Chapter 15 Mila
Mila
I’ve been awake for three hours, and my stomach still won’t settle.
The nausea started yesterday as just a wave of queasiness that passed quickly enough for me to ignore it. It’s worse this morning, like my body is rejecting breakfast before I’ve even eaten.
I push myself out of bed and head to the bathroom to look at my reflection in the mirror. I look pale. Tired. Like I haven’t slept through the night in days.
Which I haven’t.
My phone sits on the nightstand where I left it last night. There are no new messages from Alexei since he told me he needed to stay away, just a silence that should feel like relief but doesn’t.
The house is too quiet. Even the guards outside my door move like ghosts. I hear them occasionally change positions and talk into their radios, but mostly, there’s just an oppressive silence that makes me want to scream.
A knock on my bedroom door interrupts my thoughts.
“Mila? Are you awake?”
Papa. What’s he doing here?
I grab a robe and pull it on before opening the door. Leonid stands in the hallway wearing an expensive suit. His face is drawn, making him somehow look older than the last time I saw him.
“Papa, I wasn’t expecting you.”
“May I come in?”
I step aside and let him enter. He walks to the window but doesn’t look out. Just stands there with his hands clasped behind his back like he’s gathering courage for whatever he came to say.
I’ve never been good at waiting for my father to speak. He uses silence as a weapon. A way to make people uncomfortable enough to fill the void with confessions or apologies.
Not today.
I cross my arms and lean against the desk, waiting for him to say whatever brought him out here.
“Irina is safe,” he finally tells me. “Thanks to you.”
“Thanks to Alexei. He mounted the rescue operation.”
“Yes, but you’re the reason he agreed to help.” Papa turns to face me. “What did you promise him?”
A lump lodges itself in my throat at the prospect of telling him what I did. “That’s between me and Alexei.”
“Your relationship with him is the only thing keeping this family from destruction, so I tend to think it is.”
“That’s dramatic, even for you.”
“It’s the truth,” he snaps. “The Novikov family has been building a coalition, ready to strike. Without Alexei’s protection, we’re vulnerable to attacks from multiple directions.
And before you ask, yes, I think your involvement with him is the reason he’s willing to put his family at risk to defend ours. ”
I consider this while another wave of nausea rolls through my gut. Six families.
“You think my sleeping with him will help keep our family safe?” I ask.
“I think his willingness to risk his men and his reputation to save your sister suggests he’s more invested in this family than a simple business arrangement would require.” Papa studies my face. “You’ve gotten under his skin. Made him care. That’s valuable.”
“I’m not just an asset you can leverage for business deals.”
“Every woman in our world understands that personal relationships have strategic value. Your mother certainly did. Well, she used to.”
The mention of Mama makes my stomach twist. “Don’t compare me to her.”
“Why not? She married me to secure her family’s position. Used her beauty and charm to create alliances that benefited everyone involved. There’s no shame in understanding how this world works.”
“She also left you the second things got difficult. Walked away from her daughters when we needed her most. That’s the example you want me to follow?”
Papa flinches. Good. He should flinch when he brings up the woman who abandoned us.
“Your mother made her choices,” he concedes. “I’m asking you to make better ones.”
“Better meaning what? Sleeping with Alexei to keep him invested in protecting us?”
“I want you to recognize that your relationship with him has become essential to our survival. That what started as physical attraction has evolved into something that benefits everyone.”
I sink onto the edge of the bed. “You want me to keep sleeping with him and make him care enough to protect us.”
“Would you just be honest about what’s already happening? You care about him. He cares about you. Why not use that to everyone’s advantage?”
“Because it’s manipulative and dishonest.”
“It’s strategic,” he corrects. Papa walks to the chair by the window and sits, settling in for a longer conversation than I want to have. “Six months ago, you rejected Alexei’s proposal because you wanted to finish your education and escape this life. Do you remember what I told you then?”
“That I was selfish and naive.”
“I told you that choices have consequences. Refusing to do your duty would put this family at risk. I was right. Irina’s pregnancy gave our enemies an opening. Your rejection of Alexei removed our best defense. The combination nearly destroyed us.”
“So, this is my fault?” I throw my hands in the air. “Everything that’s happened is because I wanted to finish my doctorate?”
“Your choices matter, Mila. You can’t separate yourself from this family, no matter how hard you try. And right now, the best choice you can make is to embrace what’s already developing between you and Alexei Kozlov.”
I stare at my father and wonder when he became this calculating. Maybe he’s always been this way, and I’ve just never noticed.
“What if he doesn’t want what you’re suggesting?” I ask. “What if he’s just protecting me because it serves his interests in this moment?”
“Make him want it. You’re smart and beautiful and capable of making any man fall in love with you if you choose to. Your mother taught you that much, at least.”
“Mama taught me that love is a transaction, that nothing is real, and that everyone uses everyone else.”
Papa stands and wags a finger in my direction. “I saw you at the wedding, Mila. The way you looked at him. The way you disappeared into the garden together was attraction.”
“So what if it was? That doesn’t mean I want to build my entire future around keeping a man interested.”
“No one’s asking you to build your future around anything.
