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“Too much familiarity gives your underlings ideas, Vladimir. You should make him call you Boss Kislev.”
Asshole. Good job Vlad knows better than Sissi who he can trust.
23
Lilyana
We don’t hold back; I still have Arman’s card, so anything we take a fancy to goes on his credit. I video call Heidi, and she gushes over bridesmaid outfits before making her selection. We arrange for the stores to deliver everything to the Kislev mansion and unwind with a couple of cocktails before heading back to the Kislev mansion for the evening.
Arman hasn’t bothered to speak to me all day, but that’s understandable, in a way. I don’t feel the need to converse with my belongings, so why should he?
Despite my friend’s reassurances, I can’t suppress the feeling that Arman is messing with me. Before him, no one sought my heart, and I had no desire to hand it over. Now, I want him to take everything I have to give, even if he throws me away when he’s done. Pathetic, sure. It’s useless; I try to hate him, but it won’t stick.
“Luca!” Josie calls as we enter the foyer, but her young son does not reply. Laughter emanates from the upstairs lounge, and Morgana and Josie exchange glances.
“Let’s go inspect the damage,” Morgana says.
The giggling gets louder as we climb the stairs. We find Luca and his older cousin Steffie holding a siege in the lounge.
“Don’t move!” Steffie cries, brandishing a spatula with convincing menace. “Do you surrender?”
A voice from behind the curtain responds, “Never!”
“You can’t escape.” Luca gives the mass behind the curtain a firm poke with his foot, laughing as a far larger foot emerges and taps him in return. “You have no weapons!”
“I did have a gun,” the shrouded figure protests, “but what use is that against kitchen utensils?”
I smile. I can tell from his voice that the man under attack is Arman.
Luca furrows his small brow. “S’not fair, Steffie,” he says. “Arman can’t fight us without a thing to fight with.”
“I’d take a teaspoon at this point,” Arman’s muffled voice chimes in.
Steffie gives Luca a withering look. “You don’t help enemies! Don’t you want to win?”
“That’s enough, Stefania,” Morgana says, using her daughter’s full name so she knows Mama is serious. “It’s time for a bath. Your Papa will be back soon, and I don’t want to tell him you killed his dear friend with a fish slice.”
Arman’s head appears around the curtain. “To be fair to her, she might know something we don’t.” He sees me standing behind Morgana and clears his throat. “Hi, tsvetok. You had a good day?”
I cross my arms. “Would you have bothered to ask if I weren’t standing right here?”
“I was busy, Lili,” Arman says, disentangling himself from the curtain. “Weddings don’t organize themselves.”
“Our wedding certainly did. No one even consulted me. Can’t we just tell people we have food and flowers, and not bother getting them?”
“Like in ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes!’ Steffie chirps as Morgana shepherds her out of the room. “Remember that story, Mama? The one where the king is rudey nudey!”
Josie quickly scoops up Luca. “Come on, buddy. It’s bedtime for you.” She clings to the protesting toddler and addresses Arman. “How did you end up negotiating with these two terrorists?”
“Dulcie is in the kitchen preparing food for tomorrow’s reception. So I said I’d watch the kids for a while. I’m no match for Steffie—the girl is fierce—but Luca is pretty laid-back.”
Steffie’s voice rings out. “Tetushka Lili, will you come and read to me after my bath?”
“Of course,” I reply, never taking my eyes off Arman. “I’ll be up in a little while.”
Josie departs with the still-squirming Luca, leaving us alone.
“It’s adorable to see you playing with the kids,” I say. “They think the world of you.”
