“What do you want me to do with him?” Maksim questioned me about the man who’d just threatened my wife and destroyed my house.
This was about to spiral and had to be contained. “Don’t touch him further. Just drop him off at the Volkovs’ front door.”
Back inside, I found Grisha sitting at the island on one of the only chairs that was still intact. He was smoking his cigar while reading on his phone.
Aunt Lena was waiting beside him. “Where’s the girl?”
I walked to the freezer and took out a bottle of vodka. “If you’re referring to my wife, then Mila is upstairs with Bandit.”
“Is she clearing out the master bedroom?”
I knew exactly what she was getting at, but I ignored it. “No, she’s resting right now.”
“Must be nice. We’ve been traveling for hours, and you haven’t so much as offered us a drink or a bed.”
“Would you like some vodka?”
“I’d like to go to sleep, and the sooner Mila gets the master bedroom ready, the happier I’ll be.”
Her entitlement was staggering. “You’re welcome to stay in our guest room.”
She raised one eyebrow at me. “I think you forget who you work for.”
I poured a generous amount of vodka into my glass and tossed it back with a hiss. “Oh, trust me. I don’t forget that.”
Grisha grunted but didn’t look up from his phone.
“I understand that Mila has been attempting to play house here, and although I commend her attempts, the master bedroom belongs to us.”
“The only people who sleep in my marital bed are Mila and myself.”
Her eyes widened, and then she looked over at Grisha, who snorted with amusement but didn’t look up.
“What about that mutt?”
“Bandit? What about him?”
“Will it be staying in the backyard while we’re here?”
“Bandit will be living inside with the rest of us.”
She lifted her chin at me. “You’re losing control.”
I looked around the room. Remnants of the fluffy tree and glitter were everywhere. Everything that had made this place a home had been smashed by the fight. I felt bad knowing how much effort Mila had put into her Christmas tree and the rest of our home’s decor.
I was losing control, but that was not my fault. It was because Grisha continued to fail to see Sergei’s staggering faults. None of this would have happened if he hadn’t started that fight at the Volkovs’ bar.
My phone buzzed.
Yuri: Issues with the Canadians, call me
“Make yourself at home,” I told them both. “I need to go out.”
Lena looked at Grisha for support, but he ignored us both. She lifted her chin in defiance. “We’ll talk more about the sleeping arrangements tomorrow.”
I refrained from telling her I wouldn’t be changing my mind. Instead, without looking back, I moved upstairs to my bedroom. I found Mila sitting on the bed with her chin on her knees. She looked small, and folded in on herself in a way I didn’t like.
Too quiet.
