ACT 1

THE RETURN

"she looked away as she walked towards the full body mirror as she turned to her side and put her hand on her stomach as she breathed in,"

Talia sat on her white and gold chaise designed chair as her private jet was soon about to land on the private jet on Russian soil. The brunette was rather sitting perfectly poised in her chair she had languorously leaned her back against the wall and her legs flopped lazily onto the armrest as with her phone in hand was video calling none other than her Japanese companion.

"Isn't too cold to play golf Hiro-chan, It's bloody winter there?" she nagged as she could see her friend rolling his eyes as he swung -left-handedly-, Talia hearing the 'whip' of the metal club colliding with the white ball.

"I'm inside lia-chi," he said as he assiduously placed the small little ball in front of him as he looked back at the tablet held by his PA beside him as he slowly calculated with small untouched swings as Talia cringed.

With a big swing the moment his club collided with the golf ball Talia screamed:

"Pigeon!"

"What?! Where?!" he reacted throwing off the trajectory of the ball as Talia laughed wildly in the screen as his PA stifled a small laugh escaping her lips like smoke as he shot a glare as she looked away.

"Huh-Ha! I thought you were playing inside!" she snorted as continuing to glare his golfer was handed his club as Hiro approached his PA, handing him the device.

"Out of the number of times you were scolded by the matron has scolded you and for someone who passed Alderbridge's military etiquette training you still act like an infant," he insulted as he made his way to the lounge.

"So final year," he breathed out as he methodically picked up his array of sushi catered by his own of his private chefs.

"Yep," she popped the 'p' in the word.

"And your last year, well months actually of being unwedded woman," he teased as he could see her eating a packet of lentil chips.

"Technically," she munched on her food, "I was married to him before, just not certified through a ritual society dictates on a wedded couple,"

"Touche," he approved as he dabbed a bit of wasabi on his sebi sushi piece.

"Hiro-chan," she began, "Will you do me the honour of being my honorary bridesmaid," she dramatically said as he stiffened.

"You fool,"

"What, I've seen you where kimonos... they're technically dresses," she argued.

"It will be embarrassing,"

"Why would I get embarrassed-,"

"Me, dumbass. Your in-laws will disown you," he remarked as she stuck out her tongue.

"Your far from getting to be Mikhail's best man," she shrugged, "So what's my wedding present?"

"You're already getting too many presents," he ruled as she raised a brow, "... an endless supply of sushi there are you happy?"

"I'll live and die knowing there was something beautiful in my life," she grinned

"What about your endless supply of jewellery worth billions?" he deadpanned.

"That too, but sushi is sushi," she concluded with a smile as he chuckled at his friend's infancy.

"So, I'm thinking about running for head," he said as Talia's icy eyes widened.

"Did a pigeon touch you or something mate?" she coughed.

"I think you've been visiting Tasmania too many times," he observed.

"Nah shit, Tassie is my happy place. I'm a true local there, speaking of which thank you for giving me the idea of making fairy bread, do we have any sprinkles on the plane? I'm going to make some," she got up carried her phone and walked to the small kitchen.

"Stop mimicking rednecks-,"

"Bogan's is the correct term, and I was joking, hardly anyone you can find in Tassie sounds actually like that," she chuckled "But back to what I was saying... are you fucking crazy you lunatic, who the hell is going to vote for you?! And even if you are decent Alice is going to go ballistic!"

"I was thinking-,"

"Hush, I'm not finished. Do you realise she is a fucking Läckerberg? Huh! She's been looking for this role since she was eleven! And you wonder if your father was replaced by that Shi couple in the group,"

This was not the only problem. Hiro was second-generation money, his father had developed the primal searching site 'SearchUp', earning billions of dollars through advertisements. In addition, Hiro was excepted to the elite Alderbridge Academy. Where he was one of the twenty-five boys accepted in his year.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to run with me a vice?"

"Strategic as it is nope," she popped the 'p', "Too much effort,"

"Says the woman who doesn't even know what she's going to do with her future after billions of dollars in education," he retorted.

