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“Maybe he had a good reason to kill the priest.” Although, I hear the Irish are very religious.
“Anyone who would risk the damnation of his soul won’t sympathize with a Bratva princess.”
“I guess you’re right,” I say softly, thinking she has a point.
Stasia shakes her head and zips up her suitcase. “I’d marryLachlan O’Rourke, before that Boston monster Papa is selling me to. I’m out of here.”
Hearing how she’d rather marry Lachlan sends waves of irrational jealousy through me.
“Where are you going?” I slowly grow alarmed.
Stasia brings me to her bed. Fingering my long, blonde braid, she says, “I can’t tell you, but believe me, it’s safer if you don’t know. I don’t want that information in your head. Papa’s people have a way of knowing if someone is lying and getting information out of them. Especially women.” She kisses my forehead, and I throw my arms around her. The reality washes over me. I will be alone in this house with Papa.
At least I have Yulia.
“How can you leave? Do you have money?” I ask, wondering which guard she sweet-talked.
Stasia studies me. “I have some money. Enough. Papa doesn’t hide his extra cash very well. There’s so much of it, he doesn’t even realize it’s gone. I have enough to live on for a while. I’ll figure out how to get more when I’m settled somewhere.”
“Take me with you, please?” I grab her wrist. I can’t imagine waking up in this house without her.
“Katya, I can’t take you with me. Yulia will look after you.” She pries my fingers from her hand and stands up. “You just made the Dean’s List at East Side Performing Arts, for crying out loud. Papa didn’t let me go to college. I’m so proud of you. Keep dancing,mladshaya sestra.”
After being here for seven years, I know that meanslittle sister. I never learned to speak Russian, and Papa forbids me to speak French. He didn’t blink when I asked to attend college. It’s why I figured he’d let me have a life outside the brotherhood and not Stasia, because he had no plans to arrange my future, just hers.
“I will keep dancing.” I hug her. “Will you write me?”
“I can’t.” She shakes her head. “Papa checks the mail.”
I remember my welcome packet from East Side, then lift off the bed. “Wait here.” Running as fast I can, I even leap into a full?lancer, stretching my spread legs to dive across the hall and land in my room. Something I’ve done for years as a game, pretending that ugly carpet was filled with scorpions.
At my desk, I rifle through the paperwork I got at orientation. Thumbing through the papers, I find the details just for me. I scribble the one I need on a piece of paper and dive back into Stasia’s room, startled to see she’s got one leg out the window.
“Are you crazy?” I tug her back inside. “You’re leaving in the middle of the day?”
“Papa is across town at a meeting, and the guards are watching the main road for an ambush.” Her words send my spine tingling. “It’s supposed to snow tonight, and I can’t take a chance on being stuck in a blizzard. I’ll be fine.”
“Wait. Don’t bring your suitcase. Papa will think you left on your own. In fact…” I look around. “We have to make it look like someone took you.”
Stasia goes still. “You want him to think someone kidnapped me?”
I shrug. “This way, if he finds you, he won’t punish you.”
She grabs me in a massive hug. “Oh my God, that’s brilliant.” My sister opens her suitcase and puts her clothes away while I trash her palace of a room, releasing years of jealously.
“Here, take this. Students have mailboxes on campus. This is mine. You can write to me there. Papa doesn’t know about it. No one does.” I have a driver who brings me back and forth to school. I don’t consider him a guard. No one cares about hurting me. My father told everyone he only took me in because I’m his blood. Stasia is his jewel. I’m the daughter of his whore. “Send me your address, and I’ll try to mail you some of your clothes.”
How, I have no idea. But I’ll figure out a way.
Stasia takes the paper with my school address without looking at it and shoves it inside the pocket of her thick, white cashmere coat. “Okay.”
“Please write me and tell me where you are when you get there.”
“I’ll try.” She kisses me on the forehead again, and her eyes trail over my shoulder.
“I turned off the camera in my room.” She checks her watch. “Get out of here and do something in your bedroom to make it seem like you’ve been there the whole time. Do your stretching with that classical music you love.” She winks at me. “I’ll miss you,mladshaya sestra.”
“I’ll miss you, too.” It hurts my heart already.
