I stalked through the hallway. Bratva were not allowed up here unless they were security. I arrived at Aralina’s door. It was lit underneath, and I heard a muffled voice that I was certain was Lucy's.
Well, I couldn’t eavesdrop, could I?
Sato
I saw her with Aralina.
Found them.
I rapped on the door. “Lucy, are you in there?”
I didn’t bother waiting for them to reply and opened the door just as my sister snapped a folder closed. My wife’s expression was schooled to perfectly bored, but Aralina was less adept at hiding the guilt on her face.
Before I could ask what they were up to, Lucy glided toward me with her blindingly fake smile and grabbed my arm. “Goodness, Kirill, you can’t stay away from me for a second.”
“I can’t help myself, Lusenka.”
My sister couldn’t see Lucy’s eye roll. I didn’t know what trouble those two were brewing. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Aralina feared her own shadow. And also, I was determined to stick close to my wife for the next few weeks until I was sure Kolya was acclimated to the new power structure. I didn’t want to have to kill my old friend because he terrorized my wife. We rarely targeted women, but men who underestimated women did so at their own peril. How many men lost their thrones because their dicks ruled the heads they were supposed to use?
“Gag,” she said derisively and tried to extricate herself from me but I held fast to the hand on my elbow.
“We don’t need to pretend.” She frowned.
“Who says I’m pretending?” I shot back. “Come on. You haven’t eaten anything.” I dragged her to the service stairs.
“Why are you concerned about whether I eat or not?”
“I’ve been hungry before,” I told her, my mind temporarily flashing back to a punishing blizzard and clawing hunger. “I do not wish it on anyone.” Except my enemies.
Her eyes studied me curiously, and I let her see that it was not a game. I wasn’t compromising on this.
“I ate this afternoon,” she said slowly. “It’s not like I’m starving.”
“Let’s call a truce,” I suggested. I didn’t want her poking into that memory I had no desire to remember. I was barely ten when Ivan’s idea of turning me tougher was letting me starve in the wilds of a forest near Siberia. A hunter’s cabin with no electricity. A ration of canned food. A hunting rifle. A gruff old man built like a bear checked on me every day to make sure I was alive. He taught me basic skills. The first thing I learned was how to build a fire in the stone hearth, keep it going and hunt game. Two weeks in, a boy my age joined me—Kolya. He was already skilled not only with a rifle but with a bow and arrow. I didn’t think I would have survived the three months if it hadn’t been for him.
“Okay,” Lucy responded.
Thank fuck she didn’t argue because I didn’t like digging into that past.
The house staff were shocked to see us descend the stairs. “Why don’t you sit over there while I fix you a plate.”
I pointed at the eat-in table by the window. When I was a boy and too dirty from playing outside, I’d sit there and the cook fed me.
Lucy opened her mouth. I raised a brow and said, “Truce, remember?”
She sighed. “I guess I’m hungry.”
“Good girl.” I left her and fixed her a plate from the untouched reserved food in the kitchen.
“Aren’t you eating?” she asked when I set the plate in front of her with a glass of wine.
“No.”
“What, you’re going to sit here and watch me eat?” Her mouth formed a cute pout.
“Not exactly.” I walked over to the bar and poured myself a scotch, leaned against the kitchen counter, and tipped my chin at her to start eating.
Lucy went after the cheesy chicken I’d offered her earlier. “Hmm…this is really good.”
