ll tell you what I can legally tell you.”

“I can’t wrap my brain around this but once I’ve slept, I’ll come over.”

I nodded and led us towards the main exit. I had hoped Mike could stay awake on his feet or even doze off on a bench. Thankfully, he was awake and on his feet waiting for us. Once we all stepped outside, both sedans that Sera sent us pulled up.

“The silver one is for you, Mike,” I said. “It’ll take you directly home. Matteo will be with me in the blue one – I’ll be dropped off first then he will.”

Mike nodded.

“Here’s an envelope to hand to your driver when you get home. Whoever sent the cars paid for their time, fuel, mileage and tip. An extra tip doesn’t hurt as not everyone tips a driver.”

Mike nodded again and mumbled is thanks. I nodded in return. When Matteo and I got to the blue sedan, the driver immediately stepped out, popped the trunk and greeted us.

“Duchess,” he said as he bowed his head slightly. “Sir.”

“Hello, Dom,” I said as I handed him my large bag. “I’m packing light this time around.”

“A complete shock!” he said as we laughed. Matteo threw his overnight bag into the trunk and closed it.

I headed to the front passenger seat to sit next to Dom. I was thankful that he was the driver as he was always so friendly and respectful. Matteo sat behind me. Once we were all in Dom’s car and had our seatbelts on, Dom headed in the direction of my house. It was a quick drive, happily. When he parked, he went to the trunk to get my bag as I grabbed my crossbody bag and got out.

“I’ll be back in about half an hour to bring you to the hospital. Does that work?” he said as he handed me my bag and my keys that were mailed to him.

“It does, thanks, Dom,” I said. “I’ll take a shower, change the gauze, dress and meet you back out here.”

“Sounds good, Duchess,” he said.

Matteo took the front seat as I unlocked my house. Before I could close and lock the door behind me, Dom was on his way to drop off Matteo. When I did enter my house and lock the door behind me, I dropped my bags and headed upstairs to the bathroom. As I was going upstairs, I peaked my head into each room to see the state of each room. Bob came by three times a month to dust and vacuum my house while I was in Europe. My laundry that I had left behind was washed, dried and put away.

I eventually made it to my bathroom. I kicked off my flip flops, peeled the sundress over my head and took the gauze off from where the skin split a little bit. That pull hurt and I knew that the water was going to be horrendous. After turning on the water, I grabbed a new bar of mild soap and my most basic shampoo and conditioner. I checked the water again, adjusted it and hopped in.

The water felt so good on my skin. I just stood under the water for a few minutes before I started to wash and condition my hair. I rinsed everything out, washed my body with the soap and used face wash for my face. I stood in the water for a few more minutes to rinse off. I didn’t want to get out but I knew Dom would be back soon to come pick me up. I dried off, applied deodorant, brushed my hair and teeth and headed into my room.

I raided my closet and drawers just to pick panties, jean shorts and a loose fitting t-shirt. I got dressed, put my flip flops back on and headed downstairs. I grabbed two bottles of water for Dom and I, grabbed my keys and my crossbody bag and headed out. I locked the door behind me. Not even two minutes later, Dom arrived and in his personal car. I hopped in.

“All ok, Marie?” he asked.

“I hope so,” I said. “I had plastic surgery about a week ago – eye and eye brow lift as well as a breast lift. I don’t think the drains that were placed in my tits are helping much and my skin where the stitches were under my tits tore a little bit. Think there could be some kind of infection. I’d rather get looked over to be safe.”

“Oh wow. Do you want me to stay with you?”

“I’d appreciate that, friend. We could be a while.”

“I’ve got nothing to do but be with you.”

“Thank you.”

We parked and walked in. I checked myself in with my Candian license and insurance card with my true identity. The hospital has two charts for me – one as Deppgrl Smith and the one under Marie Alexdrovna Romanov. I hoped by using my id with my true identity would get me in faster.

“Why are you here, ma’am?” the ER receptionist asked.

“I believe I have an infection from plastic surgery.”

“Can I see your identification please?”

“Sure,” I said as I handed it over.

She hummed and hawed then hawed then hummed.

“Don’t merge the charts,” I said. “There’s a reason why they are separate.”

“Oh. Ok, I can do that,” she said. “Is the healthcare card up to date?”

“It is,” I said.

After checking me in, adding the reason why I was wanting to be seen and being handed back my id and health card back, she told us to have a seat.

“Thank you,” I said as we walked away.

We didn’t have a chance to sit when I was called.

“Marie?” a nurse called out.

“Coming!” I said.

We were brought back to an exam room.

“What’s going on, Marie?” Susanna asked me.

“Well, I had an eye and eyebrow lift and a breast lift within the past week. Drains were inserted under my tits but there’s a little bit of an odor. Stitches were removed but the skin split earlier and there’s a small leak. The fluid that’s coming out of the drains and from where the skin split is mostly clear but with a slight pink color.”

“We’ll check you out to see what’s going on,” she said. “Do you want your companion to stay in the room or do you want him to step out?”

“Dom will be staying.”

Susanna nodded and asked if I could take my top off and I complied. As I was doing so, she put on exam gloves. Dom couldn’t stop staring at my lifted tits. I had to chuckle.

“I am about to examine you. Do I have your permission to do so?”

“You do.”

Susanna nodded then proceeded to examine me. I knew that it was a medical necessity and that the ER doctor would as well.

“It does appear that there’s a mild infection that’s draining from your breasts,” she said. “Since I can’t officially diagnose you, the doctor will have to. I’ll send one over as soon as one is available.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome, Duchess,” she said as she took off the exam gloves. “I’ll get you an exam gown. Have it open in the front but you can cover yourself up until the doctor is ready to examine you.”

I nodded. She tossed the used exam gloves in the garbage, grabbed a gown and handed it to me. She turned her back to me as Dom helped me get it on and helped me cover myself.

“I’m all set, Susanna, thank you,” I said.

She nodded, opened the door and left.

“Why did you get a breast life, eye lift and a brow lift?”

“Well, when I went to Italy to search for Rob, I entered the country as Marie and searched boldly for him as Marie. I knew it was a mistake but the surgery was to barely change how I looked so when those who I had spoken with saw me in the future, I’d look familiar but not identical to how I did before. I also had my hair dyed thinking it’d be a bigger distraction than the surgery.”

“Your hair and your beautiful tits are a distraction itself. God damn!”

“Red doesn’t suit me and straight men are often distracted by my tits.”

Dom laughed hard and loud as he agreed that straight men are distracted by my tits. We then heard a knock on the door. Dom headed over and opened the door, revealing a doctor that I had seen many years ago, Dr. Diana Figeroa.

“Marie. What have I told you about plastic surgery? You don’t need it.”

“It wasn’t full on surgery, Diana. It was a few tweaks,” I said.

