Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“I’m aware.”
“You should go back.”
“I’m not going to.”
Her disapproval radiates off her like smoke. I meet her glare with one of my own. Let the old bossy Russian lady hate me; I don’t even care anymore. I’m so far out of my depth right now and basically doing anything I can to get some semblance of control back into my life.
If that means throwing a little hissy fit and moving into the room down the hall, then fine.
I know it’s petty, but it’s the best I can do.
“All right, have it your way.” Nikkita turns to leave, but hesitates. “Would you like something? Tea maybe?”
That’s a huge surprise. I’ve been here for three days, and this is the first time she’s offered to do anything for me.
“Tea would be nice, thank you,” I say, dropping my guard a little.
She leaves without a word. I’m alone in my new room, looking around at the small bed and the dressers, and I know what’s going to happen later.
The thing is, we’ve been sharing a bed, and it hasn’t been that bad.
I mean, in some ways, it’s been nice.
I like having him next to me, breathing deeply, a warm and gorgeous presence in the darkness.
And I don’t even mind when he reaches across the bed and drags me over to his side.
To use me as he sees fit.
That’s not so terrible, really.
But the thing is, there are so many rules in this house.
Like for starters, I can’t go outside. Not without at least one escort, but preferably two, and the guards take that command very seriously. They won’t even let me look at a door without Valentin’s permission.
So I’m a prisoner.
Then there’s the basement. I was exploring just yesterday and I tried to head down to take a look, but one of the young guards freaked out and made me stop. I could tell he wanted to drag me away, but he wouldn’t put his hands on his Pakhan’s wife, and so I slowly opened the door while he screeched for me to stop in Russian.
Eventually, Valentin heard the commotion and came to put a stop to it. “No basement, malishka,” he’d said with a dark smile. “Bad things down there.”
I’m pretty sure I’m living above a graveyard.
Or maybe a bunch of torture chambers.
Actually, it’s better that I don’t think of it.
Valentin has rules around when we eat, what we eat, what I watch, how much time I get to spend in the theater room, which is one of the few perks of being trapped in here, basically rules about everything.
And it’s driving me insane.
There’s a rattle and a knock at the door. Nikkita appears with a tray of tea. She sets it down on a table set up beside the windows and pours before stepping back. I sit and lean on my elbows as I take a sip.
“Oh, wow,” I say, extremely surprised. “This is delicious.”
“Thank you.” Her lips seem to soften from their customary scowl, at least for a moment. “I buy it from Russia special for Valentin.”
“This is his favorite?”
“He loves it.”
“I can see why. It’s very good.” Nikkita lingers for a moment, looking around the room. “I know you don’t approve.”
“No, it isn’t that.” She seems uncertain as she runs a hand down the comforter, smoothing it out. Fussing nervously, I realize. “Valentin will be unhappy, and it’s my job to make sure his home life is in order.”
“You think this is going to reflect on you?”
“Valentin isn’t petty.” She glares at me for a moment, jaw working. But her expression softens. “In here, you feel like you have something of your own. I understand that. But Valentin is a particular man.”
“I noticed,” I say quietly, but I swallow back further comments. This is the most Nikkita has spoken to me, and it’s the first time she’s not staring at me with pure loathing in her eyes. I don’t want to ruin it with sarcasm. “He means well, doesn’t he?”
She nods sharply. “Valentin’s father was a hard man. He demanded order. He demanded obedience.” She pounds a fist into her hand, emphasizing her words. “Valentin learned to be hard too, but I don’t think that came naturally to him.”
“How long have you known each other?”
“Since he was a boy.” She tilts her chin up. “I was his nanny.”
“I hadn’t realized,” I say, but it makes a lot of sense. I’ve noticed there’s a comfort and a familiarity between them that doesn’t exist between Valentin and anyone else. She speaks to him as an equal and isn’t shy about voicing her displeasure, and though he will reprimand her, it’s never serious, and it never seems to hurt their relationship.
And now I understand why. She’s been in his life for years.
“Did you know his mother?” I ask.
“Good woman. Strong woman. Died too young. A travesty.”