Chapter 12 - Daria
I hated how easily he put me on edge just from existing...just from his domineering presence.
I didn't trust him, and I didn't trust the seemingly random dinner either. While it could've been innocent and well-intended, I couldn't shake how it seemed too...nice for him.
He made it all too clear before that he meant to make me hurt for everything, but between the nice clothes he bought me and now the strangely intimate dinner for just the two of us, I didn't know what to think.
It was working if his intentions were to be as confusing as possible.
Even after he told me to get started, I sat there in my chair and watched while he portioned some of the meal onto his plate.
I wanted to know what he was up to. What he was planning.
A small part of me wondered if he really did just want to be civil and coexist as any married couple would, but it still rubbed me the wrong way. It was too convenient after everything—after all of his threats.
As much as I wanted to continue resisting and causing a scene, I was getting tired of it all. Between feeling a semblance of warmth from him to getting nothing but cold, barely-contained anger right after the fact, staying alert for any change in his demeanor, and being aware of how much he despised me, my nerves were completely frayed.
It wasn't how I wanted to live, and I knew staying in that constant state of fight or flight wasn't good for me. Yet, it was far too reminiscent of how life had been with my brother.
Ivan glanced over at me with an expectant look. "Well? Eat."
Letting go of a discreet breath, steeling myself against it all, I did as Ivan said, and slowly added food to my own plate.
The meal was awkward at first with just the two of us sitting there, eating in silence. I could feel his eyes on me every once in a while, and it didn't do anything to soothe my fear and paranoia.
I tried to fight the instinct to believe he was planning something, not wanting to completely lose my cool. While I was tired of walking on eggshells, I also still had to protect myself in one way or another.
The quiet of the room was punctuated by the sound of our utensils against the expensive plates, and while the meal tasted great like it always seemed to, it was difficult for me to stomach it under his studying eye.
Even if it was something as simple as having dinner together, just sitting there was enough to make me wish I could just shrink into my seat until I was so small he couldn't perceive me anymore.
"You said before that you were a teacher," Ivan murmured, seemingly testing the waters. "...but you went to Mexico to write a book. Was any of that true?"
My brows furrowed slightly at the question, and I kept my voice quiet despite its accusatory air. "Is this an interrogation or something?"
Ivan physically bristled, allowing his stoic expression to shift to genuine irritation and interest. He scoffed, tone clipped. "Or something ...I'm seriously asking."
Even if his annoyance triggered my own, I reigned it back in. His sincerity caught me off-guard, and while I was still unsure about sharing too much with him, I found myself giving in.
"Fine...and no, it wasn't true. Just something Rurik told me to say," I admitted, feeling the scrutiny in his gaze.
"And writing?"
Feeling as my embarrassment deepened at him pointing the lies out, I shook my head, looking down at my plate. "I couldn't write a book to save my life."
A sound somewhere between a huff and a muted chuckle escaped him at that, and he nodded, pushing the meat around his plate for a moment. "I figured as much."
"All of it was made up for his sake," I continued quietly, strangely feeling more willing to talk about it then, almost like I was approaching a moment of catharsis.
Something shifted faintly in Ivan's gaze then, and his tone reached me with less harshness. "Then what wasn't made up?"
Pulling in a breath, I gathered my thoughts, aware of how loaded that question was. "Everything had been mostly normal before the explosion, but after the fact, Rurik used it to his advantage and hid me away, giving me different identities depending on what served his goals. I was stuck with him and didn't have much of a choice but to follow his orders."
"It must not have been too bad if you were complying," he stated almost cautiously, gauging my reaction.
I couldn't help the bitter scoff that slipped past my lips. "My compliance didn't make things any better. It didn't make it worse, necessarily, but nothing about my situation was ideal. I might be his sister, but he never let that mean much of anything to him."
For a moment, I wondered if I was imagining things. Ivan's expression softened slightly, almost like he felt bad for me, and part of me wished I could see what was unraveling in his mind.
"His own sister was treated no better than a pawn?"
While he was on the mark with that assessment, it sent a prickle of shame through me, and I nodded. "Pretty much, yeah."
"And was this always his MO?" He asked, maintaining that vague interest.
Without needing to think about it, I nodded. "Yes...I never really had anything of my own. From the moment he could, he controlled me. From who I pretended to be down to what I wore."
I didn't know why I felt the need to explain myself at that moment. Why the opportunity to clear the air and absolve my involvement was one I didn't want to pass on. Regardless of what he thought, I didn’t owe Ivan anything, yet a part of me didn’t want him to still think the worst of me.
Looking across the table at him reminded me of the version of him I met in Mexico, and in a way, it was disarming enough for me to drop some of my walls.