"Look. I am a secret artist who just has to splatter paint on a bloody canvas and earn millions, I get married to Mikhail and the only hard part is to make babies with him, to the point where I have to produce until a male heir is born and most likely another one for a girl, and for the rest of my life, I can just relax and go retire in Tassie. So yeah, I think I'm fine," she smiled as she slumped in her seat Hiro sighed.

"Lia-chi, you're better than that and you know it. You could be finding a cure for something or a brilliant lawyer or engineer," he responded.

"My only role as a Chinese descendant woman is to produce children, and as a Russian wife to cook and clean slash manage the household and my kids so I kind of gave up the whole being a brilliant lawyer slash engineer a while ago-, oh I have to go now. The jet is landing," she abruptly said.

The brunette sighed as she felt the slow descent of the Gulfstream III jet as she slowly munched the last bits of her fairy bread.

True she had stopped the call for the fact she was landing and then meeting up with Mikhail but she knew the hazel-eyed male knew the true reason for her actions.

The Padilla-Hu heiress a truly igneous lady of her age -prior to the fact of her dear coordinator Ms Park who was undoubtedly invited to the wedding- could, in fact, take on any job her heart desired. An eloquent articulate litigator with a truly powerful force to be reckoned with, a traditional doctor of either neurosurgeon, anesthesiologist or cardiologist, or engineer.

But Talia had settled on the fact to focus on becoming the perfect wife for both cultures, balancing her side of the family with Mikhail's. She would graduate Albderbridge and study with a few private lessons with Oxford and Cambridge's professors flown in just for her every now for two years but would spend time travelling and attending balls and accompanying and assisting her soon-to-be husband.

This was simply the life she had placed herself in eight years ago. A true royal, not the Disney princesses who would fall in love with a prince at first sight, but one like in the old golden era where esteemed women were shipped off to noble bachelors, solidifying the union of their benefit country; nor was her relationship with Mikhail.

It was certainly not love at first sight, but rather a small blossom of a simple friendship. Through rough patches, Talia had stayed loyal to her fiancee and Mikhail finally truly fell in love with her over a year ago yet the female was still not sure of any pure romantic feelings for him, but aside from that if no romantic feelings were present friendship was bound to be there.

As the attendant notified Talia, a beautiful obsidian black carpet was rolled out onto the concrete of the inside private runway hangar. Talia changed into a simple black knitted sweater and pants as she wrapped herself in a thick mink fur shuba as she paired it with her black knee-high boots.

*Those beautiful fur Russian coats.

Meanwhile, Mikhail Kadamskiynov stood in all his glory with a thick grey coat as next to him was a towering black Doberman with a specially designed lizard-skinned Louis Vuitton collar with ten-carat gold studs and a gold cross in the centre, sitting on the canine's neck sitting obediently beside his mistress' betrothed.

As the plane's door opened Talia smiled, as she gracefully walked down as the black dog dashed to its master.

"Cerberus!" she cooed as she kneeled down to his level as scratched along the side of the collar Cerberus made many attempts to lick her face, "No-, no boy! No licking! Hey!" she laughed as a large shadow fell upon her as she looked up at the European male giving a soft smile.

"милая," he smiled as she got up she was enveloped in his arms. She chuckled at him as the two embraced a small passionate kiss, "You've been gone too long,"

"Well, I'm here now," she replied as they linked arms as he guided her out with the canine pridefully walking behind them.

---

The two walked into the esteemed Kadamskiynov manor, located far from the city of Moscow, away from public eyes. The estate was lined with lush towering thick walls of evergreen trees now covered with the endless amount of snow caused by Russia's immense cold winters.

Rumoured to be over half the size of Wales of private land, in the front and centre stood a large monument that dated back to the seventeen hundreds, rumouring to be a gift bestowed to the elite family from none of the then there Great Empress herself. The building of Elizabethan Baroque architecture had white and gold pillars and embellishments with pearly and amber-yellow walls that truly embraced the little princess inside of Talia; which she had dubbed Mikhail's home as the golden palace. The cobblestone trail led to the work of art with lined German cherry trees, that were now fantastical frozen sculptures coated with a delicate layer of ice, with small icicles hanging quite precariously on the branches.

It never got old to her.

Never.

With a small team of staff waiting ostentatiously for the couple, they quickly lead them inside where they could relax in the warmth that the residence offered. Talia gazed at the symmetrical line of chandeliers leading down the main hall. 

