Raffy's POV

I sat upright when I heard a knock at my door, then slowly opened. Osvaldo walked in and executed a brief bow of his head. He stood stiffly, dropping his hands to his sides. "Mrs. Belsky is here, Your Grace," he announced, then stepped aside, and motioned the woman behind her to go in.

The redhead, Mrs. Belsky squared her shoulders as she walked past him, not even sparing Osvaldo a glance. She's about her late sixties. A bit chunky woman, wearing a fierce look. "Your Grace," she greeted in a flat, unhidden reproach. She made a clumsy curtsy, then straightened herself. Her green eyes held animosity as she rested it on me.

I just gave her a single nod in acknowledgment. "Please, sit." I motioned the armchairs across my desk with my hand. She nodded her head, then took one of the seats.

"I'm not gonna take up much of your time, Mrs. Belsky," I said. She frowned, as she sat upright, her brown purse sitting on her lap. "I demand you and your minions to take your nose out of my life!" I bit out. I was trying to rein my anger, threatening to burst out, by clenching my jaws.

She shifted in her seat, leaning her back against the backrest, she clasped her hands over her voluminous purse. "I'm sorry, but I don't follow, Your Grace," she said.

My temper rose a notch. I willed myself not to shot up and reach for her turkey neck. I stared at her for a few seconds, tapping my fingers on the table. She squared her shoulders, jutted her chin as she met my cold, inimical gaze. "You have to stop your group from meddling with my life, Mrs. Belsky." There's a warning in my neutral tone and the way her brow cocked up; I know she understood the message.

She tilted her chin slightly. She gave me a fake smile as she leaned a little too comfortably to my chagrin. She seemed to be very energetic and wasn't one to get intimidated. It wasn't surprising she was the head of the organization. She had that fierce look, unwavering character to be a leader. "I cannot just turn my back to my fellow women who are taken advantage of—"

I shot up, slamming my fists on my table as rage boiled within me. The table shook causing the papers laid in front of me bounced; pens rolled off the table to the floor. "You only heard her side but not mine!" I growled cutting her off. She flinched back. Her shoulders sagged as she swallowed hard. I leaned in, my palms flat on the table, shifting all my weight forward.

She quickly composed herself and sat upright. "And what is the other side of the story, Your Grace?" her tone dropped a notch, clasping and unclasping her hands over her purse, but she successfully kept her composure intact.

I met her gaze, and my jaws tightened as I regard her intently. "There are things that we need to keep it discreet for the sake of others, just like how I kept your husband's misappropriation to keep his family from being the target of bullies, of insulting comments." She gaped at me. The energy radiating off of her when she walked in here seemed to have had zapped off, and shock went through all her body. The color drained out of her face, and her brows drew together. She had that faraway look. She opened her mouth but shut it after, her lower lip trembling. Her confidence withered completely.

My angered simmered down as I sat back in my chair. I watched her frozen state, and cautiously continued, "I don't want to tell you this ..." I paused "that he embezzled fifty million Rubles." Her mouth fell open as she met my gaze with disbelief. "That he managed to get several loans with falsified documents, using unknown names, non-existing person." Her face turned scarlet as she dodged my gaze. "He withdrew money from different inactive accounts. He's smart." She let out a soft chuckle, devoid of humor as she shook her head vigorously in disbelief. "He knew the clients would unlikely discover the embezzlement," I added.

She stopped her head from shaking, and her shoulders slumped as she fiddled with the straps of her purse. Her head lowered as she shut her eyes tight. "If my grandfather finds out, he wouldn't think twice to behead him," I said, my voice dropping low as I watched her reaction.

A soft gasped left her lips as she snapped up her head and met my gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "But we never live with luxury, Your Grace." She shook her head. "Where would he spent all those money?" her voice quivered. She dropped her gaze on her purse yet again, and curled her fingers on the strap, and gripped it tightly. Her shoulders sagged in disappointment.

