“I’m not asking for any other reason than the fact that I want to know,” he pointed out, and his voice went even lower as he added, “I care to know.”
I swallowed, mentally wiping the sight of the tenderness I felt in his tone and face from my mind.
“Have a nice day,” he uttered, dropping the empty mug on the table. “I know you will.”
And then he was walking out of the house.
I wanted to scream, but I also wanted to whisper to him, anything to make him come back.
What the hell has come over me?
Greta came out, served my food, and also served hers when I insisted. Hans joined the both of us in the sitting room hours later and was telling me about the library upstairs when a suited-up man entered the house. He bowed slightly in a wordless greeting to me and went straight to the two men behind the couch.
“Oh, they’re here then,” Hans remarked, standing from the couch.
“Who?”
He didn’t need to answer my question as the man went back to the door, and it opened again, revealing Liza’s bob.
I shot up to my feet, and Greta did the same.
“Hi, Alina!”
“Liza!”
Just as I got to her and brought my arms around her, I saw the two other women who stood just inside the door, smiling at us.
Isabella and Emilia.
“Oh my God,” I rushed. “Welcome. Good afternoon.”
“The surprise is the total package,” Liza uttered, chuckling as she stepped to the side and I went ahead to the approaching women.
“Hi, Alina,” Emilia greeted, extending her hands for a hug.
I went straight in, unable to resist the calm pull of her smile.
“Alina! We meet again,” Isabella greeted cheerily, and I moved on to hug her, too.
Emilia’s baby pink dress fell to her heels in neat pleats. It was the definition of elegance. The light color of her dress paired well with her calm aura. Her chestnut hair was pulled back in a ponytail that came down to her tiny waist, and her makeup was the lightest among the three of them. She looked so young and composed, like a powerful leader who didn’t need to remind anyone of their authority.
I had met Isabella more than once, and the orange jacket she had over her cream dress depicted the kind of bold fashion I had come to identify her with. Her hair framed her face and stopped around her stomach, partly covering her large hoop earrings. Her gorgeous face shone with happiness, making her endearing.
Liza looked regal as ever in her sleeveless leather dress and red shrug. I didn’t need to ask her if she was cold; I knew she wasn’t.
“So…reintroductions. Alina, you’ve met them before, but that was under different circumstances,” Liza started, facing the three of us with a grin. She stretched her hand towards Emilia as she said, “Emilia Lobanov. The first lady of the Bratva. She’s Viktor’s wife.”
“The senior wife,” Isabella chimed, making Emilia shake her head in a friendly rebuke.
“And this is Isabella,” Liza disclosed, gesturing towards Isabella. “Mikhail’s wife.” She squinted her eyes in mock confusion as she asked, “Is second lady a thing?”
“Can you just stop talking already?” Isabella asked, chuckling.
“Welcome to the wives’ club, Alina,” Emilia joked. “We’re glad to have you as our sister.”
“Thank you,” was all I could say.
Greta greeted them and went into the kitchen as the four of us settled down. Liza and I took the first two-seater facing the television while Emilia and Isabella sat on the couch facing away from the dining room.
