He held my gaze for a long moment.
“You’re very comfortable issuing orders.”
“I grew up in a house where men shouted them constantly, and I learned to shout them right alongside them,” I replied. “None of this is new to me. I am a Chernykh after all.”
That shut him up, and everyone got back to work at once. I gave orders and watched as the sofa was repositioned and the rug centered just the way I wanted it. The painting was rehung, and I stepped back, tilting my head slightly. The penthouse felt different already, as if it was a little less like it belonged to him and a little more like something that was shared between the two of us. A joint territory. Or at least a place that was being contested for. Mikhail approached cautiously after I was almost satisfied with everything and could not think of anything else I wanted to change.
“Anything else, Mrs. Romanov?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said without hesitation. “I want access to the terrace garden downstairs.”
“That area is monitored.”
“I assumed.”
“It’s not designed for leisure.”
“Then redesign it.”
He glanced at Viktor again, who only sighed faintly in a ‘just do whatever she wants’ kind of way. The two of them had spent years with Fyodor, who issued them orders, and I had tired them of them in just a few hours. I quite enjoyed being such a big problem.
“I’ll review it and make sure it is done,” he said.
“Good,” I replied, walking towards the hallway.
“And rotate the guards near the east wing, please,” I added casually, making both of them freeze just as they were turning around.
“What?” Viktor asked.
“The tall one with the scar on his chin stares too long. It makes me rather uncomfortable to have him just standing there for hours on end.”
Viktor’s expression sharpened instantly.
“He won’t again. I will make sure of it.”
“I know you will.”
I didn’t look back, but I heard the quiet order given in Russian behind me. The good thing about Viktor’s men was that they were rather efficient. I liked that about them. Just as I was beginning to settle in, I suddenly heard boot steps going down the hallway, and a quick shift happened all around the penthouse. Viktor was efficient indeed.
I didn’t smile even though it felt like a little win, but I simply noted it. I noticed everything after all. That was the thing about captivity. You either let it swallow you, or you map it and bend it according to your will. I had already been mapping it, but now it was time to bend it. I walked towards the spare bedroom, and the door opened with a soft click. It had neutral walls and was filled with empty spaces.
I could see a window overlooking the water, which made me realize it was perfect.
“I want this cleared today so when my things arrive tomorrow, they can simply be kept here,” I told Anya.
“Of course, Elisse. It will be done.”
“And bring me the swatches from the linen inventory. I’m replacing the cushions in the living room.”
“The beige ones in the hall?”
“All of them.”
She nodded, disappearing quickly, and I moved to the window, pressing my fingertips against the glass. The city stretched below us, bright and alive, and somewhere out there, my brothers were still searching for me. I was certain they would be planning and preparing. I could almost feel Iosif’s anger vibrating through the skyline. They would come. They always did. Fyodor must have hidden me really well for them to be taking so long to get to me. But until they came, I would not sit here waiting like a relic in a tower. If I were in this cage, I would carve it into something of my own.
By late afternoon, the penthouse no longer felt sterile. Anya had sent the servants at once, and everything I wanted had already been bought and delivered. Fabric samples were spread across the dining table. Swatches of emerald, sapphire, and deep burgundy dominated the minimalist space, filling it with blooming color. Quick charcoal sketches littered the coffee table, dominated by sharp lines of imagined silhouettes.
I worked quickly and furiously, designs pouring out of me like something long restrained. I had drawn a dress with an asymmetrical neckline and another with a coat structure and more severe lines. I was no longer thinking about perfection but simply moving and creating and doing what felt right.
