“You’re a fucking asshole,” I tell him, trying my damnedest to keep from crying.
He stands up, tucking his phone away. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
Then he turns his back to me and walks away, and when my first tear rolls down my cheek, I let it.
A moment later, the only thing that makes me wipe it away is the sound of heels clicking against the floor.
“Men can be so cruel sometimes, can’t they?” a woman’s voice approaches. “But my step-son… Well, he’s on a completely different level. Hello, Victoria. It’s lovely to finally meet you.”
16
VICTORIA
Ekaterina Rykov is supposed to be a fifty-something-year-old woman. And like any woman her age, at least a few faint lines should carve her face, telling the story of a life well lived. But this isn’t the case.
Her features are tight, pulled back as if her skin hasn’t matured at all. Or, as if every time it tried to follow the natural progression of collagen loss, Ekaterina found a way to keep it glowing.
That, together with the jewels hanging from her ears and neck, plus the Louis Vuitton pleated dress, makes her look like exactly what she is—the wife of the most powerful criminal in the country.
I saw her briefly at the wedding ceremony, but I was too stressed to take her in fully. Now that she’s here, though, smiling at me with her white veneers, there’s no way I can ignore her.
“Don’t let it get to you. This is what he does when something entirely unrelated bothers him…” She sighs, taking a seat next to me. Fresh coffee is brought for her, and I swear the staff are even faster this time around.
“Who says I am letting it get to me?”
“Oh, darling, you’re not a very good liar. Your face tells me more than your words ever could.”
I nod bitterly, not knowing what else to tell her. I feel sick to my stomach, and I can’t imagine eating anything right now. But I don’t have anywhere else to go.
A warm hand touches mine, and I jolt a little at the strange sensation. No one has touched me with kindness since I got here. Not truthfully, anyway.
“You’re going to be alright.”
I glance at her with glassy eyes, wanting to believe her.
“I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’ve been where you are.”
“You were… forced into marriage?”
Her hand retracts and her lips press into a thin line. “Forced. Used. Manipulated. All the above. And let me tell you, darling, we deserved better.”
“And you’re still here? After all these years, you could’ve…”
“What? Left?” She gives a short, amused laugh. “There’s no leaving a Rykov man. He will hunt you down and drag you right back where you belong, even in death. But…” She smirks. “You can play him like an instrument if you learn his weak spots.”
“I doubt Wolfgang has any. If anything, he’s been the one playing me all along.” I shake my head. “Why are you telling me this, anyway?”
Ekaterina clicks her tongue, raising the cup of coffee to her lips. “Every single man has one. And it’s usually the very thing you’re upset about right now.” She sips, and I snort, amused.
“So you overhead the entire conversation, then.”
“I do apologize. I didn’t mean to.”
I shrug and remain silent, lost in thought as I peer through the large windows overlooking the front yard. Two armed men do their rounds, securing the perimeter. This entire property is so big I rarely see anyone around. But down here, in this wing, seems to be where everything happens.
“Tell you what,” Ekaterina says, getting my attention. “Why don’t you come shopping with me today? You look like you could use some time away from this house.”
“Shopping? Like… to the mall?” My brows rise.
