35. Welcome to the family
THIRTY-FIVE
WELCOME TO THE FAMILY
By the time I’ve finished in the shower, I can hear that she’s uncovered the “her” bathroom annexed to her closet.
The only thing that eases my mood is when I look in the mirror as I brush my teeth.
Those little fangs of hers butchered my left pec and made a heart shape. Fuck—around the cut she gave me during her initiation.
My fingers absently stroke the marks she left behind…
I’m too old for this bullshit. Too old to believe in anything other than smart marriage matches.
Of course, Misha would say this is the opposite of a “smart marriage match.”
Not that I give a fuck what he thinks.
Perhaps it’s unfair of me to head downstairs without her once I’ve dressed. But as much as she just pissed me off, I want to gain some idea of the lay of the land.
One of my guards nods when he sees me then states, “In the breakfast room, shukher.”
I head that way and find the massive spread my staff have laid out in my absence.
“Are you sure it’s been pasteurized?”
I hear Inessa’s voice before I see her, as she has her back to the door.
“I’m certain, ma’am. Would you like me to bring you the tin?”
“Do you mind?”
“Of course not, ma’am. I remember how I had to double-check everything when I was pregnant too.”
Camille spots me first and narrows her eyes at me over a mimosa. “This was Victoria’s idea, wasn’t it? Bribe us with a breakfast banquet?”
Inessa twists around to glare at me. “Bitch knows I love me some brunch.”
I raise my hands as I slip into the room and take my seat at the head of the table. Even though I’m annoyed, there’s delicious wonder in seeing that the seat opposite me has had a place set there too.
For the first time since I moved into this house.
Camille follows my gaze. “Where is she?”
“Showering.”
Inessa complains, “This long?”
“Your sister is willful. As well you know,” I say dryly. “If you want to hurry her out from under the water, then that’s on you.”
“Willful, ha. At least he has an accurate read on her, Camille.”
“Nessa!”
“What? The man knows he married a spoiled princess.”
How right she is…
“Like Eoghan didn’t.”
“Hey! I wasn’t spoiled. Not at the beginning.”
“Just now?”
“Definitely now.” She shoots Camille a smug smile, who rolls her eyes. When the server returns, I think her name is Miroslava, she claps her hands. “You’re a darling!”
Together, they study the tin and Miroslava beams at her when Inessa doles up nearly half the mound on her own.
With the sense that I’m about to be eaten out of house and home for the second day in a row, I sink back in my seat as Miroslava asks, “The usual, sir?”
“Please. Victoria will be down shortly. Her breakfast is ready?”
“Almost.”
“Good. Thank you.” Noticing Camille’s still-narrowed eyes, I exclaim, “Let it out, Camille. I know you want to.”
“Are you the reason she was arrested?”
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
“Jesus, Camille. Talk about an unoriginal question.” Inessa scoops up finely diced boiled egg onto a blini and gestures at her sister with it. “As if he’d admit to lying to us.”
“I’m not lying.”
“Victoria’s never been arrested before.”
“She won’t be again.”
“But she reconnects with you and all of a sudden, she’s in a jail cell?!”
“She never saw a jail cell, but her experience in the police station is the reason she chose to marry me last night.”
“Explain.”
“Maxim,” Victoria admonishes. “You weren’t supposed to come down without me.”
I study her over my orange juice, taking in the ribbed sweater dress she poured her curves into and more of that clever makeup. She looks comfortable, at home, and sexy as fuck. “Greet your sisters, tsaritsa.”
That earns me sharp glances from the other women, but Victoria sinks into the seat opposite mine without a second look.
My god, how is this confident brat the same woman I made love to last night?
Ignoring both her siblings, she reaches for some watermelon juice. “I said I’ll deal with them.”
“And here I am. Letting you deal with them.”
Inessa points the mother-of-pearl spoon at her. “Hey, we’re not dog shit to clean up, you know?”
“Oh! That reminds me. Where’s Salome?!”
“Charlie is in the kitchen.”
Inessa frowns. “Who’s Charlie?”
“The dog. It’s a boy. I refuse to call a boy dog Salome. Get a girl dog and I’ll gladly call her that.”
“I thought it was quite fitting considering your first gift to me.” I bark out a laugh at her taunt. “I can’t believe you picked Charlie, Maxim. I mean, you could at least have gone for John!”
“That just cuts too close to the bone, and we’re peers at the Russian Orthodox church, Victoria. I refuse to explain to the bishop why we have two blasphemous names for dogs.”
“I agree,” Camille inserts. “As much as I loathe to. You can’t call your dogs John and Salome, Victoria.”
“Like people know who they are. I could be talking about any John in the world.”