“Your face looks stunning already and your bruising has fading significantly around your eyes. Mind if I examine your incision site and drain site?”

“Go right ahead,” I said as she threw on gloves.

She came into my space to check both drains and the incision sites. She stepped back to get a kidney tray to see what comes out of the drain.

“This may hurt a little bit but it isn’t my intention,” she said as she started to drain a little bit. “Susanna said there was a pink hue to the clear fluids that came out and thought it was an infection. She is right….there is a small infection.”

“Of course there is,” I sighed.

“I am going to remove these drains, flush the area then look at the incision sight, ok?”

“You got it, boss,” I said.

“You are one chill royal,” she chuckled.

She lifted each tit, removed the gauze and sighed.

“Slight infection here, too. Don’t worry. I’ll flush the area as well, apply antibiotic ointment, use skin safe glue and steri strips, ok? Check all the areas each and call me if there’s any change.”

I nodded. She removed the gloves, tossed them and went to get her supplies. A few minutes later, she arrived back with everything. It took about ten minutes to remove and flush the drain sites and about eight minutes for the incision sites. She covered the drain sites with a little bit of antibiotic ointment then followed up with steri strips then skin glue.

“I have a prescription of oral antibiotics for you here with me as well,” Diana said. “We don’t want the infection to get any worse than what it is. Take one tablet three times a day for seven days. I also have a prescription for Ibuprofen 800 mg in case you need it for painAre you up to date with your Depo Provera birth control injection?”

“You are amazing, Diana. I’ll definitely take the antibiotic as I don’t want to be any more miserable and uncomfortable than I already am. The Ibuprofen might be beneficialI think I’m due in a few weeks for the shot.”

“I have a syringe ready and here with me. Let’s get it taken care of as a precautionary measure.”

I got up, dropped my shorts just past my hip, lifted the gown and turned around. I felt the cool alcohol spread over my skin. A moment later, I felt the needle enter my skin and the contents of the syringe enter my body. Seconds later, she was finished, applied the bandage and said that I was all set.

“And don’t forget yogurt with the antibiotic!”

“I won’t!”

“Get dressed and I’ll get your discharge papers started, ok?”

I nodded and she left. I got off the exam table and Dom helped me get dressed.

“When Diana gets back with your discharge papers, I’ll step into the hallway to call Aditi to see if she can make us dinner for us to pick up on our way back to your house,” Dom offered. “That sound good to you?”

“That would be perfect,” I sighed out of exhaustion. “I don’t know if the restaurant will still be open but it’s worth a try.”

“What’s worth a try?” Diana asked as she reappeared.

“Dom reaching out to Aditi to see if we can pick up dinner on our way home,” I said as Dom stepped out.

“No wonder you’re friends with Aditi. She and her husband have amazing food.”

“Part of it is her food but mostly she and her husband are truly amazing people,” I said. “Aditi has been beneficial to what I do. She’s done what I do many years and has taught me what I know.”

“And Dom?” as she handed me my discharge paperwork.

“Eye candy and occasional fuck buddy,” I said. “He’s also a good friend.”

“Good lay?”

“Amazing. Talk about sex being so good my eyes roll to the back of my head, screaming and multi-orgasmic.”

“Take a day or so to heal before your eyes roll to the back of your head, ok?”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“What does?” Dom asked.

“Her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her toes curling.”

“Marie, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Oh, you always say that when you’re balls deep in me, Dom.”

“Even when fully clothed, you’re going to be the death of me. Aditi said that if we leave now, we can make it before she closes and cleans up.”

“Diana, thank you so much for taking care of me. I’ll check the areas a few times a day and keep you posted. If push comes to shove, Dom will help.”

“Sounds good, Marie. Dom, take good care of her.”

“Will do, Doc.”

Dom and I shook Diana’s hand and we left. It was a quiet walk to the car.

“What did you order from Aditi?”

“She said that she was going to give us some of everything. I told her that we were fine with that.”

“Good. Her food is amazing.”

“It is. Is it true that Aditi taught you everything you needed to know for your government work and spy work?”

“Most of it. I did have to learn the technology, of course, through each government.”

“Did you get training in luring men in to have sex with you?”

“Really, Dom?” I asked. “That’s extremely insulting and rude.”

“I’m sorry.”

“When we stop at the restaurant, take me home. We’ll divvy up the food and then you’ll go home. I don’t need your help with my recovery.”

“Marie, I’m really sorry. I didn’t say it to be insulting and rude.”

“I know but you said it anyway.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I accept your apology.”

For the rest of the twenty five minute drive, it was silent. Dom kept looking at me from the corner of his eye as he was driving. I ignored him and didn’t cry though I desperately wanted to. I knew Dom didn’t mean it but he said it and it still hurt.

When we arrived at Aditi’s restaurant, he parked leaving the car running and ran inside to pick up dinner. It took him a few minutes to get the food and when he came back, he had two bags of food.

“Aditi split the food for us. Your name is on yours. She clearly knew what was up before I stepped foot inside.”

“Ok.” I didn’t tell him that I texted her when he wasn’t looking at me while he was driving.

A few minutes later, we arrived to my house. I gathered my crossbody purse, my discharge papers, my prescriptions and my food. I slammed the door without saying anything. When I got to my door, I unlocked it and entered. I dropped the food into my kitchen and texted Aditi.

Thank you so much for the food, friend. I appreciate you getting it ready so late in the night. It’s great to be eating your cooking again after almost a year. I’m home safe and sound and Dom is heading to his own home. I couldn’t deal with him any longer. He didn’t mean to be insulting and rude but he was because he said it out loud. I’ll eat, take my meds, hydrate and go to bed.

You’re very welcome, Deppgrl. I’m always happy and available to cook for you at any time of the day. Glad you’re home safely. Once you told me what he said, I gave him shit for talking to that way. Expect big gestures from him though I demanded that he didn’t. I’m very happy that you sent him on his way as he doesn’t deserve any part of you. Please do take care of yourself. Let me know if you need anything.

Thank you.

I put my phone down and ripped open the bag so I could get the food out quickly. Aditi gave me so many containers of beef, chicken and vegetable samosas and buttered chicken. I hate about half of the samosas and a quarter of the buttered chicken before I felt stuffed. I sat there contemplating how thankful I was for Aditi. She was the only one who understood what this life is like. I eventually got up, put the food in the fridge, took the antibiotic and Ibuprofen then headed to bed for the night.

 

 

 

 

The flight over the Atlantic

Once the plane took off and was at altitude, the steady hum of the engines filled the cabin as we leveled out, the wings slicing through the sky. The hum was soothing though irritating at the same time. Boats across the ocean took forever and a land vehicle wouldn’t work due to being the wrong vehicle to cross the ocean so a plane was the best way to get back to Ontario

Suddenly, I heard the muffled sound of an explosion.  A bright orange fireball erupted violently on the ground, tearing through the area with incredible force. I saw the reflection of the fireball from the window. The reflection immediately made me look down to the general area from where the explosion was.