I saw the pain crossed her face, and I hesitated to tell her that her husband was a gambler, but she had to know. "He spent it in the casino, and his mistresses."

She stared at me with disbelief. She refused to believe me. "He doesn't know a thing about gambling!" she bit out, clenching her teeth. "I know, he never likes gambling. His father lost everything because of it." She softly muttered.

"Contrary to what you believed, Mrs. Belsky," I answered dryly. "He was addicted to poker. The Casino Royal can prove you that he's a frequent visitor." I added.

She fell into silence as she stared into the distance.

"That's why he lost all the money he embezzled," I stated grimly.

Her glistening green eyes rested back on me. "He will never cheat on me," she asserted, tilting her chin up slightly. I met her unyielding gaze with a challenging stare. She looked away. "He could never do that," her voice dropping low into a murmur. Her voice lack of conviction. She dropped her back against the backrest of the chair and ran her palm over her forehead.

"I don't care if you believe me or not, Mrs. Belsky. I hate to do this, but you gave me no choice. If you can't keep your group out of my way, then I have no other options, but to tell the truth, and you'll not gonna like the result." I threatened. "That is all, Mrs. Belsky. Good day!"

She quickly rose from her seat, then made a brief curtsy. She pivoted towards the door without so much a glance, then strode off.

When she was gone, I quickly left to meet my lawyer, regarding my former Bank Manager's case. My attorney knew about the fraud, but I didn't sue him, because I know he has been loyal to my grandfather, until four years ago, he started gambling. He paid half of the amount and promised to pay the rest bit by bit, but with his new job, I doubt he'll pay it in twenty years. He has six children, all in school. And for the sake of those kids, I decided not to drag him to court.

..........

Natalia's POV

I found Yuliana talking to one of the maids along the hallway, just as I stepped out of the dining room, after having my breakfast. I nodded at her in acknowledgment as I turned to the opposite direction, towards the staircases.

"Ms. Petropoulis!" Yuliana called, and I stopped and turned to face her.

She stopped in front of me. "His Grace is waiting for you in his study," she said.

I raised my eyebrow. I'm really confused who's who? I know, Gannon used to call the old Duke 'His Highness,' and it would be a lot easier to decipher who's who if they still call him like that. "Who's His Grace, Yuliana?" I asked.

She frowned. Hesitation crossed her face as she opened her mouth. "The ol ..." she swallowed, a little horrified. "The old Duke." She blinked twice and slammed her lips shut. The colors of her cheeks disappeared, and her shoulders stiffened.

I let out a chuckle. "Don't worry. I won't tell grandpa." She gave me an appreciative nod. "It would be easier to know if everyone still calls him His Highness. Gannon and well, his former employees used to call him like that," I commented, and she met my gaze.

"His Grace had told us that he's not holding the title anymore, so he preferred to be addressed as His Grace."

"I see," I said. She gave me a tight smile which I returned it with a sweet one. She walked with me to the old Duke study in silence.

Yuliana knock once then pushed the door open. The door creaked as she opened it wider. "Your Grace," Yuliana greeted. "Ms. Petropoulis is here," she announced, and just then I walked inside and gave Yuliana a brief nod before turning to face the old Duke.

He brought down the book he was reading on his table, and took his black rimmed glasses, and place it on top of the folded book.

"Natalia, dear," he rose from his high back chair and narrowed our distance.

"Your Grace," I greeted back, bowing slightly, and he chuckled as he waved his hand off. He gave me a brief hug then motioned me to sit.

As soon as I sat, he settled himself on the chair across me. "Did you had a good sleep?" he asked. He crossed his leg, his elbow resting on either armrest, his fingers intertwined.

"Yes, grandpa. Sorry, I woke up late again," I mumbled sheepishly, dropping my gaze in my lap.

He chuckled. "Don't be, dear. I'm glad you are resting well. You needed that energy today," he said, and I looked up and stared at him frowning.

