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I suppress images of bashing Ravil’s skull against the floor until the blue carpet turns red with his blood. When my eyes open again, he’s still there, bristling with pride and envy and the bitter sting of coming up short.
“I’ll offer my deal one more time,” I retort. “Get out of my house without saying another word, or I’ll—”
Before I can finish my sentence however, the door flies open…
And June runs in.
Her face is flushed, her breathing short, and her eyes pulled tight at the corners with determination. Milana darts in behind June and attempts to drag her back out, but June bats her away with a hiss.
“No!” she screams. “I’m not going anywhere until someone here starts explaining what the fuck is going on!”
I throw Milana a glare so dark that she folds under its weight and looks down at her feet. Ravil, on the other hand, looks like Christmas has come early.
He fixes June with a smile stolen right off Hades’s lips. “Hello, dear June. It’s about time we were properly introduced.”
13
JUNE
That smile.
I didn’t know what it meant for my skin to crawl until this moment. Until his dark, misty eyes land on me and his lips pull back to reveal a set of teeth that are too yellow and too jagged to be human.
The structure of his face has shades of Kolya’s, but rotten, broken, hollowed-out, malnourished. “My name is Ravil,” the man croons. “Ravil Uvarov.” His tongue darts out to moisten those thin, chapped lips. “You’re even lovelier in person, June Cole. Pregnancy becomes you.”
My hand falls instinctively to my stomach and my eyes dart to Kolya. I rushed in here with resolve, but now that I’m here, I’m rethinking my impetuousness. I can feel Milana at my back, waiting to pull me out of the room the moment Kolya orders her to.
But he doesn’t. He just sits there, watching me with that unknowable expression on his face.
There are only two things giving me some small measure of comfort at this moment. One is the fresh scent of vanilla in the air. The second is the piano in the corner.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Ravil glances at Kolya with a smile that threatens to make my first trimester nausea resurface. “Tut-tut, Kolya. You should really show her our family tree.” He turns his gaze back on me. “I’m Kolya’s cousin. Which makes us family.”
There it is again—my skin crawling like it’s begging me to leave this godforsaken room. Even the air tastes sour and filthy.
“Please sit, June,” Ravil encourages, his voice twisting with an oozing charm that I don’t trust for a second. “Would you like something to drink?”
It’s strange how comfortable he is playing host in Kolya’s house. It’s almost as if Kolya isn’t sitting right there, glowering at him.
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out uncertain and croaky. “I’m fine standing.”
He gets up, and I instinctively take a step back. Neither Kolya nor Milana make any effort to intercept him as Ravil walks to me and offers me his hand. “No need to be shy. We’re all family here, remember?”
I swallow hard, but I let him lead me to the sofa. He smells of black pepper and cloves and his skin feels rough and calloused against mine.
I sit down and he settles down right beside me, much too close for comfort. I look up and catch Kolya’s gaze. His expression is less impassive now. There’s tension in his eyes and displeasure in the downward tilt of his mouth, but there’s also a glimmer of cruel satisfaction.
He’s not about to jump in and help me. He’s trying to teach me a lesson.You wanted to be a part of this? Well, this is what you get.
It reminds me of Adrian. The way he felt the need to “teach me lessons.” The slap the night he died was just the grandest and most grotesque in a long line of behavior modifications. Sit up, sit down, say something, say nothing—there was no telling which way the wind blew with him. It was like living with a hurricane.
“You can’t be that far along,” Ravil murmurs, eyes fixed creepily on my abdomen. “You’re not even showing.”
“I’ve barely finished my first trimester.”
“I doubt you’ll get very big,” he says.
