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Mandy tapped her foot and cocked a brow.
Ah, right. The girl was expecting a drink. Elena had to dig deep to find the energy to form a smile. Like toe-deep, from the tips-of-her fingers, roots-of-her-hair deep.
She went into the kitchen and grabbed the first drink she saw. It was an energy drink Viking had stocked. Beautiful. She shook the can a bit, okay more than a bit, and returned to Mandy.
She was still standing in the foyer, her eyes watching Loki carefully.
Elena shook the can one more time for good measure, then she opened it and sprayed it all over the blonde.
Another screech followed as Mandy got doused in the Monster energy drink.
“What are you doing!—”
Oh no, she didn’t get to ask her that. Grabbing the girl’s arm, she pushed her toward the door. Then she opened it and kicked her outside.
Mandy almost fell off the stairs on her way out. Baran stood near the private elevator, in the middle of a phone call. A smirk clung to his lips. Bastard. He knew exactly what Mandy had come to do, and could’ve stopped her.
Elena flipped him off and slammed the door shut.
Was it fair she’d taken out her anger on Mandy? Probably not. Did she care? Not one bit.
With the house and her four-footed friend to herself again, she cleaned up the mess in the foyer, and then dropped onto the couch. An hour passed and she was still mulling over the happenings of the afternoon. The simmering rage inside her mind was warring with her rational side that up until an hour ago had decided the best course of action for her to survive this marriage was to go with the flow. Except, that girl had seemed like the first wave of a tide that would drown her if she didn’t put a stop to it.
It was time to make a stand. She owed it to herself, as a role model for her daughter, and to every other woman on this planet who ever got cheated on.
Viking might have the right to be angry with her. He might even want to punish her, lock her up, and deprive her of food, but he did not get to marry her, say his vows, and go off on his merry way to hook up with another woman. Hell to the no. Worse, he expected her to sit at home, playing the obedient wife. Ha!
It was as if the universe agreed with her because an hour later, Katya stood on her doorstep. Behind her, Elena could see Yuri standing by the elevator.
“I got you clothes,” Katya said.
Elena let her in and looked surprised at the shopping bags Katya was holding up.
“My clothes?” She remembered all too well she didn’t have any on her back when she’d arrived at Casa Romanov. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the guy called Artist who had given her his jacket, she would have remained buck naked.
“I needed to get out of the house,” Katya declared, and sprawled onto the comfy couch in front of the TV.
“So you went on a shopping spree for me?”
Katya’s smile wavered. “I needed to do something useful to get out of my head. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before.”
She couldn’t help but think of the times she had comforted Vicky after her girl had gone through a rough patch. And in the Morelli mansion, there had been many.
“Hold on to that thought. I’m gonna make you hot cocoa first.”
“With mini marshmallows?” She sounded hopeful.
“Of course,” Elena said with a duh tone. After making the drinks, she took a seat next to Katya.
Then out of the blue, Katya said, “I think he’s going to marry her and send me away.” The poor girl sounded desolate.
Elena didn’t need to ask about the ‘he.’ It had only taken her a sec to see how Katya felt about Kristoff when they were in the same room. The girl was a goner, bad. The notorious Bratva leader, on the other hand, had been the opposite. Elena couldn’t tell if he was mad, happy, smitten, or totally void of any feelings whatsoever. He had his shields firmly up.
“I’m so sorry to hear that.”
A frown followed. “You know, I was both happy for you and angry with you, when Viking married you.”
Aha. “This, you have to explain.”
