“I don’t think Mikhail wants me to get married.” I’m not sure if that’s a lie or not. Mikhail hasn’t forced me to marry anyone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want me married someday. He could easily make me marry someone if it worked in his favor. That’s what Vik has been telling me. We can’t fully trust Mikhail, but he’s the only one who can protect us right now.
“I can talk to Mikhail,” Boris says in a hopeful tone, which is the last thing I want.
“I’m sorry, Boris. I just think that Mikhail wants me to be here for Sofiya. She’s been … going through a lot, and she needs me.”
“Why would a marriage stop you from being there for your sister?”
“Oh. I assumed because you’d take me back to New York.”
“I am going to take you back to New York.”
I sink lower in my seat, wishing I was wearing a large hoodie. If it were winter, I would be, but because it’s summertime, I’m wearing a summer dress, which doesn’t offer me any protection whatsoever.
“I can't marry you, Boris. Please respect that.”
“No,” he growls, slamming his hand on the table. Fedor walks over and motions for Boris to get up.
“You need to leave.”
Boris sneers. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“No. But I work for Mr. Ivanov, and he has made it my mission to make sure his wife and her sisters are taken care of. So, you need to leave.”
Boris looks at me, waiting for me to correct Fedor. When I don’t, his eyes narrow. “You’re mine, Mila.” Even though he threatens me, he still leaves the coffee shop.
“Are you all right?” Fedor asks.
Am I all right? Despite being under Mikhail’s care, I don’t feel safe at all.
I hurry back to the penthouse and find Vik and Sofiya at the kitchen table. “Boris cornered me in the coffee shop.”
Vik scoffs. “Ignore him. He’s not worth your time.”
“I think he’s going to find a way to marry me.” I slide into a seat across from my older sisters.
“You’re safe here,” Sofiya says softly. “Mikhail will keep Boris away.”
“Will he?” I ask.
Sofiya frowns. “Why would you ask me that? Has something happened?”
“No. I just get this sense Boris doesn’t care that we’re under Mikhail’s protection. I worry he’s going to drag me back to New York and force me to marry him. You have to make sure I’m protected.”
“I will,” Sofiya promises. “You know I will.”
“Do we?” Vik asks, taking a bite of her oatmeal.
Sofiya sighs and turns to Vik. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just that ever since we’ve been here, Mikhail has done nothing but humiliate us. First, the party where I got slapped in the face. Then his second in command kidnapped us and forced me to crawl on the floor. And then, at the other party, he made me dance on my broken ankle. He did it to embarrass us.”
“Embarrass us or you?” Sofiya asks. “Because Mikhail has been good to me.”
“Really? Because I’ve heard the screams coming from that room”—she points to the door we aren’t allowed through— “almost every night we’ve been here. He hurts you, Sofiya.”
“My husband doesn’t hurt me. He protects me. You don’t know what he and I do together.”
“I know enough from the screams I hear. Oh, and the bruises I’ve seen on your legs. You wear short dresses, Sofiya. I’ve seen them.”
Sofiya flushes for a reason I don’t understand. “Mikhail doesn’t hurt me,” she repeats. “I’m not going to tell you what we do together, but all you need to know is I’m safe. We’re all safe.” She turns to me with a kind smile. “Mikhail will make sure you’re safe from Boris, Mila. I promise.”
I want to believe her, but Vik’s words rattle around in my head. “Are you sure you’re safe? If what Vik is saying is true …”
“It’s not,” Sofiya snaps, and I flinch. Sofiya never snaps at me. “It’s not,” she says in a softer tone. “I promise you, Mila. What Mikhail and I do behind closed doors is for us only. I’m not in danger. I need both of you to trust me. Vik?”
Vik stares at Sofiya, keeping her back straight and head up. I could never win any staring contest with Vik when we were younger. She’s too disciplined. “What?”
“I need you to say you trust Mikhail to keep us safe. Mila needs to hear you say it.”
“How can I say it when I don’t believe it?”
I can tell that Vik’s words are a punch to Sofiya by how her shoulders slump inward.
“Now,” Vik stands up, “I need to head to my appointment. I’m getting my cast removed. Hopefully, I’ll be able to dance again. No thanks to you.”
Sofiya sighs and lowers her eyes to the table.
I follow Vik to the front door. “You know it’s not Sofiya’s fault you broke your ankle.”