"Well," he stood up, then walked to his chair. My eyes followed him as he sat back in his high back chair. "I'm going to pick up your parents at the airport, and Raffy's parents." Upon hearing my parents coming, my heartbeat raced.

"But the ball is on Saturday?" I murmured.

"Well, they called me last night upon their upcoming arrival." Grandpa grabbed his glasses, then put it on. "Unfortunately, the news reached them."

I shot up, and my hand flew to my mouth as I pace back and forth mindlessly. I don't want to think what will my father do to him. My dad will kill him.

Stopping hastily, I turned to face Grandpa who was leaning too comfortably in his chair. "Dad will kill Raffy!" I exclaimed. My heart was drumming loudly in my chest in anxiety.

He didn't seem bothered at all. My hands flew to my hips, as I dropped my head low. "Not if you two are engaged and get married?" Grandpa said.

I fell in silence.

Last night, I had contemplated about his proposal. His words before he left me.

"If your father will kill him, then be it. He deserves it anyway!" I snapped my head up and caught Grandpa lifted his shoulder in a half-shrug.

My eyes widened in disbelief. How could he be so nonchalant?

"You have to do something, Grandpa!" I grit out.

Grandpa just smiled. "I can't do anything, dear. I've done enough. I brought you here, and I thought you two would settle it, but my grandson is a fool." Grandpa shifted in his seat and leaned over his table, his elbows resting on the table. "And you, my dear, successfully turned him responsible. I'm just disappointed that it took him a long time to propose to you." Grandpa chuckled. His nonchalance only increases my anxiety.

"So what's our routine today?" Grandpa asked.

I quickly met his eyes, shaking my head in disbelief. "He proposed already," I blurted out in frustrations, and Grandpa just raised his eyebrows.

I caught the bottom of my lip in between my teeth as I trained my eyes on him. He took his glasses off again. "And?" he asked.

I felt the moisture building up around my eyes. "I told him I'm still doubtful," dropping my hands to my sides, I felt my knees getting weak. I took the chair I vacated a while ago and dropped myself on it.

"I understand you, dear." Grandpa's voice never wavered, still as calm as I walked in here. "Let the nation condemn him of his fatuous behavior—"

"NO!" I shot up. My body trembled with fear for him. I stepped forward until my thighs connected to the edge of his desk. Flattening my palm over his desk, I leaned in. "You can't do that to him, Grandpa! You can't just throw him out there, to the wolves. You have to do something!" I demanded, forgetting who he was. Anger, frustrations, and fear blinded me. Tears are brimming in my eyes, threatening to fall as I stared at him, silently pleading.

He shook his head as he leaned his back against the backrest of his high back chair. His elbow rested on either side of the armrest. He didn't look as bothered as I am. "I don't think I could help him, Natalia." He said. There's a finality in his tone, and my tears trickled down on my cheeks.

God, I can't let those people condemn him. I know he hurt me, but he didn't deserve to receive such contempt from the whole nation.

He was a victim alright!

"But he didn't do anything, Grandpa!" I shot back.

"I know," Grandpa nodded, but he's not willing to help him, and that really frustrates me. Now he needed him more than anything, but he seemed too relaxed. His grandson is facing contempt and obloquy.

By the looks of it, there's nothing that would change his mind. I had to do something. "What should I do?" I sobbed. I plopped down on the nearest chair and cried softly.

"You can save him," Grandpa said.

I wiped my eyes with my fingers and turned my head to face him. "And how could I help him?" I sniffed.

Grandpa was regarding me intently. "It's only you who can prove the whole Pushkin that your relationship and the Duke were never a front. And you will accept his marriage proposal," Grandpa explained, and I nodded.

I will do just that. I will not let those narrowminded people rebuke my love.

I nodded as I wiped the fresh tears rolling down my cheeks.

"This afternoon, at two o'clock, we have a press conference. Raffy will explain his sides, and he will need your presence, I'm sure."

"I will be there!" I answered, nodding my head vigorously.

