Chapter 4 Roman #2
I transfer my grip from Mila's hair to Yegor’s hand on her arm, and he takes hold of her while I snatch the letter she's holding out of her grasp and glance up at Vera, who stands at rapt attention.
It's like suddenly, what was supposed to be a transaction has become a spectacle, and I'm in the spotlight.
"What is it?" Vera asks me, and now instead of the performance, I see genuine interest. I have no clue what it is, and I'm ready to ball it up and throw it away until I see the wax seal, the clover and vine, and it makes every hair on my body bristle.
"Please," Mila says, nodding as she rubs her head where I pulled her hair. As she does, I see the ring on her finger flash in the light and scowl at her.
I don't have to read it to know what it is, and it sickens me to unfurl it and let my eyes sweep across the handwritten page.
I've never seen it, but I've heard of its existence and swore an oath to my father to pay attention when it was presented. It's dated from a period when I was six years old, during months when the Kuzin family's enemies were aggressive enough that I was moved between locations for my own safety.
There were three days during that time that I don't remember clearly. Three days when the people responsible for keeping me safe made a mistake and I was found, and would've been killed, if not for the kindness of a stranger.
My father told me later, when I was old enough to understand the weight of it, that a man named Milos had come across me during those three days and kept me alive until our people could reach me.
That this had been written down and sealed as a formal debt owed by the Kuzin family.
That when someone bearing proof of it came forward, that debt had to be honored.
I've known about this debt my entire adult life. I've lived under it without ever having to contend with it because the letter existed somewhere I couldn't see it, and what you can't see you can, for practical purposes, ignore.
I look up from the paper.
Mila's watching me and her eyes haven't dropped for a second, and though Yegor has a firm grip on her, she still has that level chin and those narrowed eyes. It's infuriating and the letter only makes my blood boil hotter.
"My grandfather was Milos," she says quietly, in a controlled tone and entirely without apology. "The debt passed to my mother when he died and to me when she died." This only makes me angrier and Mila feistier. She pulls from Yegor's grip and tugs her dress straight. "Get out of my house."
Now the rage burns hotter.
I've built everything I have on the principle that a man who doesn't honor his word is a man who has nothing worth keeping.
The Kuzin name means something today because of that principle.
Everyone in this city, and in greater Russia, knows that I am a man of my word.
If I say it, I will do it, because I don't say anything I don't mean.
And this complicates everything.
"Where did you get this?" I say quietly, though the growl is not soft.
"I told you. My grandfather was Milos Plichinko… The ring used to seal this belonged to my grandfather, and to my father when he married my mother. That's why Vera told me to steal it—"
"Oh, precious child—" Vera mumbles, but the humor in her tone is forced and Mila talks over her.
"—and why I now own it again. Whatever you have planned, forget it. And leave my family home now." Now her chest heaves with emotion and her eyes sparkle with unshed tears. I doubt she'll shed them, either. From what I've seen of her, she's more of a soldier than a few of my own men.
"Roman, you can’t think I sent her to do this," Vera says again from behind me. She walks over to stand beside us as I stare at Mila and try to decide what to do. "I feel like we could work this out simply if you just—"
"You stole from me…" I say, interrupting Vera, and my eyes are locked on Mila.
I don't like this at all. I would never let something like this slide. It's what I’m known for, parsing out punishment where it's due and toeing a line. I don't go soft on people, and this time, my hands are tied.
Mila's bottom lip trembles slightly before she schools it and scowls. "I took what was mine."
The nerve… I could smack her, but I control myself and glance at Vera who still hovers nearby like she's watching an execution. She has a smug smirk on her face and her daughters have come crawling back into the light like timid roaches.
"You stole from me," I repeat, and this time, I keep going. "And the punishment for theft is death." I pause, turning fully back to Mila. "Now I understand this agreement was made for me before I was able to consent, and I do admit that I've taken the obligation upon myself to stay faithful to it."
Mila watches as I pull my lighter from my pocket and hold it under the letter, now dangling from my fingers.
Her mouth forms an "O" as I flick the lighter and hold the flame under the paper.
It browns at the edge before catching, then slow flames trickle upward, letting smoke filter toward the vaulted ceiling.
"The agreement is complete," I state. Then I say, "But you still owe a price."
Mila scoffs and starts to walk off, but Yegor snatches her arm and holds her in place as I continue handing out my punishment.
"You will work for me for ten years, after which time you will be free to do as you please." I nod at Yegor. "And now Yegor will take you to my car and you will stay there with him—"
"You can't do this!" she hisses, straining against his grip. "That letter means nothing to you! You owe a debt."
"Enough!" I shout, and it startles her. "Take her to my car. I’m done talking," I tell my driver, and he begins wrestling her through the doorway, much to her protest. She claws and screams and Yegor has a fight on his hands, but I turn slowly to address Vera and her predatory grin.
She's already recalibrating too, finding the new angle, and I can see the process of it happening in real time, the slight lift of her chin, the adjustment in posture, the expression settling into something more businesslike and forward-looking. She's good at this, and I make a note of it.
"Ms. Koval," I say, because she clearly is not a Radin in any form. "It's a shame you can't defend your daughter against this, but I don't suppose it matters much at this point. I'll be taking her for now."
"And the arrangement I mentioned?" she says. "My daughters… Surely, you understand how an alliance would benefit your family. A marriage of this stature could seal things nicely. You'll consider it?"
"I'll think about it," I tell her, but honestly, I'm not interested in the slightest. "Good day."
Turning, I exit the property and see Yegor still fighting Mila into the back seat, and now I do see tears on her cheeks.
I may not be interested in a marriage alliance with that horrible woman, but the prospect of owning everything Anton Radin built does pique my interest. Maybe I won't start a war over this, but Mila humiliated me in front of my men.
That means she owes me a huge debt—maybe not death, but certainly more than ten years of servitude.
And what really interests me is why Vera said nothing. Why she would just let me waltz into her home and take her dead husband's daughter. Something is off about her, and I'm going to figure out what.
Right after I tame this rebellious woman into something I can manage.