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She smiles again. “It is a big house, but you are always invited to spend time with me.”
I smile again, my anger slipping a notch when there’s another knock on the door. The beautiful blonde enters and immediately goes to Eva.
“Mama! There you are.” She tightly hugs Eva, while Eva closes her eyes and holds her. “Shall we have brunch on the terrace?”
“Yes, Sonichka.” She holds her daughter’s hand in hers as her face breaks into a beaming smile. “Tell me, have you looked into schools yet?”
Their conversation is muffled as the door shuts behind them, leaving me alone with my fake husband—the husband that I was so certain was cheating on me a few moments ago. I take in deep breaths as tears prick my eyes.
Jealousy remains but now it has a different source.
At the wedding, Eva held my hand and spoke sweetly to me. But now that her real daughter is here, I’m forgotten.
I’m being silly and petulant, but the hurt is real. Emotions surface quickly to the top, and there’s nothing I can do to hide them.
I turn my back on Andrei.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I’m not used to him expressing concern, so I just stare at him.
Andrei asks again, “What is on your mind?”
“Nothing you need to know.”
“Paige,” he asks, his tone insistent but not demanding.
The emotions overtake me as I become unsteady on my feet. Then the words pour out all at once.
“I’ve been gone for weeks now, and there’s been no contact with my family. I want to know they’re okay. My father needs me, and my sister needs me as well. I can’t just disappear like this. I have to call home.” I look back at him. “Please.”
Finally, I beg. But not for the thing he wants.
He looks away, averting his gaze from the desperate look in my eyes. “I can’t let you leave. But I can bring your family here.”
“No!” That part comes without thinking, but it takes time for me to find the right words for what comes next after the shock subsides. “I can’t let my family know that I’m married to a criminal. It would break my father’s heart.”
His expression turns to stone, and I wish I hadn’t called him a criminal. He’s silent as he watches me and I’m uncertain what will happen next.
Will he retaliate because I told the truth?
But there’s no avoiding the truth. Heisa criminal, whose business I’m never privy to.
“I’m sorry.” I try my best to sound humble. “But my father taught us differently than yours.” That sounds worse and I go back to begging again. “My father is ill, and my sister is too young to look after him. Not knowing where I am has made things worse. I’m sure of it. Please.”
His only response is to shake his head.
I have to sit down, and I hit the couch with a dull thud. He sits beside me, but I swing my legs away from him. I ignore that he is there.
“I can take care of your family,” he says. “So that they will want for nothing.”
I’m instantly suspicious of his offer.
“And then what? We’ll always be indebted to the Barinov Bratva?”
I’m careful this time not to ask how many poor families between here and Twin Rivers are indebted in exactly this type of generosity. How many men became his soldiers to pay off that debt, possibly leaving widows and orphans behind?
“It will come through a charity, a legitimate one that has always stayed clean,” he replies. “I assume your father is on disability?”
