10. Mila
MILA
Itook my plates to the kitchen at Lev’s house, like I had started to after every breakfast I ate here.
He’d told me that first full day that the house staff would clean up, but it wasn’t like I couldn’t carry plates to the kitchen for the older woman.
Lev often took a call and stepped out of the room.
Instead of awkwardly sitting there and waiting for his instructions, and deluding myself into the idea that I was a guest to be waited on here, I took my dishes to the kitchen.
Selma was an older woman who looked like she’d been working for the Volkovs for a century.
I was curious what the story was behind her only having one eye, the other socket sewn up with old scar tissue.
But I didn’t ask. Even with that incomplete pair, she didn’t miss anything.
Unlike me, she wasn’t afraid to mumble her opinions.
Lev was pacing in the other room now, taking a call. It didn’t surprise me that he took calls where I couldn’t hear. Even though he seemed to want to keep me with him at all times, I knew I wasn’t actually “included” or important enough to matter past whatever job I could do for him.
Selma had her own thoughts about that.
“Wouldn’t it be simpler if you just lived here in the house with him?” She harrumphed.
I furrowed my brow. “Simpler how?” And simpler for whom?
She shrugged, giving me a stern once-over at the sink as she took my plates.
“One house to clean.” She dismissed me with an immediate wave before I could speak.
“Not that you make a mess. I mean you’re always with him anyway, as it is.
” She nodded her head in the direction of where he paced in the other room, like the emphasis was even necessary.
“Why not just simplify it and be here where he wants you?”
I shook my head, confused how she could come to that conclusion, that it would be “simple” for me to live here.
“Selma, I’m not some mistress or kept woman.”
She snorted. “It’d be easier to believe that if he didn’t watch you the way he does.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s trying to figure out what to do with me.”
“Oh, he’s got plenty of ideas of what he wanna do,” a maid said as she breezed through the kitchen, laughing lightly.
That was what I thought, that first day when he tricked me into thinking he was interested in me. In my body. In the concept of our bodies naked and touching and—
I shook my head. “He’s my owner. Nothing more.”
Now it was her turn to roll her one eye and smirk.
“Mila, I’ve seen the slaves. The recruits and the captives and all them.
” She flicked her hand at me again. “And none of them sit at that counter right there and eat meals with him. None of them are glued to his side and meeting all the other Volkovs.” She raised her brows, silently daring me to question what she said with so much authority.
Lev returned then. “Ready to go? I need to meet with Adrik.”
Annoyed that my chance to talk to Selma—or to let her talk to me—was over, I nodded once. But as I turned, Selma and the maid had such shit-eating, I-told-you-so smiles that I couldn’t help but scowl behind Lev’s back as I followed him out of the house.
They were wrong.
I was a slave.
And deceiving myself to think that I could be “okay” here with an ambiguous and unidentified role was stupid.
On the drive, he asked me—again—about my past. I revealed nothing, hedging answers, because it made no sense to me why he’d care.
Why he’d be invested in learning about me.
I understood that he valued me as someone to work for his family.
I was uniquely skilled at things a Mafia boss would expect from an employee.
With him holding that contract over my life, I was his possession.
Nothing more.
Nothing less.
We arrived, and I was bothered by how familiar I was with the Volkov mansion already. How things seemed “normal” and expected.
Dammit. I’m letting what Selma said get to me.
I wasn’t included. I wasn’t one of them. Not like Elena and Carina were.
They sat out on the patio in the back, seeming to talk about smuggling routes or the payments for security with them. Adrik kissed Elena’s cheek as she continued speaking, turning her laptop toward Carina.
“I’ll be back,” he told her as he approached Lev. Nikolai was also there, waiting to speak with his brother and cousin.
Lev turned to me. “We’re going to go check something out.” The tilt of his head indicated something further back on the property, past the ornamental gardens behind the massive house. “I’ll be back.”
I blinked and frowned. He didn’t need to tell me. He didn’t report to me.
Am I supposed to be with Elena and Carina?
I couldn’t waltz in and join their conversation.
Am I supposed to stand here and wait for you?
I wasn’t invited here as a guest.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
He didn’t give me an answer, though, and as he walked away with his cousins, I fought the urge to gape at him.
Why did you even bring me here?
What do you want me for?
Why did you buy me?
Will I ever have a job or assignment or… anything?
Being told what to do had become a structural part of my existence, and without him telling me what he expected of me, I felt further untethered and vulnerable. Further from being able to predict what could come so I could escape.
I slowly turned, keeping my hands in my pockets as I scanned my surroundings.