Grandpa nodded.

After a while, "I'll be leaving soon to pick up your parents, would you like to come?" he asked.

I nodded my head in agreement. "Well, you look great as it is, but those dried tears is noticeable. I don't want them to think that I am abusing you," Grandpa chuckled, and I nodded.

I quickly rose from my seat. "I'll see you shortly, Grandpa."

"Yes, dear." Grandpa took his glasses and put it back on. I turned on my heel and left him.

.

.

I watched as the plane with the Petropoulis name on the exterior taxied along the runway, and stop a few meters from where the black limo of the Markovich parked.

Not long, my parents disembarked from the plane. Dad was left talking to his crew. Ember bounced down from the stairsteps with obvious excitement, and dad quickly helped her down.

I shifted my eyes to my mother approaching us. She was wearing a paneled red dress that reached just above her knee, black Burberry trench coat, and red high heel. Her purse hoisted on her inner elbow as she strutted towards us with class and confidence.

Dad and Ember caught up with mom, just before mom reaches us. I ran to meet them. I'm so excited to see them here.

My eyes trained on Ember. She was wearing a Dior's collection, off-white sleeveless blouse tucked into her short skirt that matched her blouse, and completed it with white leather ankle boots with red sole from Christina Louboutin.

Her big glasses suit her heart shape face, and she looked stunning than I remember.

"Iya!" Mom cried out, and I dragged my gaze to mom. She stood in front of me and pulled me into her arms and gave me a tight hug. "God, I miss you, baby." Mom cooed. I hugged her back, just then I felt that overwhelming longing for them.

"I miss you a lot, mom," I murmured, my voice shaking with mixed emotions upon seeing them.

Mom pulled away and caressed my cheek with her palm. "Oh, my baby!" she cooed, tears of happiness filled her eyes.

Dad stood next to mom. Before I could hug dad, Ember squealed with excitement. "Iya!" Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself giggling. "Where is the Duke?" she asked as soon as she pulled away. With a full blown smile, she roamed her eyes around. I saw mom and dad talking with Grandpa as I followed her gaze.

"He's not here," I answered dragging my eyes back to my sister. I just noticed that she dyed her hair honey blonde. It suits her.

"You look fabulous," I complimented, and she tilted her head to one side slightly.

"You think so?" as she ran her hand over her tied up hair.

I nodded. She held both my hands and giggled. "Yes! You definitely looked like mom," I commented, and she winked before hooking her arm around my inner elbow and dragged me to where mom, dad, and Grandpa were.

Dad looked at me when as soon as we approached them, then released mom's waist, and closed our gap. "My baby," he cooed and hugged me. His hold was firm but with gentleness. He placed a gentle kiss on the side of my head, just above my ear. "You better tell me what did that Valiente does to you before I'll skin him alive," dad whispered, and I pouted as I pulled away.

"Dad!" I hissed and felt mom's eyes on me. I turned my head and met her eyes, worries etched all over her face. I retraced back my gaze to my father who looked stoic at the moment.

His muscles are strained. "He better has a good explanation, Iya," he murmured.

"Yes, of course!" I shot back, glaring at him.

He raised an eyebrow, staring at me intently. I'm so familiar with that look. I rolled my eyes. "Dad, you are overacting," I said dryly.

We were interrupted by the loud sounds of another plane taxiing along the runway. The Bell's Air. Just then it dawned on me, it's Raffy's parents.

"Is that the reason why you left Greece all of a sudden?" Dad gritted out.

"Dad," I whined, sparing him a glance. He clenched his teeth, before turning his gaze to the plane that stopped behind ours. "Not now, please. He has his reasons." I drew in a long, deep sigh before turning my gaze back to the plane that just arrived.

The aircraft door opened.

I heard dad scoff, but I just ignored it. I watched as the Valiente disembarked from the plane.

"So the old sly Duke summoned the Valientes too!" Dad commented. I snapped my head to him and frowned. 

What is he talking about?

......