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“What are you talking about?”
“According to Harry, Stacy stormed into his room one day and told him in no uncertain terms that if he ever went near you that she’d cut his cock off.“ Lucien’s words make my heart lurch.
“Wait!” I give my head a small shake. “Stacy told Harry I had a crush on him?”
“I’m afraid so.” Lucien nods. “And she wasn’t very happy about sharing you.”
“Bullshit.” I stare at him in disbelief. “Stacy would never be like that.”
“How many other friends did you have?” Lucien asks. “And don’t tell me it’s because your father isolated you.”
“It was because of that,” I defend my friendship with Stacy. “To be honest though…” I stop myself from saying what was on my mind and change the subject as I realize what Lucien is hinting out is not as far-fetched as I want it to be. “Are you sure you didn’t drug my water?”
“Oh, for fuck sake.” Lucien grabs the bottle and finishes the water. “No drugs!”
“Now I have no water either!”
“Harry!” Lucien barks. “I know you’re at the door. Please bring Isabella some water and something to eat.” He looks at me. “What would you like?”
“Are we at a hotel?”
“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re at your brother’s new home—or at least it will be his new home in the not-so-distant future.”
“Do all you Bratva people talk like that!”
“Like what?”
“In clipped sentences, never revealing too much, and talking around things?”
“I guess we do,” Lucien admits. “Comes with always assessing who we’re talking to.”
“Uh…” Harry’s voice comes from the office door. “What will you have, Isabella?”
“Ginger tea and cookies.” I turn and glare at him over the back of the sofa.
“How about some food?” Harry asks.
“I’ll have the tea first.”
“Sure.” Harry nods and leaves the room.
“Do you treat all your boyfriends like shit?” I look at Lucien.
“I don’t understand?” Lucien’s brows knit. “I treat Harry very well. I actually saved his life and removed him from a bad situation.”
“And now you treat him like a servant,” I point out.
“We all have our place, Isabella,” Lucien tells me. “There’s a hierarchy to our world.”
“So what I’m hearing is that the Bratva is stuck in the dark ages and the master-slave dynamic.” I suck in a breath, trying to stem the disgust I have for that kind of dynamic. “The Bratva’s strict hierarchies and outdated rules are archaic and oppressive.”
“I can see how you’d think that,” Lucien tells me. “You grew up in a very strict household where your father was both trying to protect you, keep your purity, and still give you a taste of living in what you call the ‘normal’ world.”
“Are you mocking me?”
“No, cousin. I’m simply pointing out that even though you were raised with the illusion of freedom and normalcy, your father still exercised tight control over your life. The dynamics you experienced, though different, were still a form of hierarchy—just one you might not have recognized as such.”
Chapter 25