I didn’t belong here, standing off to the side. I didn’t fit in with those two women chatting away about business at the long patio table. And I didn’t feel comfortable, like a proverbial fish out of water with no idea of what to do.
As I stayed put, looking out at the gardens and pools and all the exterior entertainment areas, I resisted the awkwardness of being near Elena and Carina but not with them. A deep sense of uneasiness pricked at me, traveling up my spine until I grew tenser and tenser. On edge. Alert.
Wait.
It wasn’t just the weird awkwardness that had me tensing up.
This was something else.
Without changing my expression and still roving my gaze over my surroundings under the awning over the patio that sheltered the two pregnant women speaking, I focused.
This wasn’t me feeling out of place.
This was me feeling like I was being watched.
Is this another test?
Is Lev testing me again and checking how quick I am to notice something is off?
No. He wouldn’t do that near Elena or Carina.
This isn’t right.
Something isn’t right.
My gut instinct never failed me, and before I could think of what to do, I fell into a harsh and stubborn mantra of talking myself out of freaking out.
Don’t panic.
Do. Not. Panic.
You’re here and safe. There are guards. This isn’t a test. No threats can—
There.
I slid my gaze to the left, detecting the faintiest motion off by that wall.
Someone was trespassing and creeping in close.
The guards had to be out there somewhere, but they weren’t here, right now.
I swallowed hard and took my hands out of my pockets. Without allowing any emotion on my face, without any rash movements or physical tells of fear, I approached the table.
Setting my hand on Elena’s shoulder silenced her mid-sentence with whatever she was telling Carina. My palm was sweaty. My heart was racing. But I kept my voice low and neutral, my face blank and unchanged.
“Get under the table. Now. Both of you.”
I stated it with as much urgency as I could.
“What?” Carina mouthed it, watching me, but I couldn’t keep my gaze off the area where I saw someone sneaking in.
“Trespasser. Call for help.” I stated it without changing my expression, but as they both dove under the table, I moved to block them. If anyone was charging in from the diagonal angle from those bushes, they’d have to confront me before reaching the pregnant duo.
Elena spoke on the phone. Carina too. They were calling for help and they were secure. But as someone darted forward, I grabbed the pitcher of water off the table and threw it at him.
I had no weapons. I had nothing but my instincts.
I tensed, bracing to break into a run after this trespasser, but it wasn’t necessary.
I’d done enough.
He staggered at the hit of glass on his head, and in that time, the alerts that Elena and Carina had called out for came. The cavalry rushed in. Guards swarmed the man who’d nearly dropped to his knees from how I’d thrown the pitcher.
I stayed put, blocking Elena and Carina even as guards ushered them out from under the table. They were flanked. Covered. Led inside while the situation was assessed.
Waiting for Lev to return to claim me, I realized with a sharp pang in my chest that this difference would always be there. The difference between me and Elena and Carina. They were Mafia wives. Women with power. Treasures to protect and love and shelter.
While I would be the slave. The thing to put to work and order around, even though no one had ordered me to look out for the women or to react. That was all me, all my intuition.
The men rushed to the house, no doubt informed of the trespasser being caught. Lev caught my gaze, but it was Adrik who approached me first.
“Thank you.” He strode toward me. “Thank you, Mila.”
I swallowed, still unused to gratitude. Or thanks. Or praise or anything the members of this family told me.
“Was this a test?” I asked Lev.
He shook his head but Adrik continued. “No. I would never let anyone arrange a threat near my wife.”
The harsh tone he used was proof enough that he meant every word.
“I wasn’t testing you,” Lev said.
“You didn’t set that up to see how I’d react?” I asked, watching behind them as the security crew dragged the unconscious man away.
“No,” Adrik answered. “And I saw it all. It’s on the surveillance feed.” He took my hand and pressed it between both of his, and this close, I saw the utter relief in his eyes. “Thank you for your quick reaction and sharp instincts, for telling them to get down.” He nodded once. “Thank—”
I pulled my hand away. I was shocked. Relieved. Stunned and surprised and so many other emotions that I could barely sort them out. But hearing this Mafia boss, this Pakhan, act like I was worthy of praise…
This is too much.
This is… not normal.
I was supposed to be nothing but a slave and a thing to be ordered and used.
His gratitude and recognition of my wanting to instinctively protect members of this family was proof that I was being pulled in.
I was being tugged deeper into the inner mechanics of this family, and it had me questioning everything.
I wasn’t sure if escaping was even possible anymore.
If anything out there in the “free” world where I wasn’t a slave could make me feel as safe and valued as I did here.
As I felt the intensity of Lev’s gaze on me, I wasn’t sure when I stopped being seen as a thing he’d bought but a person he’d found.