Chapter 16
Chapter
Sixteen
SOFIYA
M y laughter finally abates when Mikhail sets me down on our bed.
“Are you all right?” he asks. Mikhail isn’t the most emotional man. Usually, his expressions range from stern to lustful. But right now, he’s looking at me with concern, showing me he does care for me.
“You blinded Andrei.” I giggle at the memory.
Mikhail sighs deeply and sits beside me. “I know I did. And you haven’t stopped laughing since. I’m guessing you’re not all right.”
“I’m laughing. How can I not be all right?”
“Sofiya, talk to me.” He reaches for my hand, but I pull away and stand up, a sudden, intense anger filling me.
“How can I talk to you when you never talk to me?”
He frowns. “I talk to you all the time.”
“No. I mean, personally. You’re asking me to tell you how I feel, but you never share anything remotely personal about yourself. I had to find out about Natasha through Mary, and I had to find out about your son through Boris, of all people. How do you think that makes me feel?”
“You’re no longer laughing.”
“No, I’m pissed.”
Mikhail tilts his head, looking me over. It’s like he’s scrutinizing me, and I hate it. “You’re not acting like my good girl right now.”
“I’m tired of being your good girl and getting nothing in return.”
“I provide for you. I take care of you. What more can you want?”
“You!” I shout as my anger and fear and shock bubble over. Mikhail’s eyes widen. “I want to know you, Mikhail. You haven’t told me a thing about your past. I don’t even know your son’s name.”
His head bows as he breathes deeply until he finally looks back at me. “Alexei. My son’s name was Alexei.”
I expected a fight, not for Mikhail to tell me that .
“Oh,” I say, the anger deflating from me. “That’s a nice name.”
“I picked it out. It means ‘protector of men.’ I thought it would make him strong so that when he grew up, he could take after me. Except …”
“Except he didn’t get the chance to grow up,” I finish for him.
Mikhail nods once. “He was five.”
I gasp and slowly sit back down beside him. “That’s … I can’t imagine losing a child. Let alone one so young.”
“He was murdered.”
My entire body freezes. When Mikhail told me his son had died, I assumed it was from something like a car crash. Common occurrences that cause unfair deaths. Not murder. Murder never crossed my mind.
“He was only five years old and was murdered.”
“Oh, Mikhail.” I place my hand on his arm, and he doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in a little closer.
“I found him when I came back home. Covered in blood. Stab—” He cuts off suddenly. I’ve never seen this expression on his face before—it’s pure anguish. “He was stabbed to death.”
“By who?”
He makes a sound between a laugh and a scoff. “By a man named Ivan Petrov. He was my father’s rival and became mine after I took over. He’s dead now. Died of a heart attack. I didn’t even get to have my revenge.”
“You told me before your wife also died. Did she …”
“No. She was attacked by Ivan and his men, but she survived. She had to watch our son get killed while they were …” He roughly shakes his head. “While they raped her.”
I’m scared to even speak. Mikhail is revealing so much. It’s no wonder he didn’t want to talk about it before. If this had happened to me, I don’t even think I’d be able to speak at all.
“No,” he continues. “Natasha died later.” He clears his throat. “From suicide. Alexei’s death was too much for her to handle.”
“God, Mikhail. I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but … I’m sorry for pushing you to tell me.”
“No. I should have told you. You’re my wife. You have the right to know me. I just can’t say more. It’s too much.”
“I understand.” I rub my hand up and down his arm. I’m not even sure he can feel it. His eyes are far away right now. “When I lost my parents, I never thought I’d survive it.”
“I didn’t love my parents, so I wasn’t upset when they died.”
I flinch slightly. “Oh.”
He glances at me with a strangely open expression. “I’m assuming you loved your parents.”
“I did. Well … I loved my mother. My father …” I shrug. “He always made Vik and me fight for his attention. It made Vik resent me, and I can’t forgive our father for that. But my mother … She meant everything to me. I still miss her.”
“She only died a month ago. It’s still new for you.”
“How long ago did …”
“Did Alexei die? Twenty years now.”
“Wow. Long time.”
“Yes.” He bows his head, not meeting my eyes. “And it still hurts,” he admits. Mikhail has never been vulnerable like this with me. It only makes my heart flutter from … love. I think I might be falling in love with him.
