I scowl back. “He’s my husband.”
“I know that.” She shakes her head and mutters under her breath like I’m the problem. I sigh. Having Vik here will not be fun.
But if it means keeping her and Mila safe, then I will do what I have to.
“These are your rooms,” I say, showing Vik and Mila to their bedrooms after we arrive home.
“It’s beautiful,” Mila says.
“It’s all right,” Vik says.
Mikhail clears his throat, drawing the attention toward him. “I wanted to let you know that tomorrow night, I invited some people over. A welcome party. One to celebrate Sofya’s and my wedding as well as your arrival. It’s black tie. Dress appropriately.”
“We always do,” Vik says haughtily.
“Sofiya,” he says to me. “I’ll give you some alone time with your sisters. I’ll see you later tonight.” He grazes his fingers down my cheek before walking away.
“That’s so romantic,” Mila says in a dreamy tone. “He likes you, Sofiya.”
“They’re married,” Vik snaps. “Of course, he likes her.”
I sigh. “Vik, can you drop the attitude?”
“What attitude? My leg is still broken, Sofiya.” She nods at her cast. “Or have you forgotten? I wasn’t exactly happy about traveling overseas with a broken leg.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That couldn’t have been easy. But let’s just focus on the positives. You’re both here now. You’re safe from Boris. No more fighting.”
Mila nods right away while Vik looks around at everything but me. Finally, she sighs herself. “Fine. I’ll try to be nicer. I just have no idea what dress will go with my cast. This is impossible.” She continues to mutter to herself as she walks into her room.
Mikhail doesn’t wake me up that night to spend time together. And the next morning, I’m disappointed when I wake up and see he’s not in bed with me. He’s already downstairs, working in his office.
What Mikhail and I shared has been a constant thought at the back of my mind. My body craves to be touched again. But since we’re having the party tonight, I doubt that’ll be happening anytime soon.
I introduce Mila and Vik to Mary. Mary takes an immediate liking to Mila, which isn’t surprising. Most people like Mila. Whereas Vik eyes Mary over, and Mary does the same to her. Eventually, they settle on a silent respect for each other.
Wish that would happen for me. Mary still hates me, and I’m unsure if that will ever change.
I change into my dress for the party. It’s pink and flowy, and there’s a fairytale quality to it. Mikhail likes me in clothes like this and I want to make him happy.
Mila is in a gown similar to mine, but just in blue. It makes her kind of look like Cinderella. But Vik … she knows how to rock a dress. An old Hollywood-style red dress that she somehow manages to make work with her cast. Her light blonde hair is styled in voluptuous curls.
I blink as I look at her.
“You look great, Vik,” Mila says.
Vik smiles demurely, but I know it’s fake. “I just want to make a good impression on Mikhail’s guests.” I know what she’s really saying. She wants to make a good impression in case there’s a potential husband in the mix for her.
“Come on. I think the guests are arriving.” I can hear faint chattering coming from downstairs.
The three of us stand at the top of the stairs, looking down at the already crowded living room. Mikhail is in the center of it all.
“Oh,” Vik says in surprise.
I know why she’s saying it.
There’s not one other woman in the room except for us three.
The only people Mikhail invited to this party are men.
Chapter
Eight
SOFIYA
Istare into the sea of male faces. They range from older men with white hair and wrinkles to younger men with slicked-back hair and easy smiles. It brings me right back to my parents' funeral. Mostly, the people there were men. There were a few other women attending the funeral, but none of them made any effort to comfort us. We were on our own.
And we’re on our own again.
All of the men look up at us with expectant, eager expressions. I hate it. Why can’t we just be left alone? Why do we always have to be at the mercy of men?
Mila grabs my hand. “I’m scared,” she whispers.
“Mikhail is hosting this party. He wouldn’t let us get hurt.” At least he wouldn’t let me get hurt—I don’t think so anyway. I’m not so sure about my sisters. He was in no hurry to bring them to Moscow. I just have to hope that, because he cares about me, he’ll make sure they’re taken care of, too.
