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I choked on my wine and nearly spit it out. I didn’t disagree, because Neeve had an almost unnatural, ethereal beauty.
Bright green eyes, tiny freckles that lined her sharp cheekbones, and deep crimson hair with a near-perfect natural wave. She didn’t even have to style it for it to look flawless, and she looked like Nicole Kidman in the movie The Moulin Rouge.
“Svetlana, that wasn’t very nice,” Severin said sternly. “We do not compare women’s looks.”
Mikhail chuckled under his breath. “And if you are going to compare, then you have to be willing to be a part of the conversation. How would you like it if I said Keira was prettier than you?”
“Which, of course, isn’t true,” I cut in. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally wound a child’s self-confidence.
“You wouldn’t like it, would you?” Mikhail continued, ignoring my comment. “Besides, all three of the ladies at this table are spectacularly beautiful. The comparison would be like comparing a crown to a tiara.”
Svetlana huffed and crossed her arms.
“But it isn’t Keira’s looks that define her. She is one of the smartest women on this continent, if not the world. AND she happens to be gorgeous too.” Mikhail emphasized the word “and.”
Warmth climbed up my cheeks. “Thank you.”
And suddenly I was bashful, looking away like a schoolgirl.
What the fuck was happening to me?
I turned back to my plate, and the rest of the table must have done the same, because all I heard was the sound of dinner continuing—forks scraping against porcelain and soft chewing sounds.
The staff brought out the main course, filling the room with the aroma of juicy steak and garlic-cream potatoes.
I was three bites into my steak when the kid launched her next attack.
“I like Neeve better, and I would rather live with her. So, Severin, if this is one of those mafia marriages, I think you should switch out the brides.”
Was this child eight or twenty?
Neeve choked on her meat and turned to me.
“Svetlana,” Severin said coldly. “My marriage is none of your concern.”
“But it is. I have to live with her too. You’re bringing her into my house and my life.”
Severin opened his mouth, then closed it again. The spawn was technically correct, though, because I was being brought into her world and her life.
This was a massive change for her. She didn’t have a mother, and now, all of a sudden, she was getting a stepmother, whether she wanted one or not.
She was stuck with whatever choices the adults made, and that had to suck… especially as an eight-year-old, and especially because her dislike of me was warranted.
I was here to destroy her family.
Severin sucked in a long, slow breath and took a large gulp of whiskey. Oh, he was regretting his choice to invite me to family dinner.
My chest lit up with a sick kind of joy.
“This is a lot of change very quickly, Rory, and I understand that it is hard for you and Keira,” he said.
Svetlana scoffed. “Who cares about her?”
“We all do,” Mikhail said softly.
“Would you rather marry Neeve?” Svetlana asked Severin.
Once again, he was speechless. His mouth opened, but the silence stretched far too long. Which was utterly frustrating because I desperately wanted to hear the answer.
