Page 112 of Queen’s Gambit

I smirked.

“Impossible.”

Lilya – Three Weeks Old

Yulianna

I’d just gotten Lilya down when the nursery door opened. I looked over my shoulder and swore in my head when I saw Christov.

“I need you to sign this,” he said, holding out a piece of paper.

“Shh, I just got her to sleep,” I growled.

Lilya had been colicky lately and hadn’t been sleeping. He rolled his eyes at me like I hadn’t been the one spending every waking moment with her and didn’t know what I was talking about. He hadn’t even held her, not that I cared, but it was the attitude. Checking to make sure she was still sound asleep, I kissed her forehead and walked out into the hall, closing the door behind me.

He held out the paper, and I took it, reading it over before I laughed.

“You’re joking, right? You want me to sign off that your illegitimate son with your live-in whore is mine? Have you lost your mind?”

Smack.

I hadn’t expected the slap. Christov grabbed my arms and pushed me up against the wall, getting right in my face.

“You will sign,” he growled, and I spit in his face. “Bitch,” he yelled and threw me down the hallway.

I winced as I hit the floor and slid into a chair. Christov stomped toward me, and I glared up at him. Now that Lilya was born, I would kill him myself. As he reached for me, I leaned back and kicked up, catching him in the chest and forcing him back.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

The devil was in his eyes as Christov stood there, clenching his hands into fists. But I held firm, not moving. He sucked in a deep breath before taking a single step back and held up his hands like he was surrendering. That was an act I didn’t believe for one second.

“Let’s make a deal.”

“What kind of deal?”

“I know you still love Edmundo.” I didn’t say anything and didn’t flinch. “You don’t have to respond. I love Alina.”

“Poor her,” I said, and his nostrils flared. “Just get on with it.”

“Fine. If you want to see Edmundo once a year, for a few days, I’ll overlook it.”

I sneered.

“You move your mistress into the house we share, drag her to my bachelorette getaway with you, and your deal is granting me a few days a year? Oh, how fucking kind. Shall I grovel at your feet with thanks?” I pushed myself up, very aware of the heavy candlestick holder on the decorative table right beside me. “I think not. Try again and make it a real offer this time.”

Christov’s jaw twitched. I hadn’t foreseen having this card to play, but if he was going to offer it, then I would make sure it won me a whole lot more than a few chips.

“Twice a year.” I scoffed and crossed my arms. Christov sighed. “Four times a year for a weekend.”

“Make it a week, and you have a deal.”

“Fine four times a year for a week.” He held out the papers and I shook my head at him.

“Do I look like I was born yesterday? I want it in writing that you’re offering me this deal with Eddie. You can leave out the why and his name. Just put that we have agreed to an open marriage and you can’t come after me for adultery and steal my inheritance.”

“I can’t put it in writing.”

“Oh yes, you can, or no deal. No one will see it other than my lawyer and yours. Do it, or that son of yours will remain a bastard forever. You can take your chances that we’ll conceive again, but it might take years. If I don’t claim him, what will your staunch parents think? Do you believe they’ll accept Sabastian and his mother, the prostitute?”