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“She’s from a respectable family. Her grandfather and I used to hunt together—”
“Grandpa….”
“She’s quiet, reserved. You like them quiet, don’t you? Probably wouldn’t make a noise when you fuck her.”
“Christ.Grandpa!”
“What? Thanks to Anatoly's daily supply, I know you’ve got women trooping in and out of your houses. But you haven’t married any one of them, so don’t even bother trying to shut me up, Egor. It’s not going to work. I’ve given you time. We’re passed that stage of fucking denial. You’re what, forty?” He paused. “No, I got that wrong. Egor, you’re forty-one. Forty-oneandunmarried.”
And that was the calm before the storm—the announcement that always managed to detonate the bomb. He wouldn’t fucking drop it. It was always the same thing. It hadn’t changed since the day I clocked thirty-seven. And he wouldn’t give up. In the last three years, I’d had three different womenshoved in my face, all with the tags of “prospective wives.” My patience had slacked off after the second one.
“What do you want me to do? Shave my balls? Go bald? Why don’t you understand how fucking important it is for you to start a family? Now, I’m not talking about falling in love and all that shit civilians do. I mean, establishing rank inoursociety. Stop trying to play the fool when you know how these things work in our tradition. At forty, you should have already tied the knot. You’re up there,Korol.You have the rest of the men looking up to you. What thefuckare they going to learn if you keep this up?”
When I didn’t say anything, he picked it as a cue to continue.
“Or am I missing something? Do you have another girl in mind?”
Surprisingly, despite the internal protest going on, my brain stopped to think about it.
The only girl that popped up was, in fact, the prisoner I held locked up in her room.
Detective Freya Fox.
But when I thought about her, I only saw a woman whose life’s mission was to jeopardize me and my family—a woman I desired to break.
Marriage was not on the list. The idea of it alone was absurd.
I peeled off my jacket with one hand and strutted over to the center of the room. “I’ll call you later. The line’s breaking.”
He started to protest. “Egor, don’t you dare cut this call on—”
I clicked the dial tone, and the call ended with a dull hum.
At the corner of the room, my six-foot-five bodyguard and right-hand man, Anatoly, sat on one of the couches with his head buried in a newspaper, his tattooed fingers curled around theedges. It had been years since I’d stopped trying to understand why he preferred reading the hardcopy to the digital.
I walked by, and he acknowledged me with a silent nod.
Arlo dropped the suitcase and turned around to leave while Anna walked up to me with a full glass of what I assumed to be water. I lifted the glass from the tray and sipped. It sizzled on my tongue and left a cool, refreshing feeling behind. Whatever it was, it was good and just what I needed to erase the conversation with my grandfather from my memory, though temporarily.
I peered up at her from the rim of the glass, and she smiled.
“Let me guess, one of your many special recipes that you’re never going to share with anyone.”
Her cheeks turned rosy, and, rather shyly, she ducked her head to shield the stain. From my position, I sighted the graying strands in her dull blonde hair, looking like a natural shade of white instead of aging gray. She was only thirty-five and had been serving me before she got married at twenty-one. But she looked older than Arlo, who could have passed as an older brother.
She wiped her hands on her skirt and spoke her best English. “Thegirl made therequest. She says she wants to see you,Korol.”
As soon as Anna mentioned her, my lips pulled up even further in a smile. I was pleased to know that my prisoner missed me. And her audacity only fascinated me more. The bossy queen thought she was in a position to make requests.
I signaled Anna with a finger. “It’s fine. You can bring her out.”
She nodded, shied away, and went over to Anatoly, drawing his attention with a tap on his shoulder. I watched as hefolded the newspaper and fixed himself behind Anna to fetch the prisoner, standing guard in any case she developed tricks.
When they emerged, I occupied one of the couches and waved my hand dismissively.
“You may leave us,” I commanded, my voice firm but measured.
Anna curtsied and retreated, taking my jacket and suitcase with her before she disappeared around the corner, but Anatoly’s eyes didn’t leave mine until the heavy doors closed behind them.
