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I’m halfway through my tiramisu when the front door opens, and I hear the familiar sound of Luka’s footsteps on the marble floor. I sit up straighter, trying not to look as eager as I feel, but my eyes search for him anyway. When he finally appears in the doorway, I almost sigh at the sight of him.
His dark hair is shiny and disheveled like he has been running his hands through it, but his short-sleeved black button down fits him perfectly, highlighting the broad sweep of his shoulders, and his black pants are perfectly tailored. I feel like a mess, moments away from falling apart without him around, and he looks perfect as ever. I’m not sure what to make of it.
“Sorry I’m late,” he says, taking his seat next to me without a glance in my direction.
“Quite alright,” his father says.
His mother hums in agreement. “We were just getting to know Eve. The food is delicious.”
“Do you want any?” I ask, my voice small and shy. I reach for his plate, but he waves a hand over it, shooing me away.
“I’m fine.”
I frown. “You don’t want any—”
“I’m fine,” he snaps, reaching around my arm for the bottle of wine and filling his glass.
I pull my hand back, trying to look unfazed, but confused tears sting the corners of my eyes. I take another bite of the dessert, but it tastes like ash in my mouth.
* * *
When everyone has pushed their plates to the center of the table, I’m eager to end the meal and hide out in my room.Myroom, not Luka’s. For days, I wanted him to come home. I wanted to talk to him about what was wrong, but now I don’t even want to be next to him. Because he isn’t himself right now. Not in the way I’ve come to know him in the past couple weeks. He is the Luka I met in the dining room of The Floating Crown—cold, unfeeling, and callous. Seeing him that way makes me feel sick.
“Well,” I say, my voice shaky. “Thank you all for the company, but I’m—”
“Could you stay for a minute?” Ivan asks, crossing his hands in his lap. It’s not a question.
Katerina recognizes the cue and stands up, straightening her sweater. She gives me an awkward smile as she practically flees the room. My heart hammers against my ribcage.
“Is something the matter?” I ask, turning to Luka. He won’t even look at me.
Ivan bobs his head from side to side in consideration. “You could say that.”
Sitting at the table with Luka on my right and Ivan across from me feels like I’m being cornered. There is no way to run for the door without being stopped by one of them. Since coming to live at the Volkov mansion, I’ve never felt truly afraid. I’ve never felt like my life was in danger. Aside from the chaos at the wedding, of course. But suddenly, chills begin to work their way up my arms and legs. Everything in my body is telling me to run. To flee. But I stay put, my fingers tangled tightly in my lap.
Ivan’s false smile falls away. “We know about your previous engagement.”
The words tumble around in my brain for a few seconds before I can even register what he is talking about. When I do, I’m too confused to properly defend myself. “What? How did—”
“We are not as foolish as you thought,” he says.
“I didn’t think you were foolish.” I turn to Luka, trying to understand why my broken engagement to a man I didn’t care about matters. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“You didn’t think it would be important for us to understand that you make a habit of seducing men who hold positions of high rank within their families?” Ivan asks, his words acidic.
“I didn’t seduce him. I didn’t even know him,” I shout, desperate to understand what any of this means. Luka won’t look at me or acknowledge anything I’m saying, and I want to shake him. I want to grab his face and force his green eyes to see me, but I’m too afraid of what he would do if I touched him.
“We should kill you.” Ivan leans back in his cheer, eyeing me like I’m the meal he came to consume. “You embarrassed my son, and you are a liability. Especially after the attack at the wedding.”
“I had nothing to do with that.” I feel like I’m shouting into a black hole, my words vaporizing into nothing.
Ivan rolls his eyes. “You are good at playing the role of the innocent. A fine damsel in distress, no?”
“Luka, please,” I whisper, desperate for him to correct his father. To tell him that I didn’t do anything wrong. His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t look at me.
“We are willing to spare your life, however, if you do one thing for us,” Ivan continues as if I haven’t spoken. “Let Luka impregnate you.”
I’m too numb to grasp what he is saying, so I sit there, staring at him, like I’m drugged. He continues.
