Igor is also in high spirits, probably due to the successful ransomware attack on a Swiss corporation this morning that netted us eight figures. Elena is relaxed as well since no one is bickering, watching a plate of blini get set in front of each of us.
Everyone’s apparent contentment only contributes to my animosity.
I’ve never begrudged my family before. I’ve accepted what I was born into, striven to thrive in this environment, and appreciated the privileges of being a Sokolov. I’m having a hard time remembering what those are.
The money? There’s nothing I want to buy.
The influence? There’s no favor I’m trying to sway.
No matter where I go or what I do, the shadow of my name will follow. Igor ispakhan, and Aleksandr is his heir, yet I’m the one who deals with our allies and enemies alike. If I’d dared to disappear with Carina, I would have drawn more danger in her direction.
I pick at my dinner—solyanka, then beef stroganoff—wishing I’d poured that second glass of vodka, as polite conversation echoes around me.
Maksim strolls in right after medovik is served for dessert. “Dinner was tonight?”
I don’t buy the overdone surprise in his voice, but everyone else appears to. Maksim is rarely here regardless of when he’s supposed to be or not required to be.
“Dinner is every night,” Aleksandr drawls, still unusually chipper.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Maksim asks him, taking his usual chair to my left. “I think I see a smile.” He glances over at me. Grins. “Is that a hickey on your neck?”
It is a hickey. I’ve also got a bruise across my chest from the seat belt after I ran the silver sedan off the road. I thought both marks were covered by my shirt.
“Didn’t the maid you were fucking get fired?” he continues.
I remain silent, which is typically the best strategy to lose Maksim’s interest. He has a short attention span. Also because I’ve never flaunted women the way my father and brothers enjoy doing and I have no intention of starting now.
“You must have had some fun in Paris. No wonder you stayed for so long.”
“Or Dublin,” Igor says. “He stopped there on the way home.”
The look he gives me is speculative, like he’s truly considering whether my stop in Ireland was simply an excuse to have sex in another country.
“I had business to discuss with Cillian,” I say stiffly.
That trip is not something I feel like discussing with the dysfunctional group known as my family. I’ve always preferred withholding certain information to outright lying. It’s less likely to catch up to you.
“Typical,” Maksim states, picking up a fork and stabbing his cake.
I look at the knife placed next to my plate, seized with the violent urge to embed it somewhere. I can’t breathe suddenly, suffocated by this huge house and all of its animosity.
I stand before I’ve consciously decided to, the scrape of chair legs against the floor excessively loud in the cavernous dining room.
For the first time in my life, I walk away without being excused or providing any explanation. I go straight out the front door, into the garage, grab the keys to a car, and drive until the pressure in my chest eases enough for me to pull in a full exhale. Wishing the entire time that I were headed toward something. Toward someone.
CONFESSIONS
Enzo wasn’t lying; Nico Morello is young.
And handsome.
And cruel.
He slaps me on the tarmac, in front of ten men who must work for him and not my father. At least, I hope they don’t. For his many failings as a parent, I’ve never seen Salvatore raise a hand to my brothers, and he’s never touched me with anything except affection. Then again, he offered me to this man, so he clearly cares a lot less for my welfare than I thought.
I don’t react to the slap, don’t flinch or cry or cower, and that appears to infuriate Nico more.
I eye the gun of the guard nearest to me, understanding why I was never taught to use one. They didn’t bother to bind my hands. They don’t see me—a woman—as any sort of threat, and if there wasn’t so many men surrounding me, I’d risk proving them wrong right now. It’s smarter to wait, to bide my time, but I will act. I don’t care if I die trying to escape. I’d rather die than spend my life with this man.
