Chapter 8 Roman
ROMAN
Mila sits in the chair by the window with her shoulders drawn in and her hands folded tightly in her lap.
It's not the posture of the woman who took the ring right off my finger or defied me openly.
She looks scared, or ashamed, maybe, and she glances up when I walk in and shut the door behind me, crossing directly to the bar cart for a drink.
I pour two glasses of vodka at the bar and bring them both over, then hand her one and sit across from her.
I'm not really sure what to do with this woman.
She's not a child I can scold or bend over my knee in punishment.
Yet, she's clearly not been educated about propriety or basic respect.
I have to wonder if her father was a failure or if it was the influence of her stepmother—what an atrocious woman—who hampered Mila's refinement.
"Drink it," I tell her plainly, because I think this conversation will go better for the both of us if she's a little looser. I want to get to the bottom of things, not have a screaming match, and Mila has a fire about her spirit that needs to be tamed gently.
Mila's eyes narrow at me, but she sips her vodka, scrunching her face up at the bite.
She winces and then downs the rest in one gulp and slaps the glass on the side table and returns her hands to her lap where they wring together again.
Clearly, she understands there are consequences for her actions and she feels regretful for eavesdropping. Lesson learned, I suppose.
"Your stepmother made me an interesting offer tonight," I tell her. "She wants me to marry one of her daughters, and in return, I'd take over your father's organization, absorb his territory, control his network. She made it sound very appealing."
Mila's jaw tightens. "Vera doesn't have the authority to make that offer.
" I can respect that she calls that horrible woman by her name instead of "mother" like some girls would.
From the little digging my brother has done into this situation, I've learned Anton married Vera years ago, when all three of the girls were still children.
A lot of young women would acclimate, call the stepmother something less formal.
The choice reveals Mila's disposition, even without seeing her disgusted expression.
"She seemed to think she does."
She turns to look straight at me with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils, lips pursed into a thin line. "My father left everything in a trust. It comes to me when I turn twenty-five, not to her."
I lean back and watch her curiously. She's told me part of the truth but not all of it.
I already know about the marriage requirement Anton put into place.
Timur pulled the trust documents last week, but Mila's leaving that piece out and I want to know why.
Why would she neglect to mention that she must be married for the trust to be released?
"So the organization is yours in three years," I say, "and Vera gets nothing."
"That's right." She turns away again, focusing her eyes on the bookshelf that holds my library of reading material. Though I highly doubt she's trying to see what titles I own and enjoy. She's avoiding eye contact for a reason—perhaps it's her tell.
"Then why is she so confident she can offer it to me?
" I sip my drink while I study her in equal parts curiosity and suspicion.
Something has woven its way around her heart to the point she is locked inside her own mind living in a fantasy world.
I just can't figure out how to tap into that and draw her out.
"Because she thinks she can make it impossible for me to inherit it." Finally, her head drops and I know I've gotten the first real statement out of her that she's ever spoken to me.
A strange feeling washes over me, like sympathy and doubt tangled up in a fierce desire to undo whatever injustice she's suffered at Vera Koval's hand.
And I hardly know her. We've only just met.
But anything that can transform that beautiful face into this expression of pain, which she tries to mask behind anger and a hard edge, must've been horrific to endure.
"How?" I press, finishing my glass and setting it aside.
"I'm tired. Can I go to my room now?" Mila picks at her fingernails rather than answering my question, so I allow her that moment of reprieve from the conversation we will inevitably return to.
It's not unheard of for a man in Anton's position to hold his legacy in a trust, and though it's rare to have a marriage clause, it is done even to this day.
I just don't think Radin knew his daughter well at all.
She has an iron will and a backbone of steel.
She is far better suited for his empire than his widow is.
"Well, then," I say as I stand and walk to my desk.
When Vera came today, she brought Mila's things.
I sent Radimir, who was turned away with instructions to expect Ms. Koval, and she showed up for dinner, to which she was never invited.
But I have Mila's things now, and that was the point of it all.
"These are yours," I tell her as I pick up the box and walk over to her.
Mila reaches for the box with both hands, and as she opens it, her whole body changes. Her shoulders sag and her hands hover over each item inside it. I stand back, thinking I should turn away, but I've been through it already and seen what it is.
"Thank you," she mutters without looking up from her things.
"Take a minute if you need it… Those must be very special to you."
Her chin rises, but the defiance she usually carries about her is gone.
All I see are the eyes of a broken woman—sad and hurting and perhaps a bit desperate for anyone to see who she really is.
Then she blinks a few times and that sadness gets tucked away behind a polite smile and an apologetic tone. "Can I take this to my room?"
"Not yet," I tell her, leaning back on the end of my desk. I cross my arms and then rest one ankle over the other. "We need to talk about your new position first."
Her eyebrows tuck together as her forehead creases. "What new position?"
"You're going to work directly for me now. Clean my quarters, serve my meals, travel with me when I leave the city. I want you close where I can keep an eye on you."
Framing it as a punishment following her eavesdropping is a convenient way to show her the shift in status without having to over explain why I want her near me.
The truth is, Mila brought a puzzle to light that I can't solve without knowing more or being able to study her. And while solving puzzles is fascinating to me, I’m finding that peeling back the layers this woman is hiding under is becoming all the more fascinating.
