Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Leah
Worst breakfast of my life. Bar none.
The whole family sat around that ridiculously long dining table. Maria held court at the head, cutting into her soft-boiled egg with surgical precision. Mira sat beside me, face buried in a giant bowl of cereal, stealing glances at us adults every now and then.
And Roman sat across from me—suit and tie, composed as hell, sipping his black coffee like this morning's bathroom fiasco never happened.
I gripped my fork, staring at the golden waffle on my plate, my face burning. My brain kept replaying the scene on loop.
No!
Stop it, Leah.
I stabbed the waffle viciously, like I could stab those images out of my head too.
I cursed myself six ways to Sunday. What the hell was I doing?
A few days in this house and I'd already slept in his bed and... and done that in the bathroom.
When did I become this spineless?
I took a deep breath, forcing myself to think straight. I needed to be clear about what this was.
The answer was obvious.
I'd probably rolled over in my sleep. This was just adult biology. Nothing more.
Roman was a thirty-eight-year-old man. A woman pressed against him—of course he'd react. Any man would. It had nothing to do with feelings. Pure physical need. A... convenient outlet.
I'd better not get any romantic notions.
I'd already made that mistake with Trent. Not making it twice.
And this man was a hundred times more dangerous than Trent ever was.
Once I'd sorted that out, I finally managed to squash that stupid flutter in my chest. I picked up my fork again, ready to eat my breakfast and put this morning behind me.
That's when something touched my leg under the table.
I snapped my head up, glaring across at him.
Roman held his coffee cup, discussing some business matter with Maria like nothing was happening, like that wandering foot under the table wasn't his.
But it kept going, slowly working its way up my calf.
Every hair on my body stood on end. I yanked my legs back, squeezing them together, dodging his advance.
We'd just done it this morning. My ass still hurt, and this bastard was at it again!
I mentally cursed Roman Volkov from head to toe. In front of his grandmother and daughter—how could he? How dare he?
I shoved waffle in my mouth and shot him a death glare.
The man finally lifted his eyes to meet mine, a faint smile playing at his lips.
That smile clearly said: What are you going to do about it?
I was furious but couldn't say a word. The shameless bastard—doing this in front of his whole family! Disgusting. Obscene!
I glared at him and stomped down hard—but Roman pulled his foot back at that exact moment. My foot hit the floor with a loud thud.
Everyone at the table turned to look at me.
I froze, laughed awkwardly, grabbed my orange juice and gulped it down, pretending nothing happened.
"What are you doing?"
A small voice piped up. I nearly spit out my juice.
Mira.
She put down her spoon, those huge dark eyes studying me and Roman seriously.
I stared in shock.
"She can talk," Roman said, reading my surprise. "She just doesn't often."
Before I could process that, Mira stuck out a chubby finger, pointing straight at Roman, and tattled in that sweet little voice:
"Daddy kicked Leah with his foot."
Maria choked on her coffee, coughing violently. She waved her hand, taking forever to recover.
God, I wished the floor would open up and swallow me whole.
I ducked my head, mentally cursing Roman Volkov a hundred more times.
Roman stayed perfectly calm, setting down his coffee cup and smoothly changing the subject.
"Mira," he looked at his daughter, "your tutor's here. Time for lessons."
Mira's little face fell. She shook her head frantically, bottom lip trembling—about to throw a fit.
I quickly put down my fork and leaned in, coaxing her softly. After promising to play games with her after class, Mira finally slid off her chair, letting a maid lead her upstairs. Before leaving, she shot her father one last fierce glare.
"Leah, you're such a patient girl."
Maria looked at me approvingly. I managed a weak smile.
"I can't wait to go shopping with you. My list is miles long."
"She can't go today." Roman cut in, answering for me. "Leah's not feeling well. She needs to rest."
Maria blinked, then seemed to catch on. Those sharp eyes swept between me and Roman.
I ducked back down to my waffle, silently consoling myself—however awkward this breakfast was, at least one good thing came of it. After today's performance, Maria was definitely convinced we were a loving couple.
Once Mira left and Maria went to nap, only the two of us remained.
I ignored him completely, attacking my cold waffle.
As I stabbed at it, my thoughts drifted back to Mira.
Her speaking up today—even just to tattle on Roman—was real progress. This past month, she'd improved. No more stabbing people on sight. Sometimes she even let me hold her hand.
But it was still so slow.
"I'm still worried about Mira. Our progress is so slow. Maybe I'm not doing enough... I'm trying so hard."
"Don't push yourself too hard." Roman's voice was low. "Mira will come around. That kid's got Volkov blood. She can spot who's real and who's fake a mile away."
Honestly, it wasn't the warmest reassurance.
But somehow, hearing those words, my sinking heart stopped falling.
Since the city trip got cancelled by Roman's decree, I kept my promise and took Mira out to the back lawn after her lessons.
Clouds raced across the sky. Mira's precious little cat came out to play too.
We played hide-and-seek, having a blast. Then that troublemaking cat climbed up an oak tree onto a high branch and got stuck, too scared by the wind to come down.
Mira panicked instantly.