“Greif doesn’t make sense. This is what I wanted to talk to you about earlier today. I wanted to tell you that you can trust me with your emotions. I understand grief. I would never judge you for how you feel over losing your son and wife.”
His lips curl into the smallest smile, and it means the world to me. “You really are my good girl.” He bores his eyes back into mine. “I admit, I don’t miss Natasha. If she were still alive, I’d still be married to her, and I wouldn’t have you in my life.”
I know his words are meant to be romantic, but they only fill me with fear. If he didn’t love Natasha, can he ever love me?
“Mikhail, do you want children with me? Truly?”
He places his hand on my stomach, his fingers stretching across my abdomen. “You’re so tiny.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I want children with you, Sofiya. I want to start again.”
I’m scared to ask him my next question but I have to ask it. Otherwise, it will tear me down until I can’t breathe. “Are you trying to replace Natasha with me?”
He rips his hand away and stands up. “Why would you ask me that?”
“I need to know. I need to know that if we have children—which is a very strong possibility because we haven’t been using protection—that you’re not looking to replace Alexei with our children. I need to know you’ll see them for who they are and not for … the past.”
“How can you ask me that? I can never forget Alexei.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
“It sounds like it.”
“No. All I’m asking is you see our children for who they are. That’s it. I’m not asking you to forget your son or your first wife, just like I would never expect anyone to ask me to forget my parents. I need to know you’re all in with me. If we’re going to have kids, I need to know, Mikhail.”
He’s breathing heavily, but then, slowly, his anger subsides, and his shoulders slump. “I’m all in, Sofiya. I never got to choose Natasha, but I chose you.”
“Thank you.”
He nods. “I need some time to think. I’ll see you in the morning.” He leaves the room before I can say anything more.
Once again, I’m left alone, but this time, I feel hope.
MILA
Sofiya is asleep when I go to ask her if she wants to get coffee with me. She’s been sleeping in a lot lately. Makes me wonder what she and Mikhail get up to at night.
The thought immediately makes me blush. I have some idea, but I’d rather not know. That’s personal.
I try to get Vik to go with me, but she has an appointment to get her cast removed. Enough weeks have passed, and she can move around more freely on her foot without crutches. So, it’s up to me to entertain myself.
I go to the coffee shop across the street with a guard in tow and nurse my coffee for a while, just letting my mind wander as I look out the window. This is my life now. Moscow. It’s beautiful in the summertime, but then again, so is New York. I’ll probably never see New York again, not with Boris on the loose.
And speaking of Boris … he walks right into the coffee shop and up to my table before I even realize it’s him. My guard, Fedor, walks over and asks me if everything is all right.
“I need to talk to you,” Boris says, ignoring Fedor.
Vik always tells me I need to assert myself better. She’s not shy in telling men how she feels.
Unfortunately, I’m not Viktoriya.
“Ok,” I whisper, motioning to the seat across from me.
“I’ll be right over there,” Fedor tells me, settling back into the corner.
“I want to marry you, Mila,” Boris says, grabbing my hands in his. Gently, I remove them and stick them under my thighs.
“I’m sorry, Boris. But … I don’t want to marry you.”
“You don’t have a choice. You should be grateful to marry a man like me.”
I’ve been dreaming of my prince charming since I was a girl. I intend to get my prince charming someday, and Boris is definitely not prince charming material. If I were Vik, I would tell him that.
Instead, I say, “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“You can’t. Or you won’t?”
“I don’t think Mikhail wants me to get married.” I’m not sure if that’s a lie or not. Mikhail hasn’t forced me to marry anyone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want me married someday. He could easily make me marry someone if it worked in his favor. That’s what Vik has been telling me. We can’t fully trust Mikhail, but he’s the only one who can protect us right now.
“I can talk to Mikhail,” Boris says in a hopeful tone, which is the last thing I want.
“I’m sorry, Boris. I just think that Mikhail wants me to be here for Sofiya. She’s been … going through a lot, and she needs me.”
“Why would a marriage stop you from being there for your sister?”
“Oh. I assumed because you’d take me back to New York.”
“I am going to take you back to New York.”
I sink lower in my seat, wishing I was wearing a large hoodie. If it were winter, I would be, but because it’s summertime, I’m wearing a summer dress, which doesn’t offer me any protection whatsoever.