Far below, the landscape stretched out in a quiet, sprawling grid of roads and buildings, dotted with the tiny, faint pinpricks of streetlights. I knew right away that Marlon had taken care of the car. Marlon not only took out the car but several buildings as well. He always helped me out and always stuck to our plans but he gets slightly carried away.

"Wow!" I said.

Unfortunately, it got Mike’s attention. He immediately shifted in his seat and looked out his window as well, searching the ground below. It didn't take him long to spot the massive, flickering orange glow. He watched the flames dance from the distance as a thick column of smoke began to plume upward into the air.

"That is impressive," Mike said, his voice quiet as he stared at the where the explosion took place. "Is that the car we used?"

I just nodded my head to confirm that it was. I kept my mouth shut, leaning back into my seat. I was trying to look casual while my eyes subtly scanned the cabin. I looked at the seams in the wall panels, the overhead light fixtures, and the small air vents, wondering if there was a hidden microphone tucked away somewhere out of sight. I didn’t know if the plane was bugged or not, but after living my life traveling back and forth between different countries, I wasn’t going to risk saying anything until I knew it was safe. Mike kept staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

A few hours later, I raided my bag to find my equipment to detect listening and recording devices. These were my personal devices and were a higher quality than the ones provided to me from the Italian government. As I stood up from my seat, I turned the devices on and went through the main cabin of the plane. I didn’t find anything so I headed towards the bathroom and didn’t find anything there either. Despite not finding anything, I still didn’t feel comfortable discussing anything about what I did since landing in New Zealand. I’d be more comfortable either out in the open at a large field or at my home. However, if it were at my house, I would have to check my house first though.

Mike eventually fell asleep. I stayed awake as I can’t sleep in a plane. I familiarized myself with the plane and due to this phone that Roberto gave me, I was able to pull up the plans of the plane without using internet connection. I wanted to see if there any places that I may need to relocate if anyone on board – crew or otherwise – knew of my identity and wanted to blow it. I ended up connecting my phone to the outlet connected to my armrest and pulled out a book. I was almost done with it by the time he woke up.

“Hey,” Mike mumbled as he was waking up. “Where are we over the ocean?”

“Just halfway over,” I sighed. The pain and the pressure that I was feeling so soon after the surgery was super uncomfortable. I groaned in pain. I knew that I need to take some kind of pain relief medication and there was no way that I was going through customs on strong pain meds from Sera and Elena’s plastic surgery hospital. I got up from my seat, grabbed my crossbody bag and started for the galley. “I’ll be back momentarily. I just need to stretch my legs.”

Mike nodded though he knew something was up. When I arrived at the galley, I spoke with the head flight attendant.

“I’m so sorry to bother you. I’m in seat 3A and I’m getting a little hungry. I also have a bit of headache and want to take some Advil – my doctor wants me to eat before taking it. Are you able to drop a snack and some water off at my seat while I’m using the bathroom?” I asked.

“Yes, Duchess,” he said.

“Shhhhh, Martin!” I quietly begged as I read his name tag. “I expect the staff to know my identity due to my passport but I don’t want the rest of the travelers to know. A pseudonym that I’ve used in the past is “DeppGrl Smith”. My travel companion has known me as that for years and just recently found out my true identity. Can you please speak with the other flight attendants about this? I’d be appreciative of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Smith,” he said. “I understand your request for. And yes, I’ll talk to the rest of the flight attendants and pilots about this. I’ll ask the pilots to contact ground control when we get closer of your request to be more anonymous.”

“Thank you,” I said. “No rush to get the snack and beverage to my seat as I’ll be a few minutes. If my travel companion would like anything, I’ll pay for it as well. I’ll make sure I square up long before we land.”

“Of course,” he nodded.

I headed to the bathroom. When I got in, I closed and locked the door. I hung up my purse, lifted my dress and released the drains in my breasts that Dr. Aris and Dr. Welsh inserted. I sighed in relief that some of the pressure was released. I knew that I’d feel better once we landed and used ice. I knew that Mike needed to be shuttled to his place once we landed and I would need to be brought to my local hospital to be checked out as I fear for a possible infection. I closed the drains, washed the areas, used the bathroom, washed my hands, grabbed my purse and left the bathroom.

I made it back to Mike about fifteen minutes after I left him.

“All ok?” he asked. “I asked the flight attendants about you and they all said that you were ok.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I sighed. “I needed to take care of a few things from my surgery a few days ago.”

“Holy fuck! Are you ok?” he asked.

“Sore but fine. Once we land, you’ll get brought home and I’ll head to the hospital to get examined again,” I said. “It wasn’t life threatening surgery.”

“Necessary?”

“Yes, necessary. We’re leaving it at that.” I said. “As for stuff about New Zealand and everything after that, it’ll be a conversation for another time.”

He nodded as I sat down. The head flight attendant came around to drop off meals to both Mike and I. When he arrived to me and was placing food and a large bottle of water, I gave him four hundred and seventy five euros. He opened his mouth and before he could say anything, I did.

“I can’t thank you enough for your kindness for bringing meals to us. I hope it’s enough for the food, beverages, the time it took for you to heat everything up and bring it over,” I said as I handed him the money. With my other hand, I slid five envelopes under the fabric that covered the card he used for the other flight attendants. However, there was only three hundred euros in those envelopes. I had given Martin four hundred to cover the small cost of the food (which was about twenty five euros) but he had received more due to being the head flight attendant as well as speaking to the entire flight crew with my request to be called ‘DeppGrl Smith’. He didn’t have to but he did.

“Thank you, Ms. Smith,” he said with a wink to acknowledge the envelope under the fabric. “I appreciate you paying for your meals before leaving as well as the generous tip.”

I nodded my head.

“What was all of that about?” Mike asked as he was eating.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” I said.

I opened my food to see that it was eggplant rollatini in a marinara sauce, tortellini in a cream sauce, garlic bread and a side salad. It was great as plane food goes but too salty for my liking. I thought that I should see a cardiologist while I was at my local hospital after getting checked for infection from my plastic surgery locations.

After eating and having some of my water, I took the bottle of Advil from my purse and poured three onto my hand. I closed the lid, popped the Advil into my mouth and took a swig of my water. I tossed the bottle of Advil back into my purse, twisted the lid of the water bottle back on, reclined my seat and closed my eyes. I hoped that this would relay a message to Mike that I wanted to get some sleep. Thankfully, it worked. I heard him begin to snore minutes later. After he was asleep for an hour, I got up and went to the bathroom again. The pressurized air was beyond uncomfortable on my stomach and breasts but not so much my eyes.

