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She stops pushing and punching us, just so we can get him to the clinic. Once the doctor arrives, she kicks us out.
Still, I remain outside.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Lipovsky?” Viktor asks when I don’t follow him.
“I’m going to stay here in case the doctor needs anything.”
“Who the fuck are you? Mother Theresa?” He gets closer. “We got him help. He’s going to be fine. Other than that, we don’t mingle with him or his mother.”
“She’s Kirill’s mother, too.”
“Does she look like his mother to you?”
“Well—”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“But—”
“I saidout. Go wait for Boss in front of his room for night duty.”
I want to punch Viktor square in his stoic face, but something tells me that wouldn’t go over so well.
Begrudgingly, I tell one of the maids to notify me about Konstantin’s condition, then I go up the stairs to wait for his majesty the tyrant Kirill. Maybe I should pretend to be sick so that I’m not trapped with him in the same room.
I consider asking Maksim for help, but I don’t want him to get suspicious—
“Sasha!” a familiar voice calls me as soon as I’m up the stairs.
Karina clutches my wrist, drags me into her room, and closes the door. As usual, it’s filled with candles and weird mojo, but she at least has the curtains drawn back.
“What happened?” she asks in an alarmed voice. “I heard the maids talking about the doctor and medical care. Is…is Kirill okay? Is that his blood on your clothes?”
“He’s as good as the devil.” I clamp my lips shut, forgetting that I’m actually talking to his sister.
“Oh, thank God.” She releases a breath.
“It’s Konstantin. He’s the one who was hurt.”
Her shoulders drop, but she says nothing.
“Don’t you want to see how he’s doing?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Yulia is probably by his side, right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s okay then. I’ll just hear about it from the maids.”
“He’s your brother, Karina. You’re not supposed to hear about it from the maids.”
“I would rather do that than see Yulia fawning all over him.” She purses her lips. “He’s the only child she ever cared about, you know. The only one she treated as her own. Bought him things, took him on trips, and gave him words of affirmation. She looked at him with love, worried about him, and offered him the whole parental package. She only ever looked at Kirill and me with disgust. Contempt, even. When I started having panic attacks and anxiety, I went crying to her and asked for help like any scared daughter would ask her mother. But when I hugged her, she pushed me away as if I were revolting and told me I got exactly what I deserved. She’s like our stepmother.”
“I’m so sorry, Karina.”
She wipes away the tears clinging to her eyes. “Stupid water coming out when it’s not needed. Don’t worry. I’m totally over that.”
“Okay.”