I’m asking you to consider that maybe what you want and what the family needs aren’t mutually exclusive.
” He walks to the door. “Alexei risked everything to save your sister. He’s keeping you safe when he could have walked away.
Those aren’t the actions of a man who sees you as a transaction. ”
I snort and reply, “They’re the actions of a man who wants something from me.”
“Perhaps, but wanting and caring are sometimes the same.”
He opens the door and pauses on the threshold. “Think about what I’ve said. And Mila? Try to eat something. You look terrible.”
He leaves before I can think of anything witty to shoot back at him.
I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. My stomach rolls with another wave of nausea. My head throbs with the beginning of what promises to be a terrible headache.
Papa’s right: Alexei didn’t have to help Irina. He could have refused and let our family deal with the consequences of Irina’s choices. Instead, he put together a rescue operation that put him and his men in real danger.
Because I got on my knees and begged.
The memory makes shame burn through me. Not because of what I did, but because a part of me enjoyed it, and then he ruined it by comparing me to every other woman in this world. By treating what happened as if it were meaningless.
Except he apologized. He told me I was different. That he was wrong.
Does that change anything?
I didn’t know.
My phone sits on the nightstand. I could call Anna, tell her about Papa’s visit, and get her perspective on this mess.
I know she’d tell me that men like Alexei don’t change, and that I need to protect myself.
All things I’ve been telling myself for days now.
I push myself up and head to the bathroom again. My reflection hasn’t improved. If anything, I look worse.
Maybe all the stress of the past few weeks is finally catching up with me.
I splash more water on my face and ignore the nausea. I try to focus on anything except Papa’s suggestion that my relationship with Alexei is essential to our survival.
The responsibility of it is crushing. Everything depends on maintaining an undefined relationship with a man who can’t decide if he wants to protect me or control me.
A knock on the door makes me groan. If that’s Papa again, I’m going to scream.
But when I open it, one of Alexei’s guards is standing in the hallway, holding a tray.
“Breakfast, Miss. Mr. Kozlov wanted to make sure you ate.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“He was very specific about you needing to eat regularly. I’m supposed to wait and make sure you at least try something.”
Great. Even from across the city, Alexei’s controlling what I do.
I take the tray and set it on the desk. Toast. Eggs. Fruit. Orange juice. All things that should smell appealing, but instead make my stomach revolt.
The guard watches from the doorway while I force myself to take a bite of toast. It tastes like cardboard, but I chew and swallow anyway.
“Satisfied?” I ask.
“Mr. Kozlov will be pleased you’re eating.”
“Mr. Kozlov can mind his own business.”
The guard’s mouth twitches as he tries not to smile. “I’ll relay your message.”
He leaves, and I’m alone with breakfast I can’t stomach and thoughts I can’t organize.
I manage another bite of toast before I give up, push the tray away, and curl up on the bed. I’m exhausted.
I know this isn’t normal. The fatigue. The nausea. The way food makes me want to gag.
But acknowledging it means facing possibilities I’m not ready to consider.
So, I just close my eyes and try to shut off my brain long enough to get some sleep.
Papa’s words keep circling through my head, though. Your relationship with him has become essential to our survival.
I never wanted to be the thing standing between my family and destruction. Never wanted my personal feelings to have strategic implications that could affect everyone I love.
But here I am. Trapped in a countryside estate with guards outside my door. Waiting for a man who makes me feel things I shouldn’t to decide it’s safe enough to come back.
Waiting to figure out if what we have is real or just another manipulation in a world built on lies.
My stomach churns again. I roll onto my side and pull my knees to my chest, breathing through nausea that won’t fade no matter what I do.
This has to be stress. Has to be my body reacting to weeks of being held captive. To the constant fear and uncertainty and impossible choices.
It’s too soon for it to be anything else. Has to be.
It can’t be anything else.
I won’t let it be anything else.
The thought makes panic rise in my throat. I shove it down and focus on breathing. In and out. Slow and steady.
Everything will be fine. Alexei will come back. The threats will be eliminated. I’ll finish my degree and get back to my normal life.
Everything will be fine.
I repeat it like a mantra until exhaustion finally drags me under and sleep claims me, and I can stop thinking about impossible choices and dangerous men and the fact that my body feels wrong in ways I’m terrified to acknowledge.
When I wake hours later, the sun has moved across the sky. I’ve slept through most of the day.
The nausea is replaced by a hollow feeling that might be hunger or something else entirely.
I eat the cold toast from breakfast. Drink the orange juice that’s gone warm and force myself to consume calories even though nothing tastes right.
My phone shows no updates from Alexei about when he’s coming back.
The guards change shifts outside my door. New faces. Same instructions to keep me safe and contained.
I wander to the window and look out at the estate grounds. Trees sway in the breeze. Lawns manicured perfectly. It’s beautiful here. Peaceful.
And I’ve never felt more trapped in my life.
Afternoon fades to evening. The sky turns orange and pink as the sun sets, and still no word from Alexei about when he will return.
I’m alone with my thoughts, my nausea, and the growing certainty that something fundamental has changed.
Something I’m not ready to face.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.