“No, no, it’s fine, miss. I…understand.”
Another heavy sigh left my lips before I said, “It’s fifty shades of crazy here.”
Her sad smile was swallowed up as she pursed her lips, clearly holding something in.
“Please, eat, even though you don’t feel like it. I made something light.”
“Right,” I replied, a sardonic smile on my lips. “I’ll need all my energy for my escape.”
“That might not be a good idea, miss. Not only is it bad, but it will be dangerous. Very dangerous,” she warned.
“It’s Emilia,” I dropped to the edge of the bed and gestured for her to do the same on the couch in front of me.
“What?” she inquired as she sat.
“My name. I’m Emilia. The ‘miss’ is unnecessary,” I pointed out.
“I know your name,” she revealed, making me raise a questioning brow. “I heard Sir’s men,” she revealed. “But…I cannot call you that. You’re becoming Sir’s wife today. The queen of the manor. It’s just not…proper. Sir will have our heads if he hears your name on anyone’s lips among us, least of all me.”
Between wanting to block out the tiniest reminders of my new, albeit unwanted status, and my curiosity, I asked, “What’s your name?”
“Ksenia.”
I wouldn’t even try pronouncing that.
“How long have you worked with Viktor here?”
“It’s been over five years, but I grew up here, in the Bratva headquarters. My mother and her sister have worked in the kitchen since they were young. Sir Viktor’s father was the Pakhan then. I only became a cook here after my secondary education.”
“You mean you all work here willingly? How is that even possible?”
“They are just like any other employer. In fact, they are better. I hear the amount some of my aunt’s friends get paid for the same job, and I wouldn’t envy them. And Sir even does more than pay our monthly salaries,” she revealed, a smile on her face.
“Of course, they pay more. How else would they get anyone to stay in their blood-stained mansion?”
“It’s not the way you think, miss,” she answered, chuckling. “But let’s talk about that some other time. After breakfast, there are many things to do in preparation for your wedding.”
“Right,” I muttered. “The wedding.”
She nodded, a small smile on her face as she pushed the stool closer to the bed.
“I’ll be back for the plates in a few minutes. Then it’ll be time to freshen up and start preparing,” she disclosed, standing.
“Great,” I proclaimed, digging the heels of my palms into the plush bed on both sides.
“Please, eat,” she persuaded again, smiling uncertainly.
“Just see it as spending his money in annoyance,” she added, making me giggle.
“Things won’t be that bad,” she declared, her voice carrying a strange kind of certainty I almost wanted to hold on to.
**********
“One hour. Nothing less than perfect,” the bald guy grated as Ksenia and two other ladies, one with a fairly large box, entered the room.
“Definitely,” the older of the other two ladies affirmed, nodding.
“Good,” he remarked, his eyes darting over to where I stood by the foot of the bed with my arms folded.