Once inside the bathroom, I lifted my dress to access the drains in my breasts. I opened them and released the drainage. It was slightly pink but looked good. I closed them, washed the area around the drains and rinsed the sink. I adjusted my dress and headed back to my seat. My tray was cleared and put back as was Mike’s. I sat down and pulled up the screen in front of me to see what the status was of our flight. We were ninety minutes from Newfoundland, Canada. I forgot that we had a quick layover there before flying to Ontario. Usually there is a layover on the way to Ontario from Newfoundland but I felt that with my Russian diplomat status, we could get a direct flight there. Again, I called out to all of the deities I could name in eighty five minutes.

I had another fifteen deities to name before we landed but I was able to finish when Mike, the rest of the passengers and I collected our personal belongings from our seats and overhead bins.

"Finally, that's done," I said, slinging my pack over my shoulder. "I actually managed to name all eighty five."

Mike rolled his eyes playfully. "I still don't know how you got through all of them with a crying and screaming baby two rows back."

“It wasn’t easy,” I said. “I hate screaming and crying babies.”

I thanked each cabin crew member as we exited. "Thank you so much, have a wonderful day," I told them as we stepped onto the stairs that lead us to the tarmac.

“Unfortunately and yet fortunately, we landed but we in Newfoundland as a layover,” I said. “Clearly, we still need to fly to Ontario. Typically, there’s a layover to that flight as well but I’m hoping we get a direct flight.”

"A direct flight would definitely make things easier," he agreed. "How long of a flight is it?"

“It’s a nine and half to ten and a half hour flight,” I said. “It varies on the weight of the plane and the weather.”

“Let’s hit customs and get our tickets,” he said.

I nodded in agreement.

Heading home

My bag, packed tight with all the documentation I had spent so much energy acquiring, made me a little nervous as it wasn’t safe while I was asleep. I lay flat on my back in the dark, my hand draped protectively over it. Every rustle of the fabric and paper seemed to echo in the quiet room. I knew that I wasn’t going to sleep well that night. My mind was spinning, a chaotic loop of strategies and worst-case scenarios. I knew, rationally, that I desperately needed the sleep. My body was exhausted, and I was going to need all of the energy I could gather for the next few days. In a few hours, I’d be heading back to Rome, step into the marble corridors of power, and face Parliament.

When the morning finally came, I sat up on the edge of my hospital bed, knowing I had to reach out to Rob, Vic, and—unfortunately—Thomas. I needed to let them know I’ll be out of the hospital tomorrow morning, but that I won't be stopping by to see them anytime soon.

Historically, Italy had a reputation for being fair and accommodating when diplomats decided to step away from government work. However, I wasn't sure how the government would react to me leaving them, especially with my Russian family connections. I hoped and prayed that it would work out.

At this point in time, I can no longer rely on Sera and Elena. I had unintentionally burned that bridge just by coming to their plastic surgery hospital, especially since some of the staff had seen us together.

That left me with only one person I could try to reach, though I had no idea if they would even help me. Things hadn't ended well between us before I headed to New Zealand. With no one else to turn to, I had to turn to Mike, but it would be in the morning. I knew my brother was still nearby, but I didn't want him involved in another governmental issue of me leaving government work.

I grabbed my phone to send a text to Rob, Vic and Thomas as a group.

“I’m leaving Naples in the morning and heading north. There are some things that I need to take care of. I won’t be seeing the three of you for a long time. Thomas, I expect you to keep Rob out of trouble and if you need anything, reach out to Bob. Vic, go home to your wife; we’re done. Rob, listen to my brother.”

After I hit ‘send’, I went through my contacts in my phone and blocked each of the three men I texted, cutting the ties until I could get out of Italy. With that finished, I slid my hand beneath the mattress of my hospital bed, searching until my fingers brushed against the sleek, cool surface of the smart phone Roberto had hidden there for me. I was grateful that it not only was a new phone but it was also an unlisted phone number. It only took a few minutes to transfer all of my contacts over to it. Once the new phone was fully up, I immediately sent my brother a text so he’d have it.

“Hey. This is the only number to reach me at now. I’ll be destroying the other phone when I’m on the road. Please don’t reach out yet as I’ve got some things to take care of. Rob, Vic and Thomas know to contact you until further notice.”

I put the phone down and tried again to get some sleep but it wasn’t going to come. I just stared at the ceiling for hours, watching the shadows shift as the night slowly wore away.

When I saw the sun rise, I knew it was time. I got up, showered, dressed in my favorite sun dress, brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, applied deodorant and packed the rest of my stuff into my bag. I slung my bag that held my wallet and passports over my shoulder, then I grabbed the handle of my bag and started wheeling it to the front.

There was a brand new receptionist sitting behind the front desk. She looked up as I approached, her fingers hovering over her keyboard.

"Good morning," she said, pulling up my file. "Are you checking out?"

"Yes," I replied, keeping my voice level.

I had to go through the process of checking out, signing the final release forms, and verifying my details. Every signature felt like a milestone. By the time I was done, I walked out through the automatic doors. Sure enough, there was a car waiting out front for me. It was one last gift from Thomas for a long time—a quiet gesture of protection, or perhaps just his way of saying goodbye.

I walked up to it, opened the passenger door, and reached down. I found the keys under the floor mat in the front passenger seat. With the keys in hand, I loaded my bags into the back, hopped in, and started the engine. I set the GPS to the Parliament’s address. It was going to take a bit longer than the normal two hours due to the location of the building being in the center of the city but it was going to be worth the drive. I felt lighter after leaving government work.

As I drove, I mentally prepared myself and practiced what I was going to say. I thought of offering up my citizenship, my Italian passports or whatever else they wanted me to do – as long as it was within reason. When I got a little closer, I sped a bit as I was anxious. My hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, and my foot pressed heavier on the gas pedal. The heavy bag on the passenger seat next to me was a silent, looming presence. I kept repeating my arguments in my head, searching for the exact combination of words that would let me trade my work for freedom. As the historic Roman skyline began to break through the horizon, my heart hammered against my ribs. I was heading straight into the lion's den, and there was no turning back now.

I eventually made it and parked. Thankfully, there was a space right out front of the Parliament building. I grabbed my phone and my crossbody bag. When I exited the car, I locked it and headed inside. The amount of security I went through was indescribable, but I understood the reasoning. Once inside, I remembered that I hadn’t texted Mike. I knew that I was going to be ok without him as I headed to ask to speak to someone.

“Bongiorno, madam,” a friendly receptionist said when I arrived at the counter. “How can I help you?”

"Bongiorno, madam,” I said. “I’d like to speak with Ignazio La Russa or Lorenzo Fontana. Hopefully one or the other are available but I prefer both of them. Please let them know that Marie Alexdrovna Romanov is here.”

“Normally, they are unavailable to the public however, they both have been aware of you being in the country,” she said. “Have a seat and I’ll page them to the secure conference room.”

“No guards,” I said.

