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Ania sipped on a glass of water and smiled at my grandfather, trying to look confident before speaking. “I, uh, couldn’t make it. We had a promotional campaign in Tokyo.”
And yes, she was a supermodel. One of the most sought after, for that matter. Another reason Nadia had cause to believe that she had more men between her legs than my grandfather.
My aunt forced down a full glass of wine to swallow the rest of her comments.
The rest of our family was out of the country, so Nadia, Grandpa, and Ania were the only ones present, and starting the dinner with snarky remarks was not the grand plan. Short, concise, and straight to the point so everyone could leave sooner was more like it.
“Well, I am glad you could make it today, Ania,” I offered to calm her nerves and reached for the bowl of food at the center of the table. “We should start eating before the food gets cold.”
“I agree,” Nadia butted in with a grin. “And maybe your wife-to-be could serve us?”
Grandpa concurred, and Freya’s head perked up.
“To serve? Why, sure.... I’ll...I’ll do that immediately.” She kept the grave expression under wraps, offered a stiff smile, and moved her chair back to start serving.
I didn’t take my eyes off her for a second. Her dark hair was up in a sleek ponytail, and her short black dress, though simple, had my thoughts tilting toward taking irrational and lust-motivated actions after dinner.
She moved with fluid ease and tried to mask her indifference with a tight-lipped smile, but I saw through the cracks—saw her burning loathing directed at me when she stopped by my plate to serve.
I flashed a wide smile intentionally to spite her. “Thank you,my love.”
Freya gave an even wider smile that didn’t reach her brown eyes and went over to her seat.
Aunt Nadia turned to her with another glass of wine swirling between her fingers. “You’re so beautiful, dear.”
Freya squirmed in her seat as she started slicing the beef on her plate. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?” Grandpa and Ania raised a brow at Nadia’s loud cackle, which was louder than the music in the background. “Don’t be silly, dear. No one calls mema’am. Makes me feel old. I was a supermodel back in my days, you know?”
I suppressed a laugh against my fork and silently munched on the stir-fried vegetables. Grandpa cleared his throat, and neither of us bothered to tell Freya that she lied.
Shockingly, my soon-to-be wife was on her best behavior tonight. She matched Nadia’s attention with an interest that only I knew was fake. “That’s interesting.”
“Yes, I know. So, call me Nadia, please. Not aunty or ma’am. Just Nadia.”
“Copy that.”
The knives grated on the plate, and my aunt picked up more conversations while the rest of us ate silently.
“So, tell me, Freya, what do you like to do in your free time?”
Freya’s eyes met mine and didn’t blink while she responded. “Oh, I read. A lot. Like there’s nothing else to do.”
No one else at the table heard the strain in her voice when she talked or noticed the tension in her shoulders when I made the smallest movement, like she was scared of me and agitated at the same time.
“Mm.” Nadia munched on a carrot with her head bobbing up and down as she took mental notes. “You love books, I presume.”
Freya sliced her beef a lot harder and tore her gaze away from mine. “Amidstothernormal things. But I guess I do love the smell of books and watching the sun rise in the mornings and set in the evenings.”
Because she’s holed up in her room all day.
“I’m a fan of some good mystery and romance novels and have a few recommendations. I’ll send them your way. In the meantime, what’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve done? I know I walked into a club, fancied the bartender, and mouthfucked him behind the counter. While he served other customers.”
“Aunty.”
“Nadia.”
“What? No one here is a saint.”