“I can't marry you, Boris. Please respect that.”
“No,” he growls, slamming his hand on the table. Fedor walks over and motions for Boris to get up.
“You need to leave.”
Boris sneers. “You’re not the boss of me.”
“No. But I work for Mr. Ivanov, and he has made it my mission to make sure his wife and her sisters are taken care of. So, you need to leave.”
Boris looks at me, waiting for me to correct Fedor. When I don’t, his eyes narrow. “You’re mine, Mila.” Even though he threatens me, he still leaves the coffee shop.
“Are you all right?” Fedor asks.
Am I all right? Despite being under Mikhail’s care, I don’t feel safe at all.
I hurry back to the penthouse and find Vik and Sofiya at the kitchen table. “Boris cornered me in the coffee shop.”
Vik scoffs. “Ignore him. He’s not worth your time.”
“I think he’s going to find a way to marry me.” I slide into a seat across from my older sisters.
“You’re safe here,” Sofiya says softly. “Mikhail will keep Boris away.”
“Will he?” I ask.
Sofiya frowns. “Why would you ask me that? Has something happened?”
“No. I just get this sense Boris doesn’t care that we’re under Mikhail’s protection. I worry he’s going to drag me back to New York and force me to marry him. You have to make sure I’m protected.”
“I will,” Sofiya promises. “You know I will.”
“Do we?” Vik asks, taking a bite of her oatmeal.
Sofiya sighs and turns to Vik. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s just that ever since we’ve been here, Mikhail has done nothing but humiliate us. First, the party where I got slapped in the face. Then his second in command kidnapped us and forced me to crawl on the floor. And then, at the other party, he made me dance on my broken ankle. He did it to embarrass us.”
“Embarrass us or you?” Sofiya asks. “Because Mikhail has been good to me.”
“Really? Because I’ve heard the screams coming from that room”—she points to the door we aren’t allowed through— “almost every night we’ve been here. He hurts you, Sofiya.”
“My husband doesn’t hurt me. He protects me. You don’t know what he and I do together.”
“I know enough from the screams I hear. Oh, and the bruises I’ve seen on your legs. You wear short dresses, Sofiya. I’ve seen them.”
Sofiya flushes for a reason I don’t understand. “Mikhail doesn’t hurt me,” she repeats. “I’m not going to tell you what we do together, but all you need to know is I’m safe. We’re all safe.” She turns to me with a kind smile. “Mikhail will make sure you’re safe from Boris, Mila. I promise.”
I want to believe her, but Vik’s words rattle around in my head. “Are you sure you’re safe? If what Vik is saying is true …”
“It’s not,” Sofiya snaps, and I flinch. Sofiya never snaps at me. “It’s not,” she says in a softer tone. “I promise you, Mila. What Mikhail and I do behind closed doors is for us only. I’m not in danger. I need both of you to trust me. Vik?”
Vik stares at Sofiya, keeping her back straight and head up. I could never win any staring contest with Vik when we were younger. She’s too disciplined. “What?”
“I need you to say you trust Mikhail to keep us safe. Mila needs to hear you say it.”
“How can I say it when I don’t believe it?”
I can tell that Vik’s words are a punch to Sofiya by how her shoulders slump inward.
“Now,” Vik stands up, “I need to head to my appointment. I’m getting my cast removed. Hopefully, I’ll be able to dance again. No thanks to you.”
Sofiya sighs and lowers her eyes to the table.
I follow Vik to the front door. “You know it’s not Sofiya’s fault you broke your ankle.”
“Isn’t it? I was the one carrying her, and she fell on top of me, causing me to break my ankle. I might not have a career because of her.”
“None of us have danced on a stage in weeks. I’ll be honest … I’m not sure I miss it.”
“You take that back,” Vik hisses, making me jerk back. “Dancing is your life, just as much as it is mine. And once Boris has moved on to someone else, we’ll go back to New York and resume our dance careers.”
“What about Sofiya?”
Vik shrugs as she opens the door. “She can stay here with her husband. You heard her. He’ll protect her. I just don’t think he’ll protect us. Don’t go off alone again where Boris can get to you. That’s all I can say. For your own good, Mila.”