“Excuse me?” she asked. “What do you mean no guards?”

“I meant exactly that,” I said. “If I could travel all across the European Union – especially in Russia – without protection, they can walk into the lobby and back to their office without guards. No guards or I walk.”

“No guards it is then,” she sighed.

I found a seat in the corner of the lobby. I counted the security cameras and they were all pointed at me. Security teams were already there but once I demanded no guards on Ignazio and Lorenzo, more security came into the lobby. All eyes were on me and hands were on their service weapons. What was I going to do as I sat there waiting for all of eternity for both Ignazio and Lorenzo? I was just going to wait there. Since I have no patience whatsoever, I got up to tell the receptionist that “no guards meant no guards” , Ignazio and Lorenzo entered the lobby. Once Ignazio had eyes on me, I saw a vein in his neck pulsate.

“Clear the lobby of the guards and security,” he bellowed. “Clear it! NOW!!!”

The receptionist looked at him baffled.

“Clear the lobby of the guards and security,” he repeated. His and Lorenzo’s guards and security left the lobby. He then turned to the receptionist. “No guards means no guards. You are relieved of your job effectively immediately. Get your personal belongings, hand in your badges, keys and secure phone. All other items will be tossed in the dumpster at the end of the business day. The second you walk out of this building, your credentials will be deleted and if there is any sign of you trying to access anything relating to this building, you will be arrested on charges of espionage! You are permanently banned from entering the building and the property. If you walk, jog or drive nearby, you are to cross the road immediately. If not, you will be arrested on the spot. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” she stammered before shutting down her computer. She ran to the back.

“Marie, thank you for asking for us,” Lorenzo said quietly as he came to shake my hand. “I do apologize for her assumption that you are a danger to us. It was risky for you to use your true identity when you walked in but it alerted both Ignazio and I that it’s important.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I appreciate that, sir, however, it’s imperative that I speak with the both of you. Is there a place where the three of us can speak privately? No guards, no listening devices, no cameras, no nothing – just the three of us.”

“Is this ok with you, Iggy?” Lorenzo asked. “I’m fine with it.”

“It’s fine with me,” Ignazio stated. “I trust Marie more than I trust my wife and I hide nothing from my wife…..unless it deals with matters dealt here at the Parliament.”

“Lead the way, gentlemen,” I said.

They lead me down the hallway that they came from. People that had previously down that hallway went into their offices or into the offices of others once Ignazio cleared the lobby. He was a wonderful gentleman but understandably strict. At the end of the hallway, we headed into a secured office that both Ignazio and Lorenzo used to recruit me nearly thirty years ago when I was a teen. We entered the room the room and I locked it behind us. The lock deactivates the recording devices. Once we all sat down and was situated, I began my piece.

“Iggy, Lorenzo, I need out of the business,” I began. “I’m in my forties and I can’t work on my business while working for different governments and their agencies. I’m sure that you’ve heard that I left working for the Russian Federation’s government and it was rough getting out. It became extremely difficult once they verified my DNA results of me being a distant relative of the Romanov family. I have been banned from the country for the next fifteen years though I have permanent diplomatic immunity, a permanent diplomatic passport and barely any governmental recognition of my heritage.”

“What would you like to happen, Mare-Mare?” Lorenzo asked using a nickname that he gave me while in university.

“I would like to put in a formal request to step down from working for the Italian government here and worldwide. I am happy to give up my Italian diplomatic passport and status as well as hand in any Italian passport that you want me to hand in.”

“That’s it?” Ignazio asked.

“That’s it. Well, I’ll hand over all documents that I have in my possession to you guys, all electronics connected to me working for the government to you guys and get debriefed.”

“Do you have everything you will give up?” Lorenzo asked.

I stood up and dumped my crossbody bag on the table. I grabbed the classified documents, listening devices, hand held devices, Italian diplomatic passport and my diplomatic dentification.

“It’s all here,” I said.

“We trust you,” Lorenzo said.

I pulled out my new phone that Roberto had left me at the hospital last night. I created an email sent to the both of them stating what was discussed, what I handed in and what I was giving up. Before continuing, I had an important question.

“Do I get to keep my citizenship and my two passports; Deppgrl Smith and Larissa Barlowe?” I asked. Both men nodded their heads in agreement.

I went back to the email to include that I was keeping my citizenship as well as my two passports. I proofread my email twice and then submitted it.

“As of last night, we knew that you were on your way and called a friend of yours,” Lorenzo said. “His name is Mike. He’s in Iggy’s office waiting for you. We read him in a little bit of your visit and the reason why he was called in. We were explicit in telling him that he isn’t allowed to discuss any of this with you or anyone else he knows.”

“Thank you for calling him in to pick me up,” I sighed. “I appreciate the heavy handedness in telling him that he isn’t allowed to discuss this with anyone – including me.”

Ignazio and Lorenzo nodded their heads. I stepped out of that secure room. Ignazio’s administrative assistant was just outside the door to escort me to Ignazio’s office to meet with Mike before we both left. It was a silent but brief walk to his office and I was grateful for the silence. I hadn’t seen Mike in about six months at this point. I wondered if he moved or still lives immediately next to me. Whatever the case may be, I had to leave Italy right away. The car and my hotel room had to be bugged at this point. I knew that the time that my foot stepped onto the pavement just outside of the Parliament building, the entire government would know that I was in the country and stepped down from doing work for it.

“Grand Duchess,” Mike kinda bowed his head in respect towards my title. “ow can I be of service to you?”

“You can call me Deppgrl since that’s how you’ve known me,” I chuckled. “Just because I’m distant royalty with no claim to a throne nor monarchy, I’m still just me.”

“I can easily call you Deppgrl,” he smiled awkwardly. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you at one point, Mike, but unfortunately, I stopped,” I sighed. “I didn’t say that to hurt you.”

“I know,” he said. “I hurt you badly when I moved in next to you. And yes, I moved a few streets away when you went to New Zealand. Thought it would be best.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t know if you have a vehicle here or not but I do. We need to head back as soon as possible because the second I step out of the building, the entire Italian government will know that I quit working for them and gave my diplomatic status here. They’ll honor my Russian Federation diplomatic shit though.”

“I don’t have a car here. I was awoken at the ass crack of dawn, packed a back, took two flights to get here, slept at a hotel last night and was told to be here early.”

“I appreciate your coming here to travel back with me,” I said as I grabbed my crossbody bag off of Ignazio’s desk. “I have a car out front. Or should if it hadn’t been towed. Do you have your bag and passport?”

“Any time. And yes, I have my stuff with me including my passport,” he said. “Funnily enough, it was handed to me by the gate agent before I boarded the plane to get here.”

I smiled and knew that it could be only Lorenzo doing that.

“Alrighty. Let’s go,” I said as we headed out of the office.

