Mikhail walks to the center of the room and claps his hands together, drawing everyone’s eyes onto him. “This party is for my wife’s sisters. They’ll be leaving tomorrow, and I wanted to send them off in grand style. If you don’t know, my wife and her sisters are ballet dancers. Very well-known in New York.” He looks at the three of us. “So, I wanted to ask you three for a dance. A way to commiserate your leaving. I know it’s not easy on any of you. Why not share a dance together one last time?”

I inhale deeply. Vik was right. Mikhail is trying to punish my sisters for leaving and having me go with them.

All the eyes in the room are on us. I catch Irina’s gaze and watch her slowly smirk. Every fiber of my being hates to see her look at me like that.

I raise my head high. “We would love to.”

Vik whips her head toward me. “Sofiya, I’m still wearing a cast. I can’t dance ballet.”

“You’re going to have to try,” I whisper. “Mikhail wants us to dance, so we’ll dance.” I grab Mila’s hand and tug her toward Mikhail. Vik follows behind with her head raised. Even though Vik doesn’t want to dance right now, she would never show it.

Mikhail steps out of the way and motions for us to take to the floor. Music starts playing—something classical I’ve never heard before.

Each of us takes off our shoes.

“We’ll modify,” I tell Vik. She nods and inhales slowly.

I ignore the men and women around us and begin to dance. Mila follows in, and finally, Vik joins. It’s one of the easier dances Celine choreographed for us. It’s a story about three sisters finding a magical realm and venturing into it.

I can’t dance very well in my tight dress, so I modify my movements. Not kicking as high, not spinning as fast. And jumps are out of the equation. Mila does well in her dress since it’s more flowy. She masters a pirouette, and our audience claps.

That only makes Vik look more annoyed. Out of the three of us, she’s struggling with her moves the most. In her defense, her ankle is still healing. She can’t do any jumps or spins. She can barely balance on her good ankle since it’s hard for her to lift her other leg with the cast on it.

But Vik tries because she’s determined.

And, right in front of everybody, she slips on the hardwood and lands on her hands and knees.

Mila and I stop and rush to her side.

“I’m fine,” Vik mutters, pushing herself back up.

“Should we continue?” Mila asks.

I glance at Mikhail, and he nods. “We should.” We pick up where we left off, but the energy is off. We’re not on a stage, and we’re not in our costumes, and Vik is hurt.

She stumbles again, and this time, she lands on her butt. She tries to hide her wince, but even Vik isn’t that perfect. A couple of people laugh. When I look up, I see Irina has a large smile on her face. The people in this crowd are enjoying Vik’s humiliation. This is what Mikhal wanted to do—he wanted Vik to feel bad for convincing me to leave.

Well, this ends now. Mikhail can punish me all he wants, but I refuse to let him do the same to my sisters.

I offer Vik my hand, and this time, she takes it, letting me pull her up. I bow and subtly motion for my sisters to join me. They do.

When I look up at Mikhail, I see the disapproval on his face. He doesn’t like that I made the choice to end the dance without his say. But he doesn’t need to know that that wasn’t the end of the dance.

Vik smiles tightly as she bows to the audience.

“I hope you enjoyed it,” I say.

Mikhail steps forward. “We did. That was lovely. Now, we should give these women a break. Dancing isn’t easy.”

“No, it’s not,” a familiar man’s voice says. “But if anyone can make it look easy, it’s the Morozova sisters.”

I turn toward the voice, and the face I see sends an icy shard over my body.

It’s Boris. He’s here in Russia. He’s here in Mikhail’s house. In my house.

And he’s making a beeline for Mila.

“What’s he doing here?” I ask Mikhail. “Did you invite him?”

“No. But Boris has contacts. He must have found out where your sisters are, and he’s come to collect them. Your father did give him permission to control you three while you were unmarried.”

I shudder as I watch Boris walk up to Mila and run his fingers down her arm. She tries to smile politely, but it’s tense.

He will marry her once he takes her back to New York. And who knows what will become of Vik. She tends to make Bratva men angry. Boris could kill her if he wanted to.

I tried putting it off. I tried fighting for myself.

But seeing Boris in the flesh again, I’m reminded of how unstable he is. He shot at me as I ran from him when he tried to marry me. He pointed a gun in Vik’s face. He will hurt my sisters. Sweet, innocent Mila. And brave, stern Viktoriya.

And no one can help them because Boris technically has control over them.

But Mikhail is more powerful, and he could protect my sisters if he wanted to. He just doesn’t want to.

Not unless … not unless I give him my virginity.

I can’t run from it anymore. Mikhail will have all of me. I might as well turn it into a positive and use it to protect my sisters.

“Does your offer still stand?” I ask Mikhail.

He stares down at me for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Then, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

I just signed my soul away to the devil, and there’s no going back now.

Chapter

Twelve

MILA

“You look lovely,” Boris tells me, trailing his fingers down my arm. I smile, but it’s forced. By how his eyes tighten, I can tell he knows I’m faking it.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Am I not allowed to visit your sister’s husband? He worked with your father in the past. So, why not me now?”

I don’t know what to say. Boris gives me the chills, and all I want to do is run far away from him, but he’s unstable. Who knows what he’ll try to do?