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Fucking hell. This is not how I wanted to announce any of this.
Without even glancing at me, he shakes his head and laughs. “No, she isn’t.” My father waves Anya out of the way and moves in on me. “I want to know what is going on, Ivan. I want to know right fucking now.”
I sigh. “Cora was attacked because someone believed she and I were going to get married. I decided the best way to smoke out who authorized the attack would be to continue the ruse.”
My sister drags herself back to the island and drops into a barstool. “So…you aren’t getting married?”
Cora hasn’t said a word since my father arrived, but she leans in close. “I’m sorry, Anya. For what it’s worth—”
I interrupt. “I thought the best way to ensure no one found out we’re pretending was to lie to everyone.”
“I’m noteveryone,” Anya hisses. “I’m your sister. Just because I’m not in the inner circle doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to know what the fuck is—”
Otets slashes a hand through the air, silencing her instantly. “Enough, Anya! This is bigger than your hurt feelings.”
Anya opens and closes her mouth. Ultimately, she decides to stay quiet. She crosses her arms and leans against the island while my father changes course, closing in on Cora.
Cora looks to me. Every bit of the ingrained politeness I saw from before is gone. She could handle Anya, but she is way out of her depth with the man who birthed me. Her green eyes are wide, searching my face for a way out.
“Who are you?” he asks her.
Cora’s full lips part and close. She clears her throat and sits tall. “My name is Cora St. Clair.”
He frowns. “I don’t recognize it. Are you somebody?”
Cora doesn’t understand the question. Who would understand a question like that? Isn’t everybody somebody?
Not in our world.
I move to stand next to her. “She told you who she is.”
“I don’t know any St. Clairs.”
“Oh.” Cora looks down at her lap, her head shaking. “You wouldn’t. It’s my father’s name, but he…he left us. It was just me and my mom. She’s not—Well, I’m not really from—I came to the party with a friend last night.”
“Fucking hell. You really are just a waitress.” He spins on his heel, pacing back and forth. Then he stops in front of her again. “How much of this plan was your idea?”
“What?”
“You go from waiting tables to being waited on. It’s a nice deal for you,” he accuses. “Did you set this up with one of your friends to play rich and fuck my son?”
“Enough,” I growl.
He ignores me. “I bet the assassin was one of your friends. Maybe a brother? A boyfriend?”
Cora is too shocked to even speak.
“I killed the assassin,” I tell him.
“Wonderful.” He snorts. “So now, she’s a loose end with leverage. This just keeps getting better and better.”
“I’m not—” Cora lets loose a shaky breath and tries again. “I’m not going to tell anyone anything. Ivan saved me.”
“Yes, butwhy?” He leans in close, the word hissing between his teeth. “Why are you worth his time?”
“Daddy,” Anya tries to intervene.
He turns to her. “What? Am I supposed to believebothmy children have a fetish for the lower classes?”