Besides, as tempting as Vera's offer is, I know she holds no power.
The real authority will never come from marrying one of her daughters.
Mila is the key to that. Now that Vera has dangled that carrot in front of me, I can't seem to stop thinking about how absorbing the entire Radin empire into my grasp would benefit me greatly.
"I'm not a servant, so you'll have to find someone else to do that." She hugs the box to her chest and rises, but I'm not finished with her.
"Of course you're not. You've proven your worth over the past three weeks or so, and I've seen you're capable of far more. You can help manage my schedule and take notes during my meetings and—"
"That's not a promotion. That's just more work." Now, there's that fire again.
I chuckle at her innocence and let the tightness in my chest relax as she glares at me.
She will make a strong leader one day, when she's learned how to channel all that fury into something productive.
I can't bear to squash it, though, because if she's to lead her family at all, she needs that edge.
"Ms. Radin, understand that I only allowed you to live because of that letter.
" Pushing off my desk, I walk the few steps that span between us and stand close enough to reach out and touch her.
"Your debt to me was great, but I excused most of it.
The arrangement where you work for me for now nine years, eleven months, and one week will not be expunged from your record simply because you are unhappy. "
The defiance in her eyes as she looks down and away from me doesn't escape me even for a second.
"If I say you're scrubbing toilets, then you'll scrub them.
And if I tell you to lick my boot, you will.
Do you understand?" She says nothing, so I continue.
"And if for any reason I am displeased with your performance, I will do to you what I would do to any of my fighters or soldiers or staff who displease me, and you will learn who is in charge. "
The muscle in her jaw tenses and her eyes shift.
What sort of witchery did Vera cast over her to cause her to be like this?
Where is her fight? Why is she not spitting in my face and slapping me?
My God, it enrages me to see her spirit broken like this when I know there is an inferno inside her waiting to rage out of control.
"So…" I clear my throat and continue. "As I was saying, you will be my personal assistant. You will travel with me, and dine with me, and anything I need help with, you will be my aide."
Mila sucks in a deep sigh and breathes it out slowly then asks, "May I go now?" without looking up at me.
"Of course. I'll expect you in one hour for a meeting, in my private dining room." As she turns to leave, I see her bag near my desk and call, "Oh, and I'll have your things brought to your room."
Mila stops on a dime and turns back, stomping over to her bag where she stoops to pick it up, though it appears heavy for her. "I can do it myself. The staff room isn't that far away."
"It's not going to the staff room." When she meets my gaze, I see the moisture in her eyes, tears she holds back and refuses to shed.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, the promotion to my assistant comes with a personal room. You won't be bunking with Sorin, Sara, and Rebecca anymore. You're being given your own room."
Her eyes dart around, and she licks her lips before her shoulders drop again. "I don't understand…"
The way her posture lightens as confusion masks her face is pure joy. It brings pleasure to my heart to watch her transform like this, though I don't know why.
"I can't have you waking them in the middle of the night when we return from long meetings or overseas trips, and you'll rest better if you have more space.
Besides, you'll require a desk and proper lighting to help with certain tasks, and that's better suited to a private space. Wouldn’t you agree? "
And though I don’t tell her this, I've already decided that if I am to absorb the Radin empire, it will be sooner rather than later.
It's looking like the only way to do that is to convince one very young heiress to merge our families using the very means her stepmother intends thievery by, and I won't have my future wife sleeping in servants’ quarters.
"Yes, of course," Mila says sheepishly. I reach up and curl a stray hair out of her face, and she stiffens at my touch, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Try to rest for a moment, Mila. You don’t have to hate this.” My fingers linger on her cheek, and I swear she leans into that soft touch for a second.
Then I call, "Yegor," startling her. She drops the bag and stiffens, squaring her shoulders. "Take Ms. Radin to the guest room, please, and have her things brought up. Whatever she needs or desires, provide it."
"Yes, sir," he says, dipping his head. He rushes over to pick up her bags and then leads her out, but she glances over her shoulder at me as she goes, and I notice the look of gratitude on her face.
I have always been the sort of man who can't let anything pass by me without understanding it fully.
Mysteries of the world, complex relational issues that require mastery.
And now this… There is a mountain looming in my purview that needs to be scaled by an expert mountain climber, and I consider myself the master of all.
Vera has no clue the can of worms she's opened, though I will show her one way or another.
She wants a marital agreement to form an alliance between our families and she has no legal authority to hand it over.
It's becoming ever so clear to me that Ms. Koval purposefully sent her stepdaughter directly into my path in hopes that it would be the end of her.
I think she capitalized on my appearance at her door after the fact, though.
I don't think her spontaneous offer of her daughters' hands in marriage was well thought out.
I think she hoped I'd kill Mila as a way to release Anton's fortune and that backfired, but now she's looking for a new way forward, and it will come back to bite her like a venomous serpent when she least expects it.
And I have surveyed the land and I know just how profitable an alliance could be now. That bait was so effective, I'm going to take it with eyes wide open. I will have Anton Radin's legacy as my own, and I will consume every bit of his authority and subject his men to my leadership.
And I will do it by marrying Mila Radin, whether she likes it or not.
But not before I uncover the real Vera Koval and whatever web of lies she's woven to deceive me.