I led the way through the winding hallways to the front. Thankfully, the car that was waiting for me at the hospital was still out front of the Parliament. I unlocked the car, got in and started the car while I impatiently waiting for Mike to get in.

“You might want to buckle up,” I suggested. “This car has about a bazillion horsepower.”

As soon I heard his seatbelt click, I put the car into gear and headed to the same airport I arrived at. It had to be a semi quiet exit and I knew that I had to leave using my Russian Federation diplomatic passport as that’s the one I used to enter Italy. I just hoped and prayed that no eyebrows would be raised when my true identity was shown.

Thanks to my heavy foot and the horsepower of the car, we arrived at the airport in fifteen minutes rather than the typical forty minutes. Mike was holding onto the door so hard that his knuckles were white. I parked in the corner and as we grabbed our things from the back seat, I heard someone call my name.

“Marie, give me the keys!” Marlon hollered.

“Here!” I said without looking.

I heard the keys hit his hand. Once Mike and I had our stuff, I hugged Marlon and nodded. He nodded back.

“Let’s go, Mike. We need to get out of the parking lot fast.”

“What’s going on?” he asked. "Those nods are making me thing that something not legal will happen."

“You don’t wanna know,” I said. “Marlon, thank you, friend. Text my brother when you’re done. I’ll be able to tell when we’re in the air.”

“Got it, boss,” he said.

I started jogging to the private sector of the airport with Mike not too far behind me. He was out of breath from the short jog. We arrived at a private jet that I knew that was waiting for us…thanks to Ignazio’s secretary. She slipped a piece of paper in my hand with the exact location of the plane when I opened Ignazio's office.

“Hi,” I said. “We were told that this plane would be taking people to Canada from here. Where do we check in at?”

“Go through the entrance by the orange signs, go to Customs to present your documentation and then head back here with your tickets,” the airport employee said. “Lift off is in twenty minutes. Better hurry up because the pilots of this plane wait for no one!”

I nodded my head and we headed inside to customs. As I pulled out my Russian Federation passport under my true identity, I prayed to as many deities that I could name in four minutes that no eyebrows or questions would be raised. Thankfully, nothing was of concern though there was a slight eyebrow raise. I had purple hair in my passport picture and now I have fire engine red hair. I looked at my phone as we were heading to the plane and I told Mike to step on it as we had two minutes to get back to the plane. We made it with seconds to spare.

“Hurry up!” said a flight attendant. “We’re on a tight schedule to Ontario!”

Mike and I ran up the stairs and found our seats.

“You look beautiful in the sun dress, by the way, Deppgrl,”  Mike said.

“Thanks,” I said. “And no, you’re not getting lucky.”

“Harsh!” he said.

“The truth,” I corrected.

“How’s everything been with you?” he asked.

“The plane isn’t the time nor the place for the conversation,” I said. “When we get back to Ontario and in my house, we’ll have that conversation.”

“Understood,” he said.

Italian Convalescence

I spent the next few days of the recovery of the surgery sleeping, eating, and taking the pain meds as needed. My entire existence shrunk to the four corners of my room, punctuated only by the soft tick of the wall clock and the quiet rustle of the curtains from the aircon.

Every time I woke up, Roberto was there with foods and pain medications. As a tsarist, he was overly protective of me.

"You need to eat something substantial today," he said on the second morning, carrying in a tray with a plate of scrambled eggs, thick-cut bacon, and a slice of buttered toast with two glasses of juice.

"I'm not really hungry," I muttered. "And my entire body still throbs if I move even an inch."

"The doctor said the medication works best when you have food in your stomach," Roberto replied gently, but with an underlying firmness that left no room for argument. "Eat first and then take the medication; it’s better for absorption. And yes, I know, you already know this."

As I slowly ate my breakfast, Roberto stood by the window, his eyes scanning the street below before he drew the sheers slightly closer. He was incredibly protective of me, watching over my recovery like a silent guardian.

"You don't have to stay here the whole time, Roberto," I said. "I know you have other things and patients to attend to. I'm super grateful for everything you're doing, but I don't want to be a burden."

He turned to look at me, his expression softening just a fraction. "You are not a burden. My family has survived generations of turmoil because we understand one fundamental truth: we don’t support democratic elections."

"Your family has always been like this?" I asked, wanting to understand the quiet gravity he carried.

"We are lifelong tsarists," Roberto said. "To my family, loyalty is not a preference; it is a sacred duty. We do not abandon our posts, and we do not leave those we care for to fend for themselves."

A warm sense of safety settled over me, stronger than any comfort the medication could offer. Knowing that his fierce devotion was entirely focused on keeping me safe made the long, quiet hours of recovery bearable.

By the fourth day after surgery, I woke up feeling a noticeable shift. The sharp, agonizing stabs of pain had subsided to a dull, manageable ache, and I was in far less pain than I had been since the operation. For the first time, I didn't feel the immediate urge to reach for the pill bottle.

I carefully swung my legs out of bed and stood up. The room didn't spin, and my entire body felt remarkably lighter.

"What are you doing?" Roberto’s voice sounded from the doorway. He was by my side in an instant, his arms around my waist just in case my balance gave out.

"I think I'm actually okay," I said, looking up at him with a genuine smile. "I wanted to see the damage."

I walked slowly over to the full mirror in the corner of the room to inspect my reflection. The angry, dark purple bruises that had dominated my eyes, breasts and stomach were rapidly disappearing, fading into faint, yellow-green shadows. Even the tight, uncomfortable swelling was also dissipating.

Roberto stood behind me, studying my face in the glass with a critical eye until his shoulders finally relaxed. "The color is returning to your face," he admitted, a note of relief creeping into his voice. "The swelling is almost completely gone."

"I think the worst of healing is behind me," I said.

“I agree, Marie,” Roberto said as he smiled. “Are you up for a shower? I know that those shower wipes can only do so much.”

“I’m so ready, friend,” I said with an even bigger smile. “Can I get my sheets switched out?”

“While you shower – there’s a seat in there, by the way – I’ll grab these sheets as well as your hospital gown and have someone come in with fresh sheets and a few clean hospital gowns,” he said. “Don’t worry, I’ll personally put these used sheets and gown in the incinerator.”

“Thanks, Roberto,” I said as I took the hospital gown off and threw it on the bed. “How can I repay you for taking care of me?”

“Any time,” he said. “There’s no need to repay me for taking care of you. It’s part of my job and I appreciate having patients like you.”

I switched my slippers to my flip flops and headed to the bathroom. I closed and locked the door behind me, grateful that late the one night Sera screwed with the security cameras so she could come to my room alone. I gave her all of my identifications and passports to hold onto for safe keeping until the night before I signed out. When she left my room that night and got back to her office, she fixed the security cameras. We were done with the hand off in less than two minutes so no staff member would be alerted to her coming to my room alone nor the fact the cameras were offline for a short window of time.

