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“That is, if I win the election,” I add.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he says. “When you are ready to take over, our Russian backers will ensure our victory. They always do.”
“Yes. They always do.”
My father turns away from the window and takes his seat behind the desk. I follow, taking one of the chairs in front of him.
“Aleksandr, remember these lessons,” he says. “I am hard on you because you still have a long way to go. You are on the cusp of adulthood, and it is time you toughen up. Someone is always in the wings waiting to steal your power, and the moment you show any hint of weakness, they will strike.”
“Yes, Otets.”
He nods, seemingly satisfied. “Now, let us discuss why I asked you here. It concerns the American girl.”
Willow.
“Ambassador Baker’s daughter?” I ask. “What about her?”
“Don’t get too close to her.”
Did he see us together in the garden?
If he suspects anything…
“I have no interest in her,” I say, keeping my voice level.
“Good. We can’t have Andarusia’s future president involved with an American. It sends the wrong message to Russia. Remember where our loyalties lie.”
“Yes, Otets.”
“Show the motherland you are grateful for their support. Their money feeds you. Clothes you. Provides the same luxurious life which has made you soft. You’ve never had to take power because it was handed to you. You’ve never had to work for it. That is the difference between you and I.”
My grandfather did all the work for him, but he doesn’t see it that way.
“If I am so inadequate, why trust me with ruling this country?”
It’s all he’s told me my entire life: I am not worthy to take what he has.
His gaze hardens, his cold eyes boring into mine. The smoke of his cigar wafts in front of his face. “Because I am making you strong.”
He stands up, and the hairs prickle on the back of my neck.
“Son, I don’t ask much of you,” he says, coming around to my side of the desk. “You are expected to show up at important events with a charming smile. What you do in your free time is your own business. But when we are hosting, I expect my son to represent Andarusia and remain by my side the entire night.”
He steps closer. “Not to run off in the middle of dinner.”
My heart drops into my stomach. Did he have me followed? Does he know I was with Willow?
I will not let her suffer at anyone’s hand—except my own.
“I snuck off for a cigarette,” I say. It’s a partial truth. “I lost track of the time. I apologize.”
“I don’t want your apologies. They’re meaningless if you don’t understand the lesson. Roll up your sleeve.”
“Otets, please—”
“Do not speak. Just obey.” He takes a long drag from his cigar, looming over me.
I never feel small, except when I’m with him.
