He grins. "Not while it entertains me."
By the timeI pull into the driveway, dusk has settled over the estate. Lights glow in the main house, and the faint sound of laughter drifts through open windows.
Elle's laughter, I expect. Pasha's too. But the third voice, light, feminine, familiar, makes my jaw tighten.
I walk in, already bracing, and sure enough.
Natalia.
Sitting on my couch. Watching my television. With my family.
Elle's curled at one end, Pasha tucked beside her, and the picture is domestic bliss if you ignore the part where a ghost from my past is sharing my sofa.
For a brief, insane moment, I consider walking straight to my room. But I'm not feeling charitable today. I let my shoesthud across the hallway, loud and ugly. Natalia's eyes meet mine, and I see it immediately.
Fear.
It sends a snake of satisfaction down my spine. Good. At least she remembers who she's dealing with. I stand in the doorway, saying nothing. Just burning holes through her with my stare.
She fumbles for the remote. "We were just watching a movie. Pasha wanted to show me..."
"I see that," I say evenly.
Elle gives me a warning look. The kind that saysdon't ruin this, Nikolai.
Pasha looks up. "Dad, it's funny. You'd like it."
Something animated. Bright colors, ridiculous voices. I nod at him. "I'm sure."
Natalia rises quickly, brushing imaginary crumbs from her dress. "I should head back."
Elle starts to protest, but one sharp glance from me shuts it down.
Natalia murmurs a quick goodnight to Pasha and scurries toward the guest house.
When she's gone, the silence stretches. Elle's glaring at me. Pasha's watching us like a tennis match. And I'm pretending not to feel like the villain in my own living room.
Pasha breaks first. "I'm gonna go finish my Lego tower."
"Good idea," I say, and wait until he's gone.
Elle crosses her arms. "You didn't have to glare at her."
"She was on my couch."
"She was watching Finding Nemo. Not plotting treason."
"You don't know what she's plotting."
Her sigh is pure exasperation. "She's trying, Nikolai. You can see it. Pasha's getting used to her. You could at least pretend to meet her halfway."
"I don't pretend about things like this."
She narrows her eyes. "You're impossible."
"I've been told."
Later that night,Elle climbs into bed beside me, hair damp from her shower, smelling sweet and infuriating. For five minutes, there's peace. Then she rolls onto her side.