I turned the water on and put it as hot as I could handle it. Thomas, as wonderful as he is to me, dropped off my favorite shampoo, conditioner and soap at reception two days before unsure when I felt up to showering. He knew not to bring face wash for me as I think it’s overrated and use the same bar of soap that I use for my body for my face. I refused to see him due to how I looked – heavily bruised, swollen and unbearable because of the pain but he understood how I was feeling. Once in the water, I washed my hair three times and conditioned my hair twice. I lathered up my entire body with soap about a million times before I used the body wash that he bought me. I showered quickly but stayed in the water for over an hour.

When I was ready to get out, I was a little sad that the shower ended but knew that it’d help with my healing process. I grabbed a towel for my hair and one for my body. I was quick with the towel for my hair as I wrapped my hair up and super careful with the towel for my body as I didn’t want to bust any stitches open. I dried off, put on some deodorant, hung up my towels, brushed my hair and headed into the main area of my room. The bed was made and there were several hospital gowns on the fresh bedding. I threw on a gown and stored the rest on the dresser. I switched the wet flip flops to my slippers then brought the slippers to the bathroom to dry upside down in there.

I grabbed the book authored by Allison Weir, got situated the best I could on the bed and started reading. As always, Ms. Weir's books are excellent—her books are a mix of fiction and non-fiction, historical, and causes the reader to be engrossed by what is written.

I was completely absorbed, with just a few pages left of the book, when the door to my room slowly clicked open.

Thomas stepped inside, freezing the instant his eyes met mine. He knew that I'd be pissed that he was seeing me like this, and the way he carried himself proved it.

"I know, I know," Thomas said quickly, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture before I could say a word. "I shouldn't be here. You told me not to come, but I was going crazy not seeing you."

"Thomas," I sighed, letting the book drop slightly against my lap. "What did we agree on?"

"We agree that I would wait until you arrived back to your apartment," he said, taking a tentative step closer to the bed, his eyes scanning my face with a mixture of concern and relief. “You look amazing, by the way.”

“Thomas, you know what this means,” I said. “Due to your failure to respect my boundaries, not only do I have to kick you out of my hospital room, I have to kick you out of my life for the time being.”

“What? That’s ridiculous,” he said.

“No, it isn’t,” I said. “You know who and how I was from the get go when we were children. Since you failed to respect my boundaries, this is how it needs to be. Please leave.”

Thomas stared at me, his jaw tightening as the absolute finality of my words sank in. For a second, he looked like he wanted to argue, to plead our years of history, but the cold look on my face stopped him. He reached down to the bed, snatched his keys with a sharp, metallic rattle, and turned on his heel. He walked out, slamming the heavy wooden door shut behind him.

The sound of his exit echoed off the walls, leaving the room ringing in a sudden, heavy silence. I let out a slow, shaky breath and reached for the bedside telephone receiver.

I dialed zero for the front desk.

"Reception, how can I help you?" a polite, professional voice answered on the second ring.

"This is DeppGrl Smith in room 412," I said, my voice steady. "I’m not accepting any outside visitors, effective immediately. None at all."

"No visitors at all, Ms. Smith?" the receptionist confirmed, the faint clicking of computer keys starting up in the background. "Does that include family and friends?"

"I said no outside visitors…..that includes family and friends," I replied flatly. "No exceptions. If anyone asks for me or tries to come up to my room, they are to be turned away immediately."

"I've updated your chart and flagged it for security," she said. "No one else will be let up."

"Thank you," I said, and hung up the phone.

A few minutes later, the door opened quietly again. Roberto came back up to my room to see how I was after kicking Thomas out.

"I saw Thomas heading for the elevators and he looked livid," Roberto said, studying my expression. "Are you doing alright?"

"I'm fine," I told him, leaning back against my pillows. "It sucks when people don't respect boundaries. I kicked Thomas out of my room and from my life for the time being. If anyone calls or comes in to ask if they can visit me, first deny that I’m here and then say that they can’t visit anyone who’s a patient here. And yes, security has been notified that I’m not seeing anyone.”

Roberto nodded as he was clicking away on his computer. I knew he was writing a scathing email to the receptionist who let Thomas in and that I didn’t list anyone as approved visitors. While he was finishing up the email, I finished the book. A few minutes later, Roberto and I looked at each other and asked each other: “All finished?”

“Are you ready to join the other patients in the dining hall?” he asked.

“Sure,” I sighed. “I’m going to wear a robe or a sweatshirt over this gown…I don’t want everyone to see my sexy fat ass.”

“Wear whatever you want to wear as long as you’re comfortable,” he said. “There’s nothing wrong with your ass.”

I grabbed a sweatshirt and Roberto helped me as putting any kind of clothing hurt especially my now lifted breasts. I groaned.

“When are these stitches going to be removed?” I asked.

“I’ll send a message to the doctors once you’re in the dining hall and ask them,” he said. “Hopefully I receive an answer soon and maybe we’ll get the stitches removed tonight.”

I nodded, grabbed the book and we headed to the dining hall. Both Roberto and I knew that I could handle the walk but as a safety precaution, he walked with me. Once in the dining hall, I deposited the book on the bookshelf and grabbed another book before sitting down in the corner.

The same dining hall employee that took care of me the first night that I was here, took care of me again.

They walked over to my table with a friendly smile.

"Good to see you! How is your recovery? What can I get you to eat and drink?"

"I want tons of water to drink, some kind of pasta of your choice, a salad, and some chicken," I said.

The employee smiled warmly and nodded. "You got it. I'll head back and figure something out in the kitchen for you."

As I was waiting, I decided to check the bookshelves again to find another book. It took me some time as I had many of these books at my different apartments and the ones that I didn't have, I've already read thanks to library loans. I stood up and walked over to the wooden shelves, trailing my fingers along the spines of the well-worn novels. My eyes scanned the titles, looking for anything that could hold my interest, but finding a new story was always a challenge when I kept such a massive rotation of reading material scattered across my places. I let out a soft sigh, pulling out a couple of paperbacks to inspect their back covers, determined to find a book that could distract me while my food was being prepared.

Since none of the books caught my attention, I decided to sit down at the table that I sat at the other night. Moments later, the dining hall employee headed in my direction with a tray of food.

“Sorry for the delay, Ms. Smith,” they said. “The chefs and cooks were trying to get a bit creative for you. They made a chicken pasta primavera and a house salad with grilled chicken. I’ll bring water over to you momentarily.”

“Thanks so much, friend,” I said. “Wow. These are humongous portions! Don’t worry – I’ll eat it all. I’m so hungry. No rush on the water.”

The employee smiled, nodded and left with the tray. I dug into my food and boy, was it incredible. I could swear that my brother, Bob, had a hand in making the chicken pasta primavera. When the employee came out with an empty water glass and a pitcher of water, I had to ask them if my brother was in the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry to ask this and trust me, I get respecting the privacy of staff but I’m curious about something,” I began. “Is there a super attractive chef named Bob back there? He’s about six feet tall, blond, blue eyes and extremely loud and obnoxious?”

