“This conversation isn’t over,” Boris says before walking away. I see a man shake his head in disapproval at Vik’s actions. I want to shout at him to applaud my sister for sticking to her guns, but nothing comes out.
Because nothing ever comes out. Because I’m too shy, and it hurts me.
“Can you believe that man?” Vik says in a low voice. “Thinking I would marry him? Ridiculous.”
“Vik, what if he forces us to marry men we don’t want?” I ask.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because he has a handwritten letter from Father giving him express permission to do just that. I’m scared.”
“I’m scared, too,” Mila adds.
Vik looks at us, then rolls her eyes. “Don’t be scared. Being scared is pointless. We’re the daughters of Denis Morozova. We shouldn’t be scared of anyone.”
Right at that moment, my eyes land on a man standing in the living room archway. He’s not talking to anyone. He’s not eating or drinking anything. He’s only looking at the three of us.
Or, more specifically, me.
He’s handsome in an older man sort of way. He has to be in his forties at the youngest. Rich black hair with the tiniest bit of gray streaked through. Broad shoulders. A crisp, navy suit.
And eyes that are boring right into mine. Deep, dark eyes that reach my soul.
I’ve never felt this electric before. It terrifies me but also makes me want to walk over to him and introduce myself.
I feel rooted to my spot. Stuck. Moored to the floor.
Why is he staring at me like this? And why do I feel … this mixture of emotions in my body? A combination of fear and desire.
And as suddenly as I feel it, it’s gone because the man turns away from me and leaves the living room.
“I have to use the bathroom,” I tell Vik before following after the man.
“We’re supposed to stay together,” Vik calls out, but I ignore her.
When I round the corner, I see … nothing. The man, whoever he was, is gone. And I’m left shaken.
“Good riddance,” Vik says, shutting the door on the last guests to leave—a drunk middle-aged couple who kept making out instead of offering their condolences. “Thank god that’s over.” She slips out of her shoes, which gives Mila and me permission to do the same.
We go upstairs to Vik’s room and settle on her bed. She has the largest bed out of all of us. Mine is a queen, Mila’s is a full, while Vik’s is a king. Of course, it’s a king.
“I hated seeing those men all over our furniture,” she says, sitting ramrod straight. Vik has perfect posture. Always has, even when she was a kid. “I think I’ll burn it all. How does that sound?”
“Don’t do that,” Mila says. “Daddy bought that furniture.”
“Well, Daddy is gone. It’s just the three of us now, Mila. You can’t get attached. You’re eighteen, an adult. Start acting like it.”
Mila instantly breaks down into tears.
“You don’t have to mean,” I tell Vik as I wrap my arms around Mila.
Vik shrugs. “I’m not being mean. I’m being reasonable. And you know I’m right.”
I don’t answer because I’m unsure if I agree with Vik, and that bothers me.
“What are we going to do about Boris?” I ask, rubbing Mila’s back.
“Boris isn’t going to be a problem,” Vik says. “A man like that is nothing compared to a woman like me.”
“He wants to marry you, though, and he’s a man and the next possible ruler of the Bratva. If he wants to marry you, I don’t think you’re going to have a choice.”
“Then I’ll kill him. Father got his hands bloody. Why can’t I?”
“Because you’re a woman,” I remind her. “A woman in a man’s world.”
She scowls. “Don’t remind me. Now, I’m tired. We have our show tomorrow. We need to be ready for it. I don’t want you two slowing me down.”
That’s right—our ballet show. We’re the famous three ballet sisters. We’ve sold out a lot of performances. With our father’s connections, he made sure we became well-known in the ballet world.
I don’t want to go to our show tomorrow. I just want to stay in bed forever, but I know Vik will drag me out if I don’t go (and I mean that literally), so I nod. “I know my steps. Don’t worry. Come on, Mila. Let’s go to bed.”
After leaving Vik, we walk to Mila’s bedroom door, where she stops on the threshold. “I don’t think I can be alone tonight. Let me stay with you?”
“Of course.” But it’s not because I’m being a good older sister. It’s because I don’t want to be alone either.
