Page 54 of Cruel Submission

“Are you falling for her?” The question comes out cold. Calculated. A weapon designed to deflect from my own failures.

His entire body goes rigid. For one second, I think he’s going to lie—to laugh it off or redirect the conversation back to my sins. But Yanis has never been good at lying. Not to me.

“Kakogo khrena!” I snap. “What the fuck, Yanis?”

“And? What if I am?” He sounds defensive. Vulnerable. “Is it any of your business?”

“She’s been through hell. She doesn’t need—”

“What? Love?” His voice turns sharp again. Dangerous. “Care? Someone who sees her as more than another person to control? You don’t get to decide what Debra needs or doesn’t need, Arkady. She’s not yours to manage.”

“She’s under my protection—”

“She’s a person. Not a possession.” Yanis shakes his head, disgust written across every line of his face. “You can’t see it, can you? You’re so busy trying to manage everything that you’re losing the people who matter most.”

Before I can respond, my phone interrupts.

I glance at the screen. Fanny.

Fuck. What now?

“I need to take this,” I say.

“Of course you do.” Yanis gives me a look—disgust and disappointment and something that might be pity all mixed together—and turns away. His footsteps recede down the hallway, each one sounding louder than it should. When he rounds the corner and disappears, it feels final.

I answer the call. “What is it?”

“Mr. Laurov.” Fanny’s voice is hoarse and congested. “I’m so sorry, but I’m sick. I’ve been up all night with a fever and—”

“How sick?” I interrupt. I don’t have time for lengthy explanations.

“I can barely stand. I think it’s the flu.” She coughs, the sound wet and painful even through the phone. “I can try to work if you absolutely need me, but I don’t want to risk getting Aleks sick. Infants are so vulnerable to respiratory infections, and if he caught this—”

“No.” I cut her off. “Get a few days off. Get better.”

Perfect. Because this day wasn’t catastrophic enough—now the nanny calls in sick. The one person who’s supposed to keep Aleks safe while I deal with my father’s deadline and Mirabel’s questions and Yanis’s accusations that I’m becoming the monster I’ve spent my entire adult life trying to destroy.

“Thank you, Mr. Laurov. I should be okay in a few days. Maybe three or four if—”

“Just get better.” I end the call before she can finish.

The hallway settles into quiet. Not peaceful—just empty. I stand there with the phone in my hand, staring at the space where Yanis stood moments ago.

No nanny. Aleks needs constant care—feeding every three hours, diaper changes, supervision to make sure he doesn’t stop breathing in his sleep. He’s helpless. Completely dependent on adults who actually know what they’re doing.

Which means I need to find someone. Fast. Someone I trust not to kill an infant through incompetence. Someone who can keep him alive and quiet for the next couple of days while Fanny recovers and my father mobilizes his army.

The list of people who meet those criteria is very, very short.

And none of them are going to like what I’m about to ask.

Chapter Eighteen

Mirabel

The breakfast dishes are still soaking when I finally decide to call Diane.

I’ve been pacing the kitchen for twenty minutes, phone clutched in my hand, trying to figure out what I’ll say.