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Nico pauses to look at me fiercely, and after a moment, his expression softens. “Then what happened?” he asks, seeming to brace himself.
I don’t know if I can finish my story. Just thinking about the intense rejection that followed brings tears to my eyes. But Nico watches me expectantly, slowly settling back onto the bed when I don’t tell him right away.
“I don’t think Pyotr likes me,” I breathe finally. Then the rest of it leaves me in a rush. It’s the only way I can get out what really happened.
So I race through how Pyotr admitted he made a mistake in sleeping with me. How I ran without thinking. Nico stiffens when I talk about stumbling upon three men playing cards. And when I tell him how drunk they were, how they grabbed me, he goes deathly pale.
The color bleeds from his lips even, and steel shines in his eye as I glaze over the way they touched me, violated me, and how close they really came to raping me.
Once again, I’m faced with the stark contrast of Pyotr’s gentle, scintillating touch. How he set my soul on fire. And though he realized after taking my virginity that he doesn’t want me, I can’t bring myself to think of it as a violation. Not when I compare it to those horrible, revolting men.
Tears stream down my cheeks as I finish my story, telling Nico how Pyotr arrived just in time. How he killed my attackers and took me back to my room. How he kept me safe the rest of the night.
“I’ll kill him,” Nico hisses when I bring the story to a close.
“What?” I ask, panic fluttering in my chest.
“That fucker deserves to die. He’s done nothing but treat you horribly. He took advantage of you. He failed utterly to protect you. I want to kill him with my bare hands. Fuck the contract. He doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you, let alone touch you ever again.”
I’ve never seen my brother so mad. Not even the day he found out Anya had been keeping their little girl a secret from him for years. My brother’s face twists in rage, possessed by a fury that almost matches the look on Pyotr’s face when he found me stripped naked in front of those men.
Nico shoves off the bed, making a beeline for the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” I ask, panicked.
“To cut that Russian bastard open from nose to navel,” he snarls.
“Nico, no!” I hiss, jumping up from the mattress to grab my brother’s hand. It takes all my strength to slow him down, and I lean into the effort, trying to drag him back from the door. “Pyotrdidprotect me,” I insist. “He saved me.”
“I don’t fucking care.”
“Nicolo, you can’t kill him,” I plead. “It will definitely cause a war between our families. And the whole reason I’m in this situation is so we can avoid a war.”
I can’t admit that part of why I don’t want my brother to kill Pyotr is because I still have feelings for him. Especially now that it seems Pyotr doesn’t want me. That would only make me look crazy, and Nico wouldn’t believe me. So I focus on the one indisputable argument that might make Nico pause.
“Please, Nico,” I breathe, clinging to my brother’s arm.
Tension radiates from him, making him quiver with rage. But still, Nico turns to look at me. “After everything he’s done to you, you still want to protect him?” he demands, his nose flaring furiously.
“I’m protectingyou,” I insist. “I just… can’t stand the thought of losing you. Or Cassio or Lucca. And that’s what we risk if you go off half-cocked and start a war with the Matron. So please, just let it be.”
Nico remains quiet for a long time, conflict waging visibly across his features.Notdoing something is clearly going to take all my brother’s self-restraint. And I suppose that’s not a surprise. He’s grown up in violence. That’s his solution for so many things. Especially when it comes to protecting his family.
Finally, the tension eases from his shoulders. He releases a heavy sigh and turns to face me.
“Okay, Scout,” he promises, his voice edged with disapproval. But he pulls me into a warm hug, enveloping me in his strong, comforting arms.
And it feels so good to be wrapped in the sure, safe embrace of my brother, who I know will never reject or abandon me. It takes all my strength to fight back the wave of tears threatening to be unleashed. But I’ve cried enough already. It’s time to dust myself off and carry on.
Because I face a lifetime of this struggle if I marry Pyotr. And I’ll endure every minute of it to protect my family.
24
SILVIA
The doorbell rings as I shrug into my fleece-lined baby-blue corduroy coat, and I pull my locks free to let them fall down my back. It’s Saturday, the seemingly designated date night with Pyotr, which he’s been sticking to religiously over the past several weeks since we got back from New York.
Giving a resigned sigh, I check my image one last time in the mirror before heading down the stairs. Alfie’s already at the door, welcoming Pyotr into our home with a formal bow.