With the same Elizabethan Baroque interior, with its blissful white marble floors with a different pattern carefully crafted designs in each room, tall walls with sunset arches and golden swirls embroidered skillfully, and what Talia loved most of all the malachite pillars standing proud as it held up the high ceiling with some displaying a painting that was monthly being treated and cleaned.

"Thank you," Talia said in Russian to the maid who took away her shuba that would eventually be hanged with assiduously in her room.

"To the lounge?" he asked as she nodded following him.

---

Mila Vanderhaden sat on the white and gold chaise lounge seat as a revolving line of staff delicately held her million's worth of gowns as she shook her head softly with each one she found no interest in.

The late invite of Elsa Läckerburg to a small party of the esteemed guest's children to the Swiss mansion in the snowy alps had set the youngest Vanderhaden to decide which appropriate gown to match the party theme: winter and simple.

Mila's eyes scanned the ethereal chiffon-tiered Alexander McQueen gown with a beautiful train with intricate patterns that blended beautifully with the top as she matched with a pair of custom-made Stuart Weitzman heels.

Now her favourite part.

Jewellery.

Being the heiress to none other than the most exclusive jewellery makers in history, stemming all the way to private pieces to royal European families. Each is handmade using the old ways, delicately made with care to the tiniest detail.

Opening a velvet navy box, the champagne-haired female eyed at the clasp collier necklace. It was lined with three dazzling rows of snowy white Melo Melo pearls and in the middle, a pillow-cut taaffeite sat with tiny diamonds sprinkled around it as a blinding frame. After it was carefully placed around her neck.

Gazing at her necklace in the mirror at the multi-thousand dollar piece wrapped around her neck. It was one of the few lower works than her family produced but every situation deserved the right set of jewellery.

On cue, the door opened to reveal a dashingly handsome male fixing the sleeve of his white Alexander McQueen-designed tuxedo with black collars.

"Mila, you almost ready?" Cesar waltzed in as his hazel orbs gazed at his sister.

"Yeah," she said, "Do you think this is too much?" she looked to him as he was scrolling through his phone as she deadpanned.

"Yeah, sure it looks fine,"

He didn't even look up.

"Mother is coming, she's meeting us there. Father is already too," he informed turning off his phone as he left.

"I see," she looked away as she walked towards the full-body mirror as she turned to her side and put her hand on her stomach as she breathed in.

---

"I'm not going!" Talia whined as Mikhail chuckled at her infancy as the ebony-haired female was nonchalantly sprawled on the couch, her face glowing from the fireplace burning bright dimly marinating the room with the odour of ash, and with a slight hint of rosemary that was found near the fireplace.

"Your mother expects you to be there," he added as she narrowed his eyes at him.

"I don't want to dress up, too much effort," she groaned, "And we have to fly there, I just got off a plane two hours ago," she continued to protest.

"You're going,"

"No,"

"Everyone expects you to be there,"

"Nyet,"

"милая," he tilted his head as he crouched down, leaning against the emerald chair where she turned her head to face him.

Pale green orbs met his grey ones.

Talia absolutely adored Mikhail's features.

He was far beyond your average attractive male. He had a majority of key features, a well-toned body, prominent jawline and well-styled hair; but instead of a bulky muscular body, it was rather an athletic build with a scarce amount of fat here and there (due to his obsession with Talia's grandmother's cooking, especially with the spring rolls) from all his activity in volleyball that was also the cause of his large solid flexible shoulders. Instead of the much loved sun-kissed, it was rather a peachy porcelain colour, upturned eyes bejewelling his grey agate jewels. Once assembling it all together he radiated a regal figure.

Giving a soft smile to her Talia sighed in defeat.

"I hate you, you know that right?" she rolled her eyes as her eyes widened as she felt soft lips connect to her ones.

Her heart fluttering she grabbed the closest pillow to her and hid her face behind it as she heard soft chuckles escape the blonde.

"I'm only putting forty per cent effort," she bargained.

"sixty," he urged

"Forty," she adamantly replied.

"Fifty," he lowered it.

"Forty," as he narrowed his eyes at her playfully as she rolled her frowning.

"Forty-five," they said in unison.