“Oh, no,” Vik says, wagging her finger at me. “No more crying over our parents.”

“Yeah,” Mila agrees. “Let’s share some fun memories of them. Think of the good times.”

“You were the only one who had any good times with Father,” Vik says.

Mila frowns and nibbles on a chip. “Not true.”

Vik and I share a glance. “It was true,” we say in unison.

“You were always Father’s favorite,” Vik says, grabbing a chip and tossing it at Mila’s face.

She flinches and flicks a chip at Vik in return. “Fine. Then how about our mother? We all got along with her.”

“Remember the time our parents took us ice skating?” I say. “Father kept falling over and getting embarrassed. I don’t think he was prepared to be bad at something.”

Vik smiles slightly. “Mom kept teasing him about it.”

“Oh!” Mila sits up. “Remember when Father took us camping?”

“Oh god,” Vik groans. “I do.”

“We ended up glamping instead.” I smile at the memory. “But instead of being disappointed he only had daughters, he gave in and let us glamp.”

“Mom brought an espresso maker with us,” Vik says. “Father just couldn’t understand that we didn’t want to camp in the woods.”

“I remember when some bird pooped on his head.” Mila laughs. “I thought it was the funniest thing ever.”

“That’s because you were seven,” Vik reminds her.

“It was still funny.”

“It was pretty funny,” I say, laughing to myself at the memory. Mila begins to laugh harder, and soon, we’re full-on belly laughing. Vik smiles, watching us.

As I laugh with my sisters, eating a bag of chips, all I can think is that I haven’t laughed this hard since my parents died.

Chapter

Fourteen

MIKHAIL

Boris storms into my office without knocking. I barely glance at him as I continue my work. I’m checking through my finances to make sure my men are collecting payments owed to me, which is much more important than whatever Boris needs to talk with me about.

“How long are you going to keep Viktoriya and Mila here?” he asks, leaning over my desk as if he’s an intimidating presence. I am an intimidating presence. Boris is just a tiny fly to my Venus fly trap.

“As long as they want to stay. Sofiya and I made a deal. She upheld her end of it, so her sisters get to stay. Do you have a problem with that? Because, if not, I’d really like to get back to work.”

“Of course, I have a problem with that!” He shoves the chair across the desk so hard it goes flying across the room.

I only sigh. “Throwing a temper tantrum won’t help you, Boris. You failed with Sofiya. And now, you’re not getting your hands on Viktoriya or Mila. Get over it. You lost.” I set my eyes back onto my computer.

Boris growls deep in his throat. Does he seriously think he’s a threat? He’s just a little annoying fucker. Nothing more. “I will have Mila for my bride.”

“The only way you’re doing that is if they go back to New York, and they’re not going back to New York.”

“If you don’t hand over Mila, I’ll go after Sofiya.”

I slowly bring my gaze back to Boris and stand up. He visibly gulps. “You will not threaten my wife, Boris. You won’t like the outcome. And you know I’ll deliver on it.”

He quickly backs away. “Sorry. I won’t go after Sofiya.”

“Good.” I sit back down and wave toward the door. “Now, leave. I’m tired of talking to you.”

Boris storms out of the room with the same force he used when he came in. He’s no threat to me.

But his words linger in my mind. Would he really go after Sofiya? I’ll protect her at all costs. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt in the process. Seeing how shaken she was when I killed Irina startled me. Death is nothing to me now, but for Sofiya, it’s all new.

She came back into my arms, but there was a hesitation there, and I need that hesitation gone. There can be no barriers between us. Except, I haven’t been fully honest with her about everything. She still doesn’t know about my son.

My Alexei.

I don’t know how to talk about him, but if I don’t open up to her about him, there will always be a distance between us.

And I’d rather die than ruin my marriage with Sofiya.

SOFIYA

I’m enjoying my breakfast with my sisters when Boris walks into the kitchen. I didn’t even know he was here. My eyes land on Mary, who always answers the door, and she’s smiling to herself. She knew inviting Boris would upset me.

“What are you doing here?” Vik asks, gripping her mug so tightly her fingers turn white.

“I need to talk to Sofiya.” He stares at me pointedly. “Sofiya.”

“You don’t have to talk with him,” Vik says as I get up from the table.

“No. I will.” I glance in Mila’s direction, and she’s white as a sheet. I nod at her, and Vik slowly nods back, understanding what I’m doing. I won’t let Boris be in the same room as Mila.

I motion for Boris to follow me, and we walk out of the kitchen and into the foyer. It’s intentional. I want him out of here as soon as possible.

“What?” I ask, crossing my arms.

“You don’t need to take that attitude with me.”

I scoff. “I can’t believe you. You tried to force me into a marriage. You shot at me. And then you tried to force my baby sister into marrying you. Why wouldn’t I have an attitude?”

“Because I’m not sure your husband would approve. He likes you docile, doesn’t he? Submissive?”

I try not to flinch. “How do you know what Mikhail likes? You don’t know him.”