“Perhaps, but not with Salome. That’s not exactly a common name.” Camille pinches the bridge of her nose. “Why do you do this? I’m mad at you and have no desire to talk about your dog’s damn name!”
“Well, it’s not my fault that you barged in the morning after my wedding night! I was very comfy and about to have breakfast in bed before you spoiled things.”
“You got married,” Inessa howls. “Without us!”
“Because I knew you’d overreact and I’m sick of being questioned about this.
Even Shay asked if I was doing the right thing!
This has been in the cards for years. Why is everyone so surprised that I want him?
” She grits her teeth. “Why is it such a shock that I’d want a man who will go to the extents Maxim has to protect me? ”
“Because you’re young!”
“I’m older than you when you were married, Inessa,” she snipes.
“And I didn’t choose Eoghan. He was chosen for me as I was for him. We’re lucky that it worked out and we love each other, but we were strangers. Just like you and Maxim!”
“We’re not strangers. I know him well.”
“Well,” Camille scoffs.
“I do! Maybe it’s not what he likes to do on Sunday afternoons or how he takes his eggs, but I know him. I know his heart and I know his soul.”
“You sound like a child.”
“I don’t wish to discuss this. Where’s Roman?” Her tone’s forcibly pleasant.
“No! You will not change the subject when—”
“Why are you giving me such a hard time, Camille?!”
“Because you’re the only daughter who had a say in who she’d marry and you still chose a career criminal! For God’s sake, I was hoping you’d attend Oakwood and find someone decent, someone who didn’t carry a hacksaw around as a backup plan. Some—”
“Someone boring. Someone who has no power. Someone who rides a desk. Someone who sits on a board of directors. Someone bland. Someone who pretends to be ‘good’ on the face of it but who has a furry kink he only explores with a hooker the second Friday of every month.” Her hands float upward.
“Maxim makes me feel safe. He makes me feel wanted.
He makes me feel seen. Nobody else sees me like he does. Nobody else accepts me like he does.
“You think I’m a child who just runs headfirst into situations, and maybe, sometimes, I do. I know I’m spoiled—yeah, I heard you earlier. But you’re the ones who made that happen. You’re the ones who tried to make up for having a cunt of a father by always letting me get away with murder.
“Guess what, sisters, I married up. I married a man who’ll kill for me! Just like you did. You taught me what to expect and to take nothing less, so basically, this is all your fault and you’re the ones reaping what you sowed while I get the only man I’ve ever wanted.”
The “so there” is silent.
By the end of her tirade, her tone turns smug.
Her sisters gawk at her.
And she flashes me a look loaded with her triumph.
What she said is only partially true… Victoria isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty.
Victoria isn’t ashamed to be marrying a career criminal either.
She’s the opposite.
She’s proud. Unafraid.
And, earlier irritation aside, I have never wanted to fuck her more.
I rub my chin, amused by the sisters’ prolonged silence as Miroslava makes an appearance with my steak and eggs.
Her gaze darts around the table in surprise at the loaded quiet, but she drops off the avocado toast with a shy duck of her head that Victoria returns with an extra-wide, extra-sunny-side-up smile that could illuminate this room for the next year, it’s so bright.
Only when Miroslava disappears to bring Victoria’s kasha does Inessa whine, “You could still have invited us.”
“I wanted to be his. I wanted it to be a fait accompli. No fuss, no ceremony. Just us.” She flashes both her hands and shows off her rings.
“I’m his. He’s mine. New York will find out soon enough not to fuck around with me.
” She punctuates that with a toss of her hair over her shoulder.
“You said it yourselves. I’m not like you.
I did have a choice. I chose this and I choose him.
But more importantly, I choose not to be a woman who stays at home in a gorgeous, gilded cage.
“Maxim knows what he signed up for with me, don’t you, husband?”
“I know that she’ll need double the guards she already has,” is all I say.
She shoots me an appreciative smile then glowers at her sisters. “Now, are you two going to give me any more shit, or can we enjoy breakfast? I have a lot of sex furniture to buy today and I don’t feel like doing it while I have indigestion.”
Inessa snorts. “Sex furniture?”
“Yes.” Victoria slowly spells out, “Furniture upon which to have sex, Inessa. I’m pretty sure we don’t all like to fuck on sofas that our guests sit on. Cum is so hard to get out of soft furnishings.”
I arch a brow at her. “How do you know that, kroshka?”
“Because Inessa and Eoghan can’t keep it contained to the bedroom, Maxim.”
“Ahh.”
When Inessa sputters, I hide a smile and Camille catches it.
Her hard gaze softens.
Her shoulders droop.
And she releases a vexed sigh.
It isn’t a “welcome to the family,” but it’s acceptance nonetheless.
Why did I ever think Victoria would have a problem handling her family?