“Isn’t it? I was the one carrying her, and she fell on top of me, causing me to break my ankle. I might not have a career because of her.”
“None of us have danced on a stage in weeks. I’ll be honest … I’m not sure I miss it.”
“You take that back,” Vik hisses, making me jerk back. “Dancing is your life, just as much as it is mine. And once Boris has moved on to someone else, we’ll go back to New York and resume our dance careers.”
“What about Sofiya?”
Vik shrugs as she opens the door. “She can stay here with her husband. You heard her. He’ll protect her. I just don’t think he’ll protect us. Don’t go off alone again where Boris can get to you. That’s all I can say. For your own good, Mila.”
I step back, my entire body feeling rejected. For a second, Vik’s eyes soften, but then, she turns and leaves. I don’t go with her to her appointment. Normally, I would be doing everything I could to help comfort Vik, but right now, all I feel is alone.
Alone and worried that Boris is coming for me and no one will be able to stop him. Not Mikhail. Not my sisters, who won’t stop fighting.
Not even myself. Because what can I do against a man like Boris?
Nothing is the sad answer.
VIKTORIYA
It feels amazing to have my cast removed and the x-rays show my ankle has healed up nicely. I’ll just need a few weeks of physical therapy, and then I can return to dancing.
My body itches to dance again, but my body is also stopping me from doing it. I’m not ready yet, but I will be soon. I have to be. Dance is my life. Sofiya might not care. She hasn’t shown any interest in ballet since marrying Mikhail. Whatever. It’s her life. If she doesn’t want my help, then so be it.
But it’s not too late for Mila. I can still encourage her to return to New York with me and take to the stage again.
Oh, the stage. That’s where I belong. Where I don’t belong is in Moscow, surrounded by men who want to hurt me and where my creativity is stifled.
When I get back to Mikhail’s house, Sofiya is on the couch with Mila, looking sad. I don’t want to say, “I told you so,” so I don’t. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like seeing either of my sisters sad.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Your foot,” Mila says, jumping up from the couch. “How does it feel?”
“It’s still tender, but I can walk on it. I just can’t dance yet.”
“You will. Soon.”
I appreciate Mila’s enthusiasm, but it’s also annoying sometimes. “What’s going on?”
“Mikhail is having another party. He’s inviting his men over,” Sofiya explains.
“But why?”
Sofiya sighs and looks away from me. “Mikhail likes to make his men feel welcomed in his home. It creates loyalty.”
“Why do you look upset?”
“Because I know what happened last time. I’m not looking forward to it. But … Andrei shouldn’t be here, at least.”
“Isn’t Andrei Mikhail’s second in command?” I ask, sitting down.
“Yes. Until Mikhail blinded him.”
I do a double take. Surely, I didn’t hear Sofiya right. “What? Did you say he … blinded him?”
“Yes. For looking at me. Mikhail got tired of it.”
“And you say we’re safe with him.”
“Vik, don’t start again,” Sofiya sighs. “Mikhail would never physically hurt you, ok? Now, I just want to get this party over with.”
“Me, too.”
Mila raises her hand. “Me three.”
The party is once again filled with men. Mila and Sofiya cling to each other as they make rounds around the room. My eyes land on Mikhail, chatting with his guests. How easy life must be for him. It makes me sick, and to think at one point, I wanted to marry him. If my time in Moscow has taught me anything, it’s that no man is worth it.
I remain standing in the corner, glaring at any man who dares approach me.
Until Aleksander enters the room. I remember him from the first party. He had the audacity to tell me to be careful how I act around men. Well, fuck him. I do what I want when I want.
He sets his sights on me and walks right over. “Nice seeing you again.”
“No, it’s not,” I reply.
“Didn’t I tell you before to watch your attitude around men?”
