For turning up late yesterday, she’s not allowed to make herself come.
“What about you?” She deflects the question back at me. “What haveyoubeen doing today?”
“Oh, just the usual,” I say, cutting into the steak, chewing. “We had a body to get rid of from last night. And then I had some properties to sign off on.” I drink more wine. “I’m still waiting for Igor to kick up a fuss. He must be working on the offshore accounts, still trying to settle things.”
Joy glances up from her plate, two lines appearing between her fair brows. She’s deep in thought about something. “Do you ever question why he did it?”
I already warned her yesterday about her questioning my decisions.
I stop eating. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” says Joy. “For starters, Igor never really spoke about you.”
“He didn’t mention me at all?”
“Sometimes,” says Joy, staring at the space in front of her, remembering. “Looking back now, he probably didn’t want to say much and accidentally reveal he was part of organized crime.” She frowns, staring at her plate. “Although, I did ask him about his family when we first met. He didn’t say a lot. He said his mom left when he was young, and that his dad was never really there.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Igor’s always been ungrateful. I already had a life set up for him when he was born. Twenty-seven years later, I’m still waiting for him to say thanks.
“What happened to his mother?”
“She died.”
“Oh.” Joy settles back into her seat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”
The maid pins me a look from across the table. I pin her one back.
I pay them to cook, clean and concierge. Not to make judgements.
Joy starts up again. “How I see it—it sounds like you didn’t take much of an interest in your son. Maybe that’s why he?—”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” I turn to Joy, the flatware clanging on the plate as I set it down. “Igor tried to take advantage. I built a life for him and what did he do? Go behind my back, trying to destroy it all. He was close to ruining his own future.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Igor was meant to be my right-hand-man.” I pick up my flatware, cutting back into the steak. “On top of that, he’s heir to the Bratva. He’ll be ruling it one day when my time comes.” I wash the steak down with a sip of wine. “That being said, if he doesn’t learn his lesson and betrays the Bratva again, he’ll be banished. I’ll choose Niko instead.”
Joy shivers when I mention his name. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Nikolai looks more like a monster than a man.
The room falls silent as we all concentrate on eating. The maid and butler keep to their side of the table, forking vegetables into their mouth. Joy looks over. Offers them a small smile.
“Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re very welcome, dear.” The maid smiles.
Can’t say I’ve seen her smile in a while.
“You never really told me why you ended things with Igor.” I neck the rest of my wine, and pour myself a new glass. “I take it you found out my son was framing you.”
“He proposed two weeks ago,” says Joy. “And then he started asking questions about work. That was the first sign. But there were others. I went to surprise him at work. Turns out he’d been lying to me the entire time about working in real estate.”
“Technically—”
“Legitimate real estate,” interrupts Joy. She screws up her lips, pins me a look and gets back to eating steak.
This grabs the maid’s attention.
