Before I can say anything, the door to my bedroom opens and my focus immediately shifts in that direction. Teal comes out first, alone, wearing her poker face, which is a typical expression of hers.
She really only laughs and smiles easily around her husband and son. Gone are the days when I was the only one she smiled at.
I might have hated Ronan a bit at first for taking her away, but I couldn’t hold a grudge for long, considering how much he means to her.
How alive she is when he’s around.
Elsa is arm in arm with Anastasia, who’s now wearing a pair of my sweatpants, and although she’s rolled them up her stomach, they’re still skimming the ground.
Fuck. Seeing her in my clothes is a fucking turn-on.
Would I be yelled at and blacklisted from the next Christmas family gathering if I kicked everyone out so I could fuck her against the door?
I’d probably take that risk.
However, my master plan is put to a halt when I realize Anastasia’s attention isn’t on me.
She’s focused on something Elsa is showing her on her phone and smiling. It’s soft, demure, and appears genuinely happy.
“So that’s your son?” she asks in that delicate voice of hers.
“Yeah, his name is Eli.”
“He…doesn’t look anything like you.”
“I know.” Elsa furrows her brow, appearing dejected. “He’s taking after his father and grandfather, but I’m holding on to a slight bit of hope that his personality will at least resemble mine.”
“Don’t hold out too much hope, princess.” Dad interferes with his usual warmth, as if we weren’t having a heavy as fuck conversation just now. “He’s becoming a King more and more.”
“Dad! You’re supposed to be on my side. Don’t you want your grandkid to take after you?”
“Well, I still have Remi and the dozen children Knox said he’s planning to have.”
Anastasia’s eyes widen and her cheeks flush a deep shade of red while Elsa grins.
“I never said that.” I try to be calm but fail.
“Really, now? I’m pretty sure I heard you say before how comfortable you feel around—” I place a hand to his mouth, cutting him off mid-sentence, and shake my head.
His eyes shine and Teal steps between us, staring us down, which is comical at best because we’re tall and she’s so small that it takes effort on her part. “What are you two hiding? Let me in.”
“Nothing you need to worry about, T. And you might need to stop craning your neck before you sprain it. I don’t want Ron on my case.”
“Screw you.” She elbows my side.
“Oh, you’re fucked, T.” I release Dad to grab her ticklish spot. She starts snorting and begging me to stop, but I don’t.
It’s how I used to cheer her up when she was down, which was most of the time, before she met her husband.
I catch Elsa telling Anastasia, “I’m the grown-up in all of this. Excuse the children’s behavior.”
“You’re on, Ellie,” I say, then Teal and I bring her into the midst of us. Even though she tries to fight it, she’s helpless when we both attack her ticklish side.
“I’m sorry, Jane,” Dad tells her with a smile. “My children aren’t usually this immature.”
She shakes her head, grinning, though her mannerisms are still reserved. “You have a beautiful family, Mr. Steel.”
“Ethan is fine. After all, you’re part of us now.”
I expect Anastasia to be shy, maybe shocked, but her smile drops and she looks absolutely horrified.
As if a ghost from her past has appeared in front of her.
30
ANASTASIA
When Kirill said Aleksander would keep an eye on me, I didn’t think it would be close.
As in, across from the firm close. As in, he’s in his car, watching me like a hawk while I walk through the front entrance with coffee.
Usually, Gwen gets the coffee, or Chris. Anyone but me basically, since I try to keep human contact as minimum as possible.
But today, both of them were busy and I had to go. I had to cross the distance to the coffee shop and pretend that I wasn’t being shadowed by a scary man in a black suit.
It’s been like this for a week. Ever since I was ambushed in my apartment by Kirill and Adrian and told that I had a role to play.
That no matter what I do, I’ll never stop being the Bratva’s princess.
As promised, Adrian must’ve not told my father, or he would’ve sent his guards to fetch me.