“Really? I hadn’t noticed the time. Feels like I’ve just been on a little mini-vacation.”
The corner of her mouth twitches in what might be a smile before she quickly extinguishes it. “All expenses paid, too.”
I roll my eyes. I don’t particularly feel like bantering with the woman who birthed a psychopath, but the only alternative is staring at the ceiling and cursing my fate.
“Where were you all this time?” I ask. “I was surprised not to see you front and center at the ceremony. It was really a lovely affair.”
“I was out of town,” she explains. “I came back this morning to learn about what had happened.”
“Guess that makes me your daughter-in-law. Should I start calling you Mom now?”
“You are at liberty to call me whatever it is you want. Even if it’s not flattering.”
I almost smile at that. I can’t deny that having someone here talking to me does help quell the mania I can feel creeping in around the edges.
I exhale, but it doesn’t help. Not in the slightest. “Did you find out what happened to my brother?”
“He wasn’t harmed, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Okay. Okay then.” Lie or not, it makes me feel some relief. At least I can pretend, until proven otherwise.
“Lyubimaya,” she says gently, “starving yourself is not going to help anything.”
“Says you. I think it might.”
“Try a croissant,” Yulia insists. “They’re fresh from the oven.”
I can tell. The smell is teasing my nose and making my stomach growl. I dig what’s left of my nails into the wooden bedpost, but it doesn’t distract me from the hunger.
So, with a frustrated growl, I force myself to my feet and shuffle towards her. The tray is laden with croissants, butter, assorted jams, and a plate with scrambled eggs, fat sausages, crispy potatoes, still-sizzling bacon.
“You went all out, huh?”
“I had to convince you to eat somehow.”
“How do you know if I’m eating or not?” I ask. “You’ve been out of town.”
She raises her eyebrows. “I run this household, Olivia. Who do you think the maids report to?”
“I would have thought they reported to the Head Asshole in Charge.”
“He doesn’t concern himself with the less-important work,” she says. I notice a little twinge of humiliation in her tone. “He delegated those jobs to me when he took over as don.”
“Where is his father?”
“He had a stroke many years ago,” she tells me. “At the time, Aleksandr was in Russia dealing with our business interests there. It was a sensitive period and he couldn’t return right away. So I took over for my husband.”
“How enthralling.” But I can’t help the tiny bit of genuine interest that seeps into my voice. This woman has seen things, done things. She knows how this world works. Maybe I can learn enough from her to find my way out of it.
“It was the most exciting four years of my life.”
“Aleks was in Russia for four whole years?”
“He moved back and forth. But there was another Bratva that was threatening our territory. He needed to make sure our business interests were stable before coming back here.”
“And he did what he set out to do?”
She smiles. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
I stare at the croissants as though I’m having the conversation with them, but I still don’t make a move to pick one up. Resist, says the stubborn little asshole inside of my head. Don’t give up the fight.
But it’s getting harder and harder to stay strong. They look like buttery little pillows.
“It must have been hard for you to step down after having that kind of power,” I mumble just to keep my lips moving.
She shrugs. “It was never meant for me. I was just holding the throne for my son.”
“Still…” I can see something like regret in her eyes. “You never hoped he would just stay in Russia?”
“That would certainly have made your life easier. Mine, too, in a manner of speaking. But no, I knew he’d never stay. We are Russian, but he was born and raised here. He was always going to come back.”
“Not exactly what I asked.”
“I didn’t want to be the one solely in charge, Olivia. But I did—I do—want a seat at the table. I think I deserve that much after everything I did to keep this ship above water while he was gone.”
I nod. “It’s a reasonable ask.”
“Maybe to you. But in this world, it’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” I blink. “You did the job already.”
“The men weren’t aware that I was acting on my own,” she explains. “They believed Aleksandr was relaying instructions from abroad.”
“And Aleks didn’t mind that?”
“He was young and he had a lot to deal with in Russia. He nearly died while he was over there.”
“How?”
“A battle with the enemy,” she says. “He took a bullet to the chest mid-fight.”
“And someone got him out of there?”
She shakes her head. “No one got him out, Olivia. He just kept fighting.”
“Is this supposed to scare me?”
She looks almost hurt by that. “I’m not trying to scare you, Olivia. I’m only trying to help.”
I try to tell myself I have nothing to feel bad for, considering the position I’m in. But I do feel like a bitch. It’s not in my nature to turn away from kindness.
I blame Aleks. He’s not even in the room and he’s bringing out the worst in me.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “I know your hands are tied. I’m just—”
“Frustrated,” she says. “I know you are. But, if I may be so bold as to suggest it, eating might help.”
She gives me an apologetic smile, and with that, I can no longer resist the temptation. So I reach out and grab a croissant. I can’t be bothered to fuss with the butter, so I just bite right into it.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe.
She laughs. “Good, aren’t they?”
“Orgasmic.”
We sit in silence as I demolish five of the seven croissants sitting in their dainty little breadbasket. I wash them down with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
“Feel better?” Yulia asks when I’m finished.
“Much.”
She nods. “Good. You know, darling, this doesn’t have to be horrible for you.”
I push myself off the chair and take two steps back. So much for the good vibes provided by the croissants.
“If you’re actually trying to suggest that I accept this marriage, then you’re delusional.”
“He can be cruel,” she continues. “But he can also be fair.”
“He abducted me because my brother was doing his job, then he forced me to marry him because my brother didn’t do what he wanted. Which part of that is ‘fair’ in your eyes?”
“It’s the way the Bratva works.”
“Well, it’s not how my world works. Or anyone else’s. So you can understand why I don’t want to give up on it just yet.”