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“Can’t a mother check on her daughter’s business?” she asks as she dusts off a part of the seat across from me.
I narrow my gaze on her. Daughter’s business. I’m not her daughter.
“No, she can’t. Aren’t you supposed to be baking muffins or something in your retired life?”
“About that. I think it’s time I pick up the reins again and try to straighten out this fiasco,” she says.
“I’m sorry, what?” I ask, trying to figure out if I heard her right.
“You’re a mess, sweetheart. I thought you might be able to do this without Alek, but it appears it’s too hard for you.”
My eyebrows furrow in confusion. “You’re fucking with me, right? What part do you think is going amiss? Everything is still running as smoothly as ever. I make sure it does.”
She gives me a patronizing stare. “Not if you’re galivanting around with a man who is clearly only using you to benefit himself. Anya, darling, how many times have I told you not to fall for a man?”
I lick my lips, trying to moisten my dry mouth. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but the same man you’re talking about is the very same one I shot at through his car a week ago.”
Her gaze is piercing as she says, “You said you shot at him, not that you actually shot him, Anya. I know how good your aim is. You’ve become soft.”
I choke on her accusation. “Are you serious right now?”
“Your man has put feelers out on me. He’s trying to investigate a gun deal that went wrong way before I took you and your brother in. I don’t like people trying to bring up the past. So either you deal with him, or I will.”
I’m in shock. Because both she and Alek have said the same thing.
River’s obviously snooping where his nose doesn’t belong.
“I’ll deal with him. I don’t need your assistance,” I state.
She raises her eyebrows again, mockingly. “I’ve heard that before. Have you heard from Alek yet?”
I lick my lips as I reassess the old bitch. Something’s off. Whether it’s because of River or not… something is different.
“No, I haven’t,” I lie. “I’m still trying to track down the dancer after you gave me her name. You?”
“When was the last time that boy called me, even when he was in town? Tell me if he makes contact.”
“Is that all?” I ask, but she just stares and stares, that patronizing gaze unraveling my last fucking nerve. How dare she come in here and think she can so easily take over once again. Ten years later and she thinks she’s in charge because she says so. I haven’t worked my ass off to simply hand it over.
I am the Ivanov auctions.
I will bury someone for it.
“What?” I demand when she continues to stare.
“Sometimes I worry I carved you too closely to mirror me,” she muses. “Then, at other times, I realize you’re still that needy child inside. You’ve always been so reliant on Alek. It makes you weak.”
“He’s my twin,” I remind her. “And part of the reason you were able to retire in such a lavish lifestyle, so respect is due.”
“Yes, but now there is only you, dear. I suggest you remember that,” she says, a hint of warning in her tone.
“We are all each other had. I know Alek. He’ll return.”
Sitting back in the chair, she places her hands behind her head and gives me a pitying look. “If you say so.”
I want to reach for the letter opener right now and lodge it in her throat. Instead, I turn away to calm myself. She always knows how to trigger me, as if daring me to lay a finger on her. She pushes me to remind me that her word is law. Or so she thinks. “Being a woman in this business is always difficult, Anya. You should know this. How many attempts on our lives were there?” she says.
My lips curve up into a tight smile. Hers wasn’t the worst foster care home we’d gone to. But overall, she’d been the most twisted.