"Waaah, Marshmallow..."
First time I'd seen Mira show this much emotion.
The maids freaked out, trying to comfort her while running back to the house to get security guards and a ladder.
Worse—a strong gust of wind hit, and the branch the cat sat on swayed dangerously. It wouldn't hold much longer.
No time to wait.
"Don't worry, Mira. I've got this. Marshmallow will be fine. I promise."
I crouched down and kicked off my shoes.
"Leah!" The housekeeper Emily realized what I was planning and rushed to stop me, face pale. "No! Too dangerous!"
I eyed the height. Not too high. Thick branches. I could do this.
"Emily, watch Mira." I tossed my shoes aside and rolled up my sleeves. "I'll grab it and come right back down. Quick."
I climbed barefoot up the rough bark, using hands and feet.
I'd spent summers at my grandmother's as a kid. No supervision—I ran wild with the neighborhood boys, climbing walls and trees, doing everything. Still had the skills.
The wind was fierce, whipping my hair around, making the branches shake. I gripped the sturdy trunk to steady myself, picking solid footholds, inching closer to the cat.
"Marshmallow, good kitty." I kept my voice gentle, reaching out. "Don't be scared. I'm here. Come on."
The terrified cat saw my hand and launched itself at me.
I exhaled in relief and caught it securely.
Going down was harder than going up. One hand protecting the trembling cat, one hand grabbing branches, feet searching for holds—painfully slow. Finally near the bottom, I figured I was close enough, let go, and jumped lightly down.
I didn't land steady. My thigh scraped hard against a protruding branch.
Sharp pain.
I looked down. A gash on my leg, beading blood.
"Leah! Are you okay?"
Emily's face went white. She cried out and started toward me.
I opened my mouth to say it was nothing, just a scratch—
But before I could speak, a shadow fell over me.
A small body crashed into my arms.
Mira.
She looked up at me, staring at the bleeding cut on my leg. Her lip trembled, and fat tears rolled down her cheeks.
"Marshmallow... Leah, you saved Marshmallow... you're hurt..."
My nose stung.
This was the first time Mira hugged me on her own.
Worth it. My plan to win Mira over had just made a massive leap forward. This scratch on my leg—totally worth it.
"Don't worry, Mira. I'm fine. No crying, or you'll turn into a little raccoon."
By the time I came out of the medical room, Mira had completely transformed. She stuck to me like glue.
Following me everywhere, tugging on my sleeve, constantly checking the Band-Aid on my arm.
"It's just a little scratch, Mira." I smiled helplessly.
Mira held my hand tighter, acting very grown-up. "No. I have to protect you. Kids can't do dangerous things. You can't either."
All those days of effort, all those rejections—it all paid off in this moment.
That night, Mira insisted I sleep with her.
I read her bedtime stories. The little one lay obediently under the covers, one small hand clutching my finger the whole time.
I turned pages one by one until Mira gradually drifted off.
I closed the book gently, looking down at her sleeping face. Long lashes, soft even breathing, mouth slightly open.
Sleeping Mira was sweet and adorable, like a little angel.
In her sleep, Mira unconsciously shifted closer, pressing tight against my arm, seeking warmth.
"Mommy..."
I looked down at sleeping Mira, my heart aching.
No matter how hard I tried, how genuine my care—I could never... never replace her real mother.
I carefully extracted my finger from her grip, tucked the covers around her, and tiptoed out, heading back to my room.
The moon hung high. The massive house had gone quiet. Creak—Roman finally came back.
He shrugged off his jacket and collapsed on the leather sofa, rubbing his temples.
"Emily said you climbed a tree to rescue a cat today. You okay?"
"I'm fine! I have amazing news!" I jumped up from the bed and rushed over, eyes shining. "Roman! Mira hugged me today! You know what? She hugged me for the first time!"
Roman raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my excitement.
"Really? She hugged you?"
"I told you!" I said triumphantly, nearly spinning in a circle. "I told you she'd accept me eventually! See? I did it!"
Roman listened quietly, watching me gesticulate wildly. Something in his usually hard eyes softened; even the corner of his mouth relaxed slightly.
I rarely saw him look this... gentle. It made me even happier.
"Mira's such a good kid," I said sincerely.
Roman hummed in agreement. He seemed in a good mood.
"Kids this age need their mom the most. It would be so good if she had her mother around."
I sighed, the words tumbling out.
"Where's Irina? Can't she come see Mira—"
I hadn't finished.
"Enough."
A cold interruption. Like ice water dumped over my head.
I froze, looking up instinctively.
Whatever warmth had briefly appeared on Roman's face vanished in an instant. Replaced by that familiar darkness.
My heart dropped.
"Leah, I think you'd better remember your place. You're overstepping."
I stood there, paralyzed.
I opened my mouth to explain, to say I didn't mean anything and that I just felt bad for Mira.
But nothing came out.
What was I? A fake wife on a one-year contract. What right did I have to ask about his family business?
I'd gotten too big for my britches.
Roman spun around, his back to me, and strode toward the door.
The door crashed shut behind him.
The sound echoed through the empty master bedroom, making my heart jump.