Page 22 of Fractured Ties

Konstantin nodded, but his expression was marred with annoyance. “None of us do, but thank you.”

Kolya grunted, making Maya glance his way again, but now his attention was on the other two men in the room. “Nothing happened—nothing important. We’ll say it was … a by-product of the Ivan issue. Who the fuck is going to know any different? Vadim won’t.”

“And her,” Kaz said, tipping his head in Maya’s direction, “what do you plan to do with her now?”

“She’s fine where she is,” Kolya muttered.

Konstantin’s head snapped around so he could stare at his brother. “What does that mean?”

“Just what I said. She’s fine.”

“She—”

“She’s right here,” Maya said in English.

Three pairs of eyes turned on her.

For a second, she almost wanted to shrink into the couch, and act like she hadn’t said a thing. It wasn’t that people staring at her put her on edge—quite the contrary. Her father often liked to put her on display in his business because she drew attention. He liked that she was enough to distract a man, and it gave Ivan an edge.

It was just about the only time he did like her.

Any other time, and Maya was just the little bitch who her mother had dropped off on his doorstep one December afternoon. Or, that’s how her father had always told the story, anyway. She was his liability and responsibility.

One he didn’t want and had never asked for.

She wasn’t a boy.

Not like her brother.

She wasn’t useful.

Her father never let her forget it, either. Whether it be with his words, his hand, a belt, or some other form of degradation and humiliation, Ivan Kozlov never once thought it appropriate to let his daughter live down her legacy.

She was the child of a whore.

Abandoned, and unwanted.

To be used where there was a need, and nothing more.

So was her life.

“Well, she knows Russian,” Konstantin grumbled.

Maya’s cheek twitched when he again spoke like she wasn’t in the room. “She is right here.”

“Stop doing that,” Kolya snapped at his brother.

Maya sat a little straighter at the same time Konstantin’s brow furrowed when he stared at his brother. What was happening?

“You’re not okay, are you?” Konstantin asked.

“I … fuck off,” Kolya grumbled. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that, Konstantin! Stop looking at me like I’ve got two fucking heads sprouting out of either side of my goddamn neck.”

“Is he usually this … emotional?” Maya asked the man still standing in the doorway.