Yakov cut in. “She’s joking. My daughter wouldn’t waste such precious time reading such garbage.”
Kira’s smile didn’t falter. “He’s right. I was joking. I am currently reading Bleak House by Charles Dickens. It deals with corruption in the legal system.”
Yakov cackled, saluting his drink. “She’ll be a valuable asset one day.”
“I’ve no doubt,” Ivan responded. “She’s a force.”
They reverted back to silence as Rurik and Ivan spoke. Their grown-up talk was clearly more important than ‘kids’ trying to get to know each other, even though that’s what this dinner was about. Levka hated the feeling and listened to his father’s conversation if only to be included, but with Luerna so close, it was impossible to think. The darkness around her eyes and the stress on her shoulders were prominent. She tried to cover up all this, but he had practiced staring at her from afar, and he could recognize the signs of her misery nonetheless. He had hoped by now that she was healing from her depression. Why wasn’t she better?
Levka forced his eyes down. Yakov’s threat was a looming dark cloud. If he were wiser or older, Levka might be able to make the right decision, but as it were, the only thing that could stop him was Luerna herself. This was his last chance to pull out of the wedding before the plans began. He didn’t want to waste anyone’s time or money if he couldn’t go through with it. And the only reason hewouldn’tgo through with it is if Luerna gave him a sign.
Any fucking sign.
Dinner continued for what felt like a horribly long time. He managed a few words that he wasn’t sure were intelligible, but he didn’t care to actually try.
Ivan, Rurik, and Yakov stood. “Let’s finalize the contract. Let the kids entertain themselves for a while.”
Levka watched his father disappear like he was the Grim Reaper going with God to end his life.
“This was fucking boring,” Gil announced.
Sitting at the table with the Morozov line, Gil stood out like a pumpkin in a lettuce patch. Adrik, Alexei, Kira, and Luerna had similar interconnected traits. Gil had none of their Karisma, class, or ridiculous confidence. But they didn’t seem to acknowledge those differences. He was a part of them regardless. Levka didn’t understand them. As a single child, their love for one another seemed more like an obsession.
Levka got up to flee to the bathroom. He held his face under the faucet, taking some in his mouth. He was beyond parched, and now that dinner was over, he was incredibly hungry. He hadn’t eaten during the day, his stomach in knots. But now, it was over. It was done. All that was left was the engagement party and then the wedding. Three months tops, and then what?
He’ll marry Kira.
Levka stared at his reflection. Three months to delete Luerna from all possible futures.
Levka stood straighter, determined to get through tonight with his pride intact. He yanked the door open and stiffened as Luerna leaned against the doorway. She was in his shadow, and the hallway was dark. It almost felt like a secret, greeting her here.
“Hi,” he managed.
She had her arms crossed and a curious brow. “You alright?”
Levka defensively questioned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
She shrugged. “You seem off.”
With a release of breath, he leaned against the same wall, inches from her. “Don’t really want to be here.”
Luerna nodded, and her gaze drifted down the hall. She was lingering, and Levka was curious why she was still here when the conversation was over. He was searching for hope in the most meaningless moments. “Areyoualright?”
Her head snapped to him. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He chuckled deep in his throat, and the sound wreaked havoc on her. She felt chills race along her arms. It took her a minute to realize what was humorous. She had repeated the same question, full of a defensive attitude. “I’m fine.”
“She bites,” Levka teased, a slight smirk rising on his lips. She was fun to rile, like poking a sleeping bear. It was inevitable, however, that his eyes would drift. She was close, too close, for him to not acknowledge the shadows that raced along her breasts, a cavern that got darker the deeper his eyes went. “Is there anything that you can wear that doesn’t make you look,” Levka paused to think of the right word. He doubted ‘delicious,’ ‘sexy,’ or ‘edible’ were the appropriate terms to use with someone above his station, but they clogged in his mouth like word vomit.
“Hideous?” she offered. “Fat? Poor?”
“Desirable?”
She snorted, a smile teasing, and for a brief moment, the comment warmed her, cracking a bit of her walls. But the tattoo on his clavicle caught her eye, reminding her not only was he about to marry her sister, but he was ten years younger than her. “You shouldn’t say things like that. My husband wouldn’t appreciate it. Neither would my brothers.”
“If I gave a rat’s ass what your husband would appreciate, I’d be my father.”
“You certainly seem to walk in his footsteps.”
“I feel that neither of us is what we seem.”
