"How am I?" She sets down her glass. "How am I supposed to be, Katya, when my daughter runs from her home like a thief in the night, burning down her father's business arrangements on the way?"
"Orlov has been dealt with."
"I'm not talking about Orlov. I'm talking about Sergei Litkov. You destroyed your chances with him by sleeping with that boy, and then you ran here and married that grotesque…”
She waves her hand as if there's no adequate word to describe my husband.
My grip on the wine glass tightens. I set it down before it shatters.
"Gabriele is not grotesque."
"I've seen the photographs."
I grit my teeth. "He's a good man."
"But not one your father can do business with." She leans forward slightly. "Sergei, however….”
"The arrangement with Sergei was finished the moment I slept with Mikhail. He wanted a virgin. You know that."
"Yes, but…”
"And then Papa shot Mikhail and offered me to Boris," I continue. "I doubt Sergei is pleased to be associated with that debacle."
My mother examines her nails, like a cat about to pounce on its prey. "That's what I thought, but it turns out Sergei is very forgiving."
Forgiving? Why should I care if he is or not? A prickle of unease winds its way down my spine. "What are you talking about?"
She smooths her napkin across her lap with the deliberateness of someone who has rehearsed this. "He's no longer interested in you as a wife. But he still needs an heir. A son."
The temperature of my blood drops several degrees.
"What are you saying?"
"Sergei is willing to mend his relationship with your father. He's willing to overlook your transgressions if you provide him with what he needs."
"So I'm just a convenient womb?"
I think back to my first conversation with Gabriele.Are you offering me the use of your womb?Then it had been almost comical. Now the thought is rather more sinister. Where Gabriele at least had the courtesy to ask if my body was on offer as an incubator, Sergei just assumes it is.
The waiter reappears and my mother orders salads for us both. My mind works through what she just said and the lengths my father is prepared to go to get what he wants. A warmth spreads through me that has me reaching for the water.
"And my husband? You think he's going to allow this?"
"What choice will he have? By this evening you will be home in St. Petersburg where you belong."
I reach for the water again and my hand trembles. Something feels off. I’m more anxious in my mother’s presence than I thought I would be. That’s all it is.
"Mama." I intend to set her straight but my voice comes out wrong. Slightly soft at the edges. I furrow my brow as a strange heaviness settles in my limbs. ”What did you do?"
She meets my eyes with the composure of a woman who made a decision and has no intention of revisiting it. "What needs to be done. I'm putting things right."
I need to get to the door. Gabriele's men are outside. Santo is waiting in the car. If I can just get to him, I'll be fine.
I take two steps and the floor tilts. Someone catches me. I don't know who. I hear my mother's voice from somewhere behind me, calm and clear, as I realize someone is carrying me.
"My daughter felt faint," my mother tells the waiter who suddenly appears in my peripheral vision. "The heat."
I try to speak, to ask him for help, but the words won't form.