“I take it you used to work in restaurants before,” they said. “How did you know Bob was here? Do you personally know Bob?”

“I did, many years ago,” I said. “Bob is my friend. Please feel free to let him know that his favorite sister is ready to yell at him.”

“I certainly will,” the employee said as they laughed then headed back into the kitchen.

I enjoyed the rest of my meal and texted Sera.

Why is Bob working in the kitchen at this hospital? Did you tell him that I was safe? I sent to my former lover turned protector.

My phone buzzed with her reply just a few seconds later.

He doesn't know you're in my hospital and yes, I told him you were safe. I had to let him know something so he wouldn't drive himself crazy worrying. You know your brother – over protective of you. Sera sent.

Before I could even respond, Bob came running out of the kitchen to hug me. He grabbed me in his arms and lifted me out of my seat. The second I groaned in pain, my brother loosened his grip on me and let me go, gently putting me back on my chair.

“Another slight upgrade, Duchess?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, I had to,” I said. “I came in hot looking for Rob. The wrong people heard and some friends suggested I go into hiding right in the public.”

“I understand,” Bob said. “Who’s keeping an eye on Rob?”

“Vic.”

“And who’s keeping an eye on Vic?”

“Thomas.”

“Oh for fucks sake! That horny bastard??”

“Yes, that horny bastard,” I said with a giggle. “You should be more worried about Vic and I being in the same country as he’s hornier than Thomas.”

“You’ve fucked them both?”

“Both separately and at the same time.”

“Who haven’t you fucked here in Italy?”

“The pope. He took a vow of chastity. I’m not sure if he’s keeping the vow or not, but he’s the pope,” I said. “Not that he’d look in my direction or not as I’m far from looking like Heidi Klum!”

“Dude, really?” Bob said. “You’re my kid sister and always will be. I don’t want to hear about your sexcapades, ok?”

“I hear you,” I said.

“Look, I have to go back to the kitchen or my cover will be blown,” he sighed as he ran his hand through his hair. “No one but you and Sera know that I’m here. I also don’t want anyone to know that we’re related.”

I nodded my head and let him go. I finished eating my meal and headed back to the room. Sofia, the hairdresser, was just outside of my room.

“Larissa, it’s so good to see you on your feet,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Thanks, Sofia. I’m feeling more human today,” I said. “I ate and I showered today.”

“That’s wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering if you have the energy to swing by the salon with me so we can get a better look at your hair under the lights in there. We’ll go by the windows as well, if you’d like.”

“I definitely have the energy for us to check out my hair,” I said. “Andiamo!”

It didn’t take us long to get to the salon from my room. I sat in a chair near the windows as it could help Sofia check out my hair.

“Hmmmmm. Between the lights in here and some natural light, it kind of looks like you’re a bit orange rather than red,”  she said. “I kind of expected this as we went from a faded black to blonde to attempt red. Mind if we step outside so I can get a better look?”

“I don’t mind,” I said. “I am getting a little weak on my feet though.”

“We’ll be quick and there’s hand railings out there,” she said. “Plus, I was a nurse in my former life.”

I nodded and we headed outside. The sun and the warm air felt great on my skin. Sofia let me soak up some much needed rays before she checked my hair again.

“We’re still orange but a little bit leaning towards red,” she said. “Are you up for going red right now or do you want to rest before we try again?”

“I’m good to go,” I said. “I plan on checking out midmorning tomorrow. So, if we can’t get this now, we have until tomorrow morning.”

Sofia worked her magic with the dye in the back before coming back out to work on my hair. As she set her supplies down, she heaved a massive sigh.

“What’s up, friend?” I asked.

“I got a little carried away,” she sighed again. “I didn’t do the math right so if the dye is applied, you’ll get the attention that you don’t want to have.”

“Let me guess, I’ll basically have bright red hair and it’ll only look partially real?”

“You got it.”

“I’m ok with it,” I said. “I asked for a completely different look with my hair and you’re doing it.”

“You got it, Larissa!” she said with a smile.

I sat in her seat and let her do her thing. It didn’t take her long to apply the dye to my hair and put my hair in foils. After setting for a long time, Sofia removed the foils and took me to the sink to wash my hair. She used a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner to add a little moisture to my hair.

“Alright, my dear,” Sofia said as she turned the chair to face the mirror. “What do you think?”

“I love it!” I said genuinely. “I always wanted fire engine red hair and now I have it. Thanks, Sofia!”

I got out of her chair and gave her a big hug. I knew that I needed to text Sera when I got back to my room to ask meets beg her to give Sofia a raise.

“I’m so glad that you love it, Larissa!” she beamed. “For upkeep of your hair, use sulfate free shampoo and conditioners, no hot water for washing and conditioning your hair and find a conditioner that deposits some red coloring into your hair. It’ll help maintain your hair until your next salon appointment…whether it’s here or elsewhere.”

“I appreciate you and your work, Sofia,” I said. “Thank you again for an amazing job.”

“You’re very welcome!” she said as I headed to my room. Moments later, I sent Sera a text.

Your main stylist, Sofia, is amazing and gave me a fresh look. She did more than I could ever ask anyone to do to change my hair. Honestly, she deserves a raise for doing miracles with my hair. On a different note, I am leaving tomorrow morning and need all of my passports and documentation. You can trust Roberto with them as he and his family are tsarists – he knows that I’m Marie Alexandrovna Romanove, rather than Larissa Barlowe. Rather than risking us blowing our covers, Roberto can do the hand off. I sent Sera

I have often been complimented on Sofia’s professionalism and talent. I guarantee that she’ll receive a raise. Yes, I know Roberto and his family well. I’ll provide him your documentation before rounds tonight so that it’s one less thing for you to worry about when it’s time for you to leave. She sent.

I mean it, Sera. I want everything….none of my possessions remain in your hands. As soon as I’m ready, I need to go to the Italian government and tell them that my professional services for them and with them are terminated on my terms. I sent.

Heard loud and clear. He’ll be there shortly with everything.  She sent.

I put my phone down and started packing my clothes. Once I showered and dressed in the morning, I’d be out the door so fast. Moments later, Roberto knocked on my door before entering.

“Miss Larissa, I have some paperwork that the owner felt that you needed,” Roberto said loudly. I knew someone was nearby. “She said that she’d make sure your paperwork would be ready for you first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you, Roberto. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me the last few days,” I said. “You’ve been amazing and my healing wouldn’t have progressed as well as it has had you not been involved with it.”

Roberto nodded and handed me my passports, documentations and other forms of identification. I gave him a quick smile before he left. I secured everything that he had handed me in my bag.