I step back, my entire body feeling rejected. For a second, Vik’s eyes soften, but then, she turns and leaves. I don’t go with her to her appointment. Normally, I would be doing everything I could to help comfort Vik, but right now, all I feel is alone.
Alone and worried that Boris is coming for me and no one will be able to stop him. Not Mikhail. Not my sisters, who won’t stop fighting.
Not even myself. Because what can I do against a man like Boris?
Nothing is the sad answer.
VIKTORIYA
It feels amazing to have my cast removed and the x-rays show my ankle has healed up nicely. I’ll just need a few weeks of physical therapy, and then I can return to dancing.
My body itches to dance again, but my body is also stopping me from doing it. I’m not ready yet, but I will be soon. I have to be. Dance is my life. Sofiya might not care. She hasn’t shown any interest in ballet since marrying Mikhail. Whatever. It’s her life. If she doesn’t want my help, then so be it.
But it’s not too late for Mila. I can still encourage her to return to New York with me and take to the stage again.
Oh, the stage. That’s where I belong. Where I don’t belong is in Moscow, surrounded by men who want to hurt me and where my creativity is stifled.
When I get back to Mikhail’s house, Sofiya is on the couch with Mila, looking sad. I don’t want to say, “I told you so,” so I don’t. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like seeing either of my sisters sad.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Your foot,” Mila says, jumping up from the couch. “How does it feel?”
“It’s still tender, but I can walk on it. I just can’t dance yet.”
“You will. Soon.”
I appreciate Mila’s enthusiasm, but it’s also annoying sometimes. “What’s going on?”
“Mikhail is having another party. He’s inviting his men over,” Sofiya explains.
“But why?”
Sofiya sighs and looks away from me. “Mikhail likes to make his men feel welcomed in his home. It creates loyalty.”
“Why do you look upset?”
“Because I know what happened last time. I’m not looking forward to it. But … Andrei shouldn’t be here, at least.”
“Isn’t Andrei Mikhail’s second in command?” I ask, sitting down.
“Yes. Until Mikhail blinded him.”
I do a double take. Surely, I didn’t hear Sofiya right. “What? Did you say he … blinded him?”
“Yes. For looking at me. Mikhail got tired of it.”
“And you say we’re safe with him.”
“Vik, don’t start again,” Sofiya sighs. “Mikhail would never physically hurt you, ok? Now, I just want to get this party over with.”
“Me, too.”
Mila raises her hand. “Me three.”
The party is once again filled with men. Mila and Sofiya cling to each other as they make rounds around the room. My eyes land on Mikhail, chatting with his guests. How easy life must be for him. It makes me sick, and to think at one point, I wanted to marry him. If my time in Moscow has taught me anything, it’s that no man is worth it.
I remain standing in the corner, glaring at any man who dares approach me.
Until Aleksander enters the room. I remember him from the first party. He had the audacity to tell me to be careful how I act around men. Well, fuck him. I do what I want when I want.
He sets his sights on me and walks right over. “Nice seeing you again.”
“No, it’s not,” I reply.
“Didn’t I tell you before to watch your attitude around men?”
“You did, and I didn’t appreciate it, so I’m choosing to ignore you.”
His eyes flit down to my ankle. “I see your cast is gone. Does that mean you can dance again?”
“Not yet, but hopefully in a few weeks.”
“Hmm.” He grabs a champagne glass from a waiter nearby and lifts it to his lips. For some reason, I tingle under his gaze.
I hate it.
“I’d like to see you dance. Why don’t you put on a show for all of us?”
I glare harder at him. “I just told you. I can’t dance right now.”
“But I’d like to see it. Dance for me, Viktoriya.”
I laugh haughtily. “I am not going to dance for you.”
He claps his hands together and draws the attention of everyone in the room. “Who would like to see Viktoriya dance? I hear she’s a lovely ballet dancer.”
There’s a murmur of agreement throughout the room.
“See?” Aleksander says, turning back to me. “So, dance.”
I am being humiliated again. I told Sofiya I wasn’t safe here, and she didn’t believe me.
With everyone’s eyes on me, I feel the pressure to walk forward and begin to move. My dress is too tight to do much, but I still manage to be graceful. My eyes catch Sofiya’s, and she looks worried. Worried for me? I didn’t think Sofiya cared enough about me to be worried for me.
