Page 22 of Champagne Wrath


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He opens his mouth to say something as we get out, but we’re interrupted by the sharp click-clack of heels on tile. My mother rounds the corner like a sudden storm. I imagine thunder and lightning and brimstone and sulfur all trailing behind her.

“Misha, I’ve spoken to your chef about dinner tonight. It’s going to be a family affair.” She turns to my cousin. “That means you, too, Konstantin.”

I frown. “He and I have—”

“I don’t care what you have,” she snaps. “Work, play, a dentist appointment—all of it can wait. You can spare an hour to sit with your family and break bread.”

Before I can argue further, she turns and stomps off back the way she came. I glance towards Konstantin, who has a shit-eating grin smeared across his face. “How does your mother factor into your ‘no one is invincible’ theory?” he cackles.

“Make yourself scarce until dinner,” I warn in a grim mutter.

Konstantin slinks away, far too pleased with this turn of events. Sighing, I follow my mother to the atrium, where she’s set up camp. She has an overflowing writing desk and a steaming mug of tea.

I check to make sure we’re the only two people in the room. “Where’s Paige?”

“Upstairs,” she says. “Resting. She’s gone through a lot.”

“I’m aware of what she’s gone through, Mother.”

“Are you?” she asks accusingly, scribbling with greater intensity as she refuses to look up from her papers. “Because sometimes, it seems like you’re as oblivious and insensitive as your father.”

“I’m not oblivious to anything.” I speak with excessive calm to hide my irritation. I know her feelings about my father. I don’t welcome the comparison.

“What about your wife? That woman is pregnant with your babies. You realize that, don’t you?”

“I’m not so busy that that’s escaped my notice.” I sigh. “Are you getting all your frustrations out before dinner? Or do you plan to keep up this attack through the entrees? I’m sure that’ll make for lively entertainment for the whole family.”

At that, she sets her pen down and looks up at me at last. “Your father kept a separate bedroom,” she says softly. “He only visited me when his mistresses were busy. When there was no one else.”

“Mother—”

“Did you know that there was a point in the beginning of our marriage when I actually thought I loved him?”

I blink, momentarily stunned. “I can’t imagine that.”

“Of course not. By the time you children were born, any remnant of that love had long since curdled. Our marriage was loveless and hopeless. But before I realized he would never change, I had hope.”

“Paige and I are not—”

“Paige is not like me,” she continues as if I’d never spoken. “She will not stay just because you refuse to divorce her. She will not sacrifice her pride or self-respect for the sake of your rules. She’ll take those children and leave—and by God, Misha, I will not allow you to alienate that girl. I will not let you break her heart.” She’s standing now, all fire and brimstone, with one manicured nail thrust in my face. For a small woman, she’s fierce.

“She’s not going to leave, Mother.”

“I know that.” She jerks her chin upwards and sets her jaw firmly. “Because I will be moving in tomorrow to ensure it. I’ve already had the maids prepare my room.”

“Excuse me?”

She nods, daring me to defy her. “If you refuse to take care of your wife, then I will. I’ll stay for as long as she needs me to.”

“She doesn’t need you.” More importantly, I don’t need my mother living in my house. There’s a reason I bought her a house in another neighborhood with an entire city between us. “She has me.”

My mother just scowls. “I think we both know that that’s not true.”

14

PAIGE

There’s a strange energy at dinner.

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