He had short black hair along with a neatly trimmed circle goatee, both always immaculately kept. Romanov was by choice a vegetarian; this, combined with his avid love of swimming, kept him trim and in outstanding shape. Today, Romanov was casually dressed in a pair of white slacks with a blue and white striped nautical-looking short-sleeved shirt. His bright cognac-brown eyes burned with an intensity that showed his razor-sharp intellect and unparalleled drive to dominate and control the world around him.
A young woman in her late twenties dressed in a snug teal jumpsuit quietly entered the high-tech office and walked over beside Romanov. She easily stood six feet tall and anyone admiring her physique would see that she, like her father, was fanatical about her physical condition. Her face was angular with hauntingly deep-set hazel-colored eyes. The young woman’s long black hair was tied in a ponytail that went halfway down her muscular back. She was unmistakably her father’s daughter.
“Is she really back so soon?” asked the girl, as she peered up at the screen as the helicopter doors were opened by two of Romanov’s well-armed security personnel. She pursed her lips and took in a deep breath as she intently watched her twin sister, equally attired in a jumpsuit, this one tan, as she stepped onto the ship’s deck.
“Yes my dear Alexandra, your sister Nika is home,” replied Romanov, lovingly patting his daughter’s well-manicured hand.
Alexandra and Nika Romanov were identical twins. They not only looked alike, but they also always dressed alike. Thousands of kilometers could separate them, yet they would always arrive on time dressed in exactly the same outfit, just in different colors. This was the only way that her parents could tell them apart as children.
“She looks tired,” said Alexandra sympathetically, as she watched her sister slowly climb down a set of metal stairs leading down from the helipad.
“Don’t worry too much, I am sure that your sister has done her part and has obtained what we are looking for,” said Romanov.
Alexandra watched impassively as her sister walked, under escort, from the helipad through the main deck of the yacht towards her father’s office, located in the luxurious aft lower level. “Father, are you sure we are not pushing things too fast?” asked Alexandra, as she smoothly moved behind her father’s tall antique eighteenth century wooden chair.
“Alexandra, my dear, this is not like you. You are starting to make me nervous,” said Romanov, reaching up and lightly squeezing his daughter’s soft pale-skinned hand. “Your sister is the most resourceful person I know at obtaining, how would you say, the unobtainable. If she is back, then she has the missing pieces of the puzzle with her.”
Alexandra looked down at her father and smiled at him. “Perhaps I am being overly melodramatic, but please remember father, we are risking everything we own on this venture, and I for one won’t relax until we have what is rightfully ours.”
“Your mother would be proud of the women you have both become, but Alexandra, you worry too much my dear; it’s truly not good for you.” Tamara Romanov, the girls’ mother, died almost ten years ago from cancer. Alexandra, the more pragmatic of the twins, had taken over the role of matriarch and looked after her father and his business affairs with cold efficiency.
Seconds later, there was a knock. The door to Romanov’s office slowly opened and one of his impeccably dressed security guards entered the room. “Sorry to intrude sir, I have your daughter waiting outside the door,” said the guard respectfully.
. “Very good, show her in,” said Romanov.
With a nod, the guard opened the door and politely waited for Nika to enter the room.
With a slight nod to the guard, Nika strode into the room, locking eyes with her father. Her twin sister was standing guardedly behind him like an eagle waiting to pounce on some poor field mouse. She quickly scanned the room and with an unconcealed smirk, she noticed that her father had extensively re-decorated the room since she was last aboard. There were several new paintings by Van Gogh and Rembrandt adorning the walls, along with four ancient Chinese vases from what Nika suspected was the Third or Fourth Century. The magnificence of the room was designed deliberately to awe Romanov’s guests, but all it elicited from Nika was a bored indifferent shrug. Money and material gains no longer interested her. She now only lived for the rush that came with her high-risk lifestyle. Nika always knew that she would die young and yet somehow, deep down inside her cold heart, she welcomed it.
Romanov saw the uncaring look in his daughter’s unemotional brown eyes and realized with a heavy heart that he was losing her. Ever since her unfaithful husband’s death from an overdose last year, his beloved Nika had embarked on a self-destructive path. Until now, he had been able to manage it, but seeing the lost look in her eyes, Romanov knew things were getting worse. Standing, he smiled warmly, walked towards Nika, and wrapped his arms around her. He gave her a long hug followed by a quick kiss on each cheek.
“Please my beloved, please come in and take a seat,” said Romanov cheerfully, as the guard pulled out an ornately carved chair that had once belonged to Louis XIV of France for her.
Nika sat and looked up towards her father. “I am sorry to say father, but I cannot stay long,” said Nika with an accent that, like her sister’s, was a mix of French and Russian.
“Nika, please reconsider,” replied Romanov, perplexed at his daughter’s behavior. “My dear, we haven’t seen you for months, and now you are already planning to leave. Please, say you will stay at least for one night.”
“No, father, I cannot. In fact, I need to be on my way shortly, if I am going to make my next appointment in the States,” said Nika brusquely, as she reached into a pocket, pulled out her silver cigarette case, removed one and lit it. She knew her father had never smoked a day in his life and thoroughly detested the smell of it, but she did not care; she needed a smoke, and that was all there was to it.
Alexandra could see the game her sister was playing, and she shot her sister a look that said back off now…or else.
Nika saw the expression on her sister’s face, shrugged and ignored her.
Romanov saw what was happening. He struggled to smile. “Nika my dearest, please reconsider and stay,” he said, his voice almost pleading.
Nika removed the smoldering cigarette from her lips and crushed it in an ornate and expensive-looking China cup on the table.
Both Alexandra and her father winced at the latest display of rebellion from Nika.