I finish the dance with a bow.
Everyone claps.
“Again,” Aleksander says.
I straighten up. “What?”
“That was beautiful. So … again.”
I look at Sofiya, and she shrugs, shaking her head. “No,” I tell Aleksander.
“Dance,” he repeats.
The room is deadly quiet as Aleksander and I have a stare-down.
“No,” I enunciate. No one will force me to do anything I don’t want to do. That is my worth, and I’m sticking to it.
But I can feel the pressure building in the room like it’s going to explode at any second.
SOFIYA
I walk over to Mikhail’s side. “Help her,” I ask.
“Who?”
I stare at him for a moment. “Vik. That man is forcing her to dance. You know her ankle is still weak. Please, Mikhail. Stop this.”
“My men can do what they want. Aleksander wants to see your sister dance, so he’s allowed to see your sister dance.”
“What about Andrei? Andrei thought he could look at me, but you didn’t allow it.”
“That’s because you’re my wife, Sofiya. Viktoriya isn’t my wife.”
“So, you don’t care what happens to her?”
He sighs deeply. “I only care because you care.”
“So, stop this. Stop humiliating her. If you really care for me, you’ll do this.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then …” I know the answer as soon as it hits me. “I can never love you, Mikhail.”
His eyes turn intense. “Sofiya …”
“I can never love you if you hurt my family. I realize that now. I’ve given you all of myself, Mikhail. You’ve opened up to me. We’re supposed to trust each other. So, if you care for me, you will stop this.”
“I need to be strong in front of my men.”
“Showing compassion isn’t weakness. I’m going to stop this.” I walk away from Mikhail before he can stop me and grab Vik’s arm. “Come on. We’re heading upstairs.” I nod at Mila to join us. She hurries to my side.
Vik gives Aleksander a snotty look before following me up the stairs.
When I glance back down, I see Mikhail looking up at me, an unreadable expression on his face. A part of me wants him to stop me, to punish me for acting out.
But he doesn’t.
He lets me walk away with my sisters.
And the moment I’m alone in Vik’s room with them, I break down in tears. Mila looks scared while I cry. Vik takes a moment, then wraps her arms around me.
The three of us hold each other as I cry. I cry over my lingering loneliness. I cry over Mikhail hurting my heart and choosing his men’s desires over my sister’s safety. I cry because I’m not sure Mikhail can ever let himself fully open up to me enough to love me.
Because I’m already falling in love with him, and if he doesn’t feel the same, then my loneliness will eat away at me until there’s nothing left.
MIKHAIL
I send all my men home and head upstairs to check on Sofiya. I’m angry with her for embarrassing me in front of my men. She needs to be punished.
But she’s not in our room.
It’s then I hear crying coming from the guest bedroom. I’ve heard Sofiya cry before. I recognize the sound.
I rest my ear to the door and listen. She’s sobbing while her sisters softly comfort her.
That should be my job. I should be the one comforting my wife right now.
Instead, I’m the reason she’s crying.
I should have stopped Aleksander from humiliating Viktoriya. But the reality is I just don’t like Viktoriya one bit, and it’s hard for me to care for those I don’t like.
But she’s Sofiya’s family. I have to remember what that feels like—family.
I had a family until it was ripped away from me. The moment Alexei died, all the joy left my life. And then, when Natasha died, the last shreds of happiness disappeared.
On the day of Alexei’s funeral, I shut my heart off. I explored relationships with women, but I never formed personal attachments. It’s how I was able to kill Irina so easily. She meant nothing to me.
No one did.
Not until Sofiya.
Not until I saw her dancing on that stage and knew I had to have her.
She’s slowly opened my heart back up, but I don’t know what to do with that. Being emotionally available has never been my strong suit.
Now, she’s crying with her sisters because I didn’t save Viktoriya from embarrassment. The natural part of me wants to say Viktoriya is a big girl and can handle herself. But Sofiya is my wife now. I care about what happens to her.
Which means I need to care about her sisters, too.
With a deep sigh, I resist the urge to grab Sofiya and drag her into the playroom to punish her. That can wait until another day. For now, I’m going to be a good husband and let someone else comfort my wife, even though it hurts my entire being to walk away.