Still, one day, shaken by a snake bite that left a mark, I told my father. Because I didn’t know much back then, but I knew what was happening to me wasn’t normal.
He, on the other hand, had other thoughts about the situation.
He said the discipline Ekaterina was teaching me was good for a boy my age. That the darkness would make me stronger. That harder things were coming in my future, and I needed to be prepared.
I’ll never forget the sound of my pulse in my eardrums when he said all that. From that moment on, rage made a home in my body. It became my fuel, my companion. My only friend.
It got me to where I am now.
Victoria’s cries grow quieter as I walk down the long hallway to the stairwell.
I put her in my wing, where no one can bother her, her room just opposite from mine. The house is large enough that she won’t have to meet anyone if she doesn’t wander off on her own. But knowing her, it’s inevitable. And if I’m being completely honest, I wouldn’t mind showing her all the ways in which I could discipline her until she understands she’s mine.
A reddish glow stretches across the mahogany floors, following my trail. The sunset has the tree branches bringing their shadows into the house, crawling across the walls that hide memories I hate thinking about.
I was four when a bullet took my mother’s life, and all my good memories—the ones where she was here—are starting to fade to black.
Only my name will stay with me forever. Wolfgang. Like her German grandfather, the man who raised her back in Mittenwald before my father found her beauty and dragged her to the States. I should hate this name—it’s yet another burden that stands against my throne.
But how could I, when it’s the only thing I have left of her?
As I descend the stairs to the ground floor, Corinne smiles at me with a mop in her hands. She stops wiping, mouth opening to say something before it closes again. She wants to ask about Victoria, I can tell.
Despite not being here to see when I brought her home, Corinne has eyes and ears everywhere.
It wasn’t part of her job description as head maid and I never asked her to do it, but over the years, she has become my trusted spy in this house.
Even after all her salary increases, I still don’t think we’re paying her enough to endure all the shit going on around here.
“Should I send some food upstairs?” she asks, framing the question carefully.
“No need. I’ll be back in a few hours. Just make sure you save something for her.”
“For…”
“Victoria.” I nod. “Her name is Victoria. Don’t let anyone wander too close to her room for now.”
“Of course,” she says, and I know she’ll do exactly that. “Mr. Rykov is in his study, in case you wanted to speak with him.”
“I do. Thank you, Corinne.”
Giving me a final smile, she resumes her work and I cross another hallway to find my father’s office. As always, the door is wide open, so I walk inside.
He’s hunched over his desk, looking at what seems to be the monthly report of how much we sold and how much we laundered. He hates doing it, but he doesn’t trust our accountant after he made an honest mistake last year that cost us a few hundred thousand in taxes—a small amount, but my father doesn’t trust many people these days. Regardless of whether they’ve wronged him or not.
Only his eyes tilt up from beneath his glasses to see me before shifting back to the documents in front of him.
“Is it done?”
I plop down on the chair opposite him, peering outside the window. “You know it is.”
“Mmm. And Nikolai?”
“He got on his knees. I should’ve sent a picture.”
“Yes,” he says, taking off his glasses and finally looking at me fully. “You should have. But I suspect it won’t be the last time he does it. That fucking rat. Throwing parties with my money…” he slowly waves the hand holding his glasses in the air. “Acting like he’s the shit now.”
“Money does that to people. You know firsthand,” I say, hinting at his wife.
