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After not seeing him in six weeks, I thought we would spend more time talking about how married life has been, but I’m sure the conversation will circle back to me. I follow him to the island, grab our bowls, and walk them into the dining room.
“Spicy chicken curry. I held back on some of the garam masala so you wouldn’t get heartburn.”
“I don’t know what that is, but thank you,” he says, taking his plate and shoveling a large bite into his mouth.
He seems to eat without tasting anything, which I hope means he likes it. “How have you been, Dad? How are things?”
Since I haven’t seen Luka, the only thing I know about the outside world and what is going on with the Furinos is what Chiara has told me, which mostly relates to who is dating who and which men she has slept with. Not exactly high-priority information.
“Not great, kiddo,” he says, taking another bite and shaking his head. He seems to be balding more than the last time I saw him, and there are new lines in his forehead. Things must be bad. “I knew this deal with the Volkovs would stretch us a little thin, but they took more of our territory than I bargained for. We are losing money, and I’m not sure how to make up the cost. I want to expand, but I can’t get a clear answer from Ivan where their lines are, and if we push too far, we could end up toeing forbidden territory. And I don’t have any interest in breaking the deal and starting a new feud.”
“That’s too bad,” I say. My dad has never talked to me much about the business side of things, so I’m surprised he is being so forthcoming. I decided to do the same. “The Volkovs are upset about the attack at the wedding.”
“Yeah, what was that about?” he asks in a disinterested manner, as if it was a fist fight instead of an assassination attempt.
“I’m not sure, but Luka thinks I may have had something to do with it.”
He shakes his head. “No. He knows you didn’t. There is no way. Don’t worry, everything will be fine.”
“Dad, I don’t think so,” I say. “I mean, Luka will hardly speak to me. He thinks—”
“He is a Volkov,” he says, as if this explains everything. “He’ll come around. He’ll forgive you in his own time.”
“But—”
“Have they said anything about what they’re doing to learn more about the attack?” he asks, cutting me off.
“No. I mean, like I said, he isn’t really talking to me.”
“But you’re his wife.”
I sigh, pushing my curry around my bowl. I was craving it all morning, but now that we are finally sitting down to eat, I can’t stomach it. My insides turn and recoil at the sight and smell. I push my bowl away. “Our marriage is a business deal. Luka isn’t confiding anything in me.”
My father’s lips press together in frustration. “That is no way for a relationship to work. You have to talk to one another. You need to let him know he can open up to you.”
He says it like it is so simple, and I almost want to laugh. At one point, I thought I would be that person for Luka. The one person he could relax with, but not now. Now, he looks at me with the same disdain he views everyone else. The door on that reality has slammed shut.
“I don’t think that is going to happen.”
“Try,” he urges, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “What good is it for you to be here if you can’t be useful?”
“Useful?” I narrow my eyes. “What does that mean?”
He smiles. “Come on. I didn’t raise a dummy. You know what it means. Maybe ask Luka about their dealings, find out where the lines are, and report back to Dad. That would be helpful.”
My insides go cold. Luka was right. Not about me, but about my father. My marriage to Luka was meant to end the feud, but my dad can’t let it go. He wants me to be a mole on the inside. He wants me to be a double agent, reporting what I learn back to him, even though he knows how dangerous that would be for me. He knows how much of a risk it would be. He knows that if Luka found out, he could call it a breach of contract and kill me on the spot.
“Okay?” he asks, reaching across the table to pat my hand. “Just a little favor.”
A little favor that could get me killed. I can’t even look at him. I stare down at the table and shake my head, and my dad is so wrapped up in his thoughts, he doesn’t even realize tears are slipping down my face. He tells me he has another meeting and leaves before he has even finished lunch. He kisses me on the cheek as he passes and shows himself out.
* * *
When Luka comes home, I’m at the piano again. Since I’ve had nothing but free time, taking on a new hobby has been a good way to keep my mind off of things. I’ve cooked and baked just about everything I know how to make, so even my favorite pastime has lost some of its appeal.
I expect him to march past the sitting room and go straight to his bedroom, but his footsteps hesitate outside the door, and then he comes in. I spin around on the bench, heart pounding against my rib cage.
“Hi.” The word is desperate. A lifeline thrown out in hopes he’ll grab hold and pull me in. Because I’m floundering. The meal with my dad did little to comfort me. In fact, it made things worse. I’m alone in this mansion. Alone in this marriage. Alone in this world, and I need someone who cares.