I let go of another breath. “Rurik was the only reason why I went by Zoey, and why I lied to you and your family…if I had the choice, I never would’ve done it.”
Holding his gaze then, facing the whole thing head-on, I felt vulnerable to a point that almost ached. But I couldn’t take it back. I could only silently hope for the best, regardless of it not changing anything.
To my surprise, Ivan seemed to truly take in my words, processing them as if they were actually getting through to him. Before, he had seemed so resistant and uninterested in any kind of explanation I tried to give him.
But in that moment, he seemed receptive.
For some reason, that felt like something of a victory.
As if remembering himself, Ivan schooled his emotions again and leaned back slightly in his seat. As suddenly as that more genuine expression appeared, it disappeared even faster. The return of that indifference felt more normal, yet made me miss his sincerity.
“And what did you do when he wasn’t dictating your every move?”
My brows furrowed slightly at the question, not expecting to hear it. “What do you mean?”
“Your downtime…how did you spend it?”
A bit thrown off by it, I took a moment to consider my words. “I didn’t have much choice in how I spent my time, but while I was waiting for new orders, I’d normally spend my time reading or watching movies I missed out on. If I could, I’d try to make connections elsewhere…meeting new people and talking to someone other than my brother, or whoever he wanted me to manipulate.”
Ivan nodded to himself, taking in what he could of the information I was willingly offering him. “I imagine being away from him was a relief whenever it happened.”
“That’s an understatement…”
Despite myself, I found the conversation flowing more naturally than I anticipated while we worked through our meal, heading towards the end. But with an absence of his arrogance and smugness, I felt more willing to share.
It seemed like we were genuinely connecting in some way.
After a pocket of brief silence, I glanced up at him. “How many siblings do you have?”
Regardless of how simple the question was, he seemed a bit more reserved about it, like he didn’t want to involve his family in the conversation too much. Then, as if meeting me halfway, he murmured, “I have five brothers and a sister.”
“That’s quite the full house,” I commented, wondering just how far he was willing to take our conversation. “And our situation…do any of them know about it?”
There was no missing how that question seemed to rub him the wrong way, and Ivan shook his head before quickly shielding his true thoughts and feelings from me. “No, they don’t. And I’d rather keep it that way for now.”
While I knew that was likely the right call, given how much messier the situation would likely be if they all knew that he had me around, I couldn’t ignore the faint pang of disappointment in my chest.
No part of me wanted to feel any kind of way other than relieved at that statement, but as much as I tried to deny it to myself, it didn’t become any less real.
“Do you plan to tell them?”
He sighed, sitting back in his chair while putting his utensils down. He looked away for a mere second before returning his gaze to me. “I’ll have to eventually, but for now, I’m keeping it to myself while I figure more of you out.”
My gaze narrowed slightly at the claim, not understanding what he was hinting at. “What else is there to figure out?”
Ivan simply looked at me for another moment as a hint of skepticism trickled into his demeanor. “You still aren’t out of the woods yet…I’m wondering if your plan has truly ended, or if I’m only delaying it.”
At first, I couldn’t help but wonder if I had misheard him, but given how he looked at me with accusation in his tone, I knew he meant it.
“My plan? It was never my plan, to begin with,” I returned, not liking where things were going, almost like we had entirely veered off the tracks after seemingly making progress.
He tilted his head slightly. “And how am I supposed to know that?”
My brows furrowed all the while disbelief flooded my system. “You really think I’m up to some master plan that you don’t know about?”
“I don’t know…are you?”
The tonal shift left me feeling like I had endured whiplash all over again, let to wonder where it was coming from, and how he could possibly assume I was up to no good.
I bristled. “How could I be doing that while I’m stuck in your house with no access to the outside world?”
Ivan shrugged. “That’s what I’m trying to work out…maybe you’re simply biding your time until the right opportunity arises. But either way, I won’t let that happen.”
In complete shock of his baseless suggestion, that anger sparked inside of me all over again, and I pushed up from my chair.
“I can’t believe you…getting me to open up just to throw it back in my face.”
With vague irritation, as if it was merely an inconvenience to his night, Ivan sighed. “Maybe if you didn’t give me a reason to, then I wouldn’t assume the worst of you.”
Tired of how he wouldn’t let it go, and how insensitive he was despite what I shared with him, I shook my head and grit my teeth while storming out of the room.
Right when I started to think we were making some sort of progress, he shot it down completely.
Moving through the house and up to the second floor, that rage boiled beneath my skin. Even if he was capable of being nice, it seemed he preferred not to be, regardless of how it made him look.
Leaving him and what remained of our dinner behind, I couldn’t help but feel like there was no chance in hell we’d ever get passed that hatred between us.