There’s a knock on my bedroom door, and my heart skips a beat. Maybe it’s Dominic. I scowl at my twinge of hope. I just want it to be him because it’s fun to get under his skin, not because I’d be excited to see him.
“Yes?” I say, ready to set Vova loose on Dominic.
But it’s Harold who pops his head in.
My shoulders sag.
“Dinner is ready and waiting on you. Mr. Montclair expects you to be in the dining room at seven p.m. each evening.” Harold’s disapproving stare makes me feel like I’m being scolded by Yelena again.
“I didn’t know. I don’t even know how to get to the dining room!” I know I’m whining, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be in trouble with Harold. And it’s truly not my fault that no one’s spoken to me today.
Harold justtsksand shakes his head.
He motions for me to follow him, so I pet Vova one more time, then leave the room.
After almost ten minutes of walking, we arrive at a set of ornate doors. He opens them, and steps aside. I walk into a room with a long table, a deep red Persian rug under it, and dark wooden seats. It’s warm, but also dangerous.
The whole house has a better ambiance than Viktor’s. It isn’t tacky, even though everything is expensive.
“Sit,” a voice says from the head of the table.
I turn to see husband dearest seated there. A place is set before him and one to his right. I’m tempted to sit at the other end of the table, but it’d feel too much like hiding from him. And one thing I’ll never do is let him think I’d cower before him.
“Woof woof.” I roll my eyes as I slowly make my way to my seat. If he wants to order me around like a dog, then he’s going to get called out for it.
“I might like you better if you were an obedient dog.” The smirk on his face negates the sting of his words.
“Liar.” I wink as I sit down. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving!”
“Open it and see for yourself. But it’s probably cold since you weren’t here for seven.” Dominic tilts his head to the silver top covering my plate. I open it to reveal a ribeye with potatoes and brussels sprouts.
I couldn’t have planned a better meal. It smells even better than it looks.
When Dominic reveals his plate, my smile drops.
“Ugh! You’re just like Viktor.” I slap my hand on the table, and the sound echoes around the room.
“Excuse me? What is your problem? I have the chefs make us a delicious meal, and you haven’t even taken a bite before complaining.” Dominic’s already pulling his hair, but I don’t give a damn about his feelings.
I glare down at his large serving, then my smaller one, then back at his.
“You won’t let me eat a normal human serving because I’m supposed to be your trophy wife that you want to keep small and dainty! I won’t have this happen again! Switch with me.” I don’t wait for his reply. I’m already grabbing his plate.
“Did Viktor purposely starve you to keep you skinny?” Dominic’s cool tone sends shivers down my spine. It’s thrilling when I get him so heated the mask drops, but this frigid tone feels like the arctic. It doesn’t scare me, but it has me alert.
“It doesn’t matter now.” I change the topic quickly. “Here’s yours.”
I hand him my former plate with the much smaller steak. He glances down, then looks at the steak in front of me. His eyes narrow, and it seems he’s taking it in for the first time.
Instead of bitching and demanding his steak back, he just picks up his knife and starts cutting into it.
I eye him with curiosity. Why is he okay with this? He should be angry.
He glances at me, then frowns.
“The food is already cooling down. Eat up before it gets to room temperature.” His order would normally piss me off, but I’m hungry, and I can’t shake that odd feeling.
It feels like every interaction we have just proves how different he is from Viktor. Even though they both lead criminal organizations, they’re complete opposites.
