I nodded. “Forty-nine.”
“And you do not have a problem being in bed with someone who’s almost fifty?”
Pretty much everyone around the table made some kind of comment at that. Be it a groan, or a ‘dedushka, please stop’ to a snorted laugh—thank you, Ember.
“No,” I told him just as bluntly, not backing down from this pissing contest.
Which he apparently got because he surprised me with his next action. His hand struck out damn fast for an older man, but even though it was fast, it landed gently on my lower stomach. I froze—as did everyone else—as he spread his fingers wide, encompassing all of my lower stomach, and getting close to an area he should definitely not be touching. I jerked back farther against Daniil, but he kept his hand there, and he asked harshly, “Do you have his child in here like the papers say?”
“Papa,” Daniil stated sharply, swiping his dad’s hand away, now speaking in English, “Leave her alone.”
“Does she, Daniil?” Abruptly, his dad stood upright, glaring at his son. “Does she have your child in her womb?”
Daniil moved me behind him carefully, and I grabbed my glasses off the table to see better, peeking around him. This was apparently a touchy subject. One Daniil hadn’t even discussed with his dad. He cleared his throat and nodded once curtly. “Yes. We’re having triplets.”
His dad’s face froze. “Three?”
Daniil nodded once.
I watched as his dad’s features strained…right before he started shouting in Russian at the top of his lungs at his son. Wow. I skittered backward and traveled so I was farther away from that meltdown, maneuvering behind Grigori, who pushed me farther behind him when I peeked out too far to watch. Grigori was stiff as a board, same as Artur, Roman, and Eva, but all of them, with the exception of Roman, wore shocked expressions.
Daniil and his dad went toe-to-toe hollering back and forth between the other in a damn language I had yet to learn, so all I could do was stand there and watch. And get death glares by his dad when he deigned to turn his furious face away from his son. At one point, his dad picked the knife up off the table I had held, and put it to his throat still spouting away furiously before throwing it back on the table. Thank God, Ember had been smart enough to get the girls out of here when the hollering had first begun.
And now, she was back, oddly, standing next to me like she was going to protect me by the way she hovered and watched everyone. And then, his dad turned a furiously pointed finger at Grigori. Grigori sucked in a breath and listened to whatever his granddad was hollering at him, turning his pointed finger in Ember’s direction.
Grigori grabbed Ember’s hand but shook his head, stating in English, “No. She’s not pregnant.”
Daniil growled and stepped in the way of his dad’s bickering at his oldest, and interrupted with another ranting shout, slashing his hands through the air and hollering. Ember started to lean over and say something to Grigori, but he shook his head harshly before she could even voice whatever she was going to say. She kept quiet then and left her hand in his, still keeping a watchful eye on everyone new in the room.
About ten minutes after the shouting began, his dad pointed directly where I was peeking between Grigori and Ember, hollering in English, “You will go to Russia and marry my son!”
“Oh, fuck,” I muttered quietly. Who the hell would have thought that was what this was about?
“Get over here!” he hollered. “You held a damn knife to my throat and now you cower? Get. Over. Here!” He was damn near breathless he was so furious.
“Papa!” Daniil yelled, getting right in his face, hollering again in Russian.
And, well, that’s when I moved. His dad was going to harm himself if he kept yelling like that. I darted out from behind Grigori and Ember and rushed around the table, pushing between them. I wasn’t sure they noticed at first, but I raised my hands and grabbed both their chins, yanking them down to look at me.
“Both of you need to take a minute to breathe.” Both blinked at me, and I smiled up at them as calmly as I could. “We can talk about this rationally. And calmly.”
“No! We can’t!” Daniil barked, and I yelped as he whipped me around and hoisting me so high up in his arms, my waist was next to his face. He held me under the rear with one arm, and I gripped handfuls of his hair, trying to keep my breakfast down from being swung about. He pointed with his free hand at his dad as he backed away. “I won’t marry again because of pregnancy. I spent a quarter of a century living in Hell, doing as you bid. It won’t happen again. You won’t ruin this time for me. So stay the fuck out of it, Papa.”
“Daniil,” his dad shook a fist in the air his son couldn’t see because he was striding so quickly out of the room, me bouncing with each pounding step he took. “You will marry her! It is the right thing!”
Daniil spun, and I gripped his hair tighter, burping. He didn’t seem to notice as he shouted, “You never knew the right thing for me where matters of the heart were concerned. I’m not sixteen anymore as you so tastelessly put it. I do not follow your damn rules anymore. And if you don’t like it, then get the fuck out of my home!”
I could see my parent’s blank faces as they watched this interaction. I thanked God, here and now, that I had parents like them. His dad was a real bear. A fucking grizzly bear from the way he stomped toward us after Daniil swiftly marched through dining room door.
Roman and Grigori blocked his path.
Oh, and his dad really didn’t like that so much.
But he did take a deep breath and back away.
I hung on as he clomped up the stairs, jostling me the whole way, apparently not noticing my groans as he was so intent on getting me away from his dad. When we entered Daniil’s room, he was grumbling harshly in Russian, talking to himself.
Yeah, I didn’t interrupt.
