Page 187 of Ruthless Sin
The door is open.
I walk in.
The dining room. The chandelier above the table throwing dirty light across the walls. The shipping maps weighted at the corners. The satellite phone face-down. Two of Marco’s men at the corners of the room, still as furniture.
Nico near the head of the table. Alexei in the chair, restrained, alive, silk robe over a white shirt and pants. He hears me cross the threshold and looks up and his mouth goes loose for a breath and his eyes find mine before his jaw sets again.
He did not think I would be standing.
I do not look at Nico.
I walk across the room the way Papa taught me when I was small, spine straight, shoulders set, the cross in my closed left fist and the chain at my throat under the dark shirt, and I stop close enough to be heard and far enough to be mine.
Alexei’s face is older than I remember. Gray at the temples. The mouth slack at the corners. He is smaller than he was when I was a girl sitting at his table. Good. Let him be small.
The cleanest, calmest Russian I have ever spoken. Papa’s register. I have been waiting years to use it.
“Eto za Yelenu.” This is for Yelena.
Alexei’s face does not change.
“Za Mamu.” For Mama.
His mouth opens.
“Milochka—”
“Ne nazyvay menya tak. Ona menya tak nazyvala. Ty ne imeesh’ prava.” Do not call me that. She called me that. You do not have the right.
His mouth closes.
“Za Papu.” For Papa.
His eyes shift. One fraction. Then flat again.
“Za kazhduyu devushku, kotoruyu ty prodal.” For every girl you sold.
I do not look away. I let him see every year of what he made.
He looks at me for a long moment. Then he speaks in English. The language of the room he thinks he owns.
“I sold you for reasons.” The same register as my childhood dinner table, the one that never raised itself. “I sold you to break your mother. To remove an heir who would one day stand exactly where you are standing. To show her what the price of dreaming looked like.” He tilts his head. The restraints pull at his wrists and he does not look at them. “I needed her to understand that nothing she loved was beyond my reach. You were the proof of that.” A pause. “Your father understood. That’s why he died so quietly.”
All of it. Every word.
I do not move. I do not speak. The silence between us has weight and I hold it and I do not look away until his eyes drop first.
His jaw tightens then his eyes drop.
I speak. English. His language. In this room, in this moment, mine.
“Papa built what you took. I am taking it back.” I hold his eyes. “And the man who stands beside me will help me do it.”
His gaze goes to Nico. To the hand at my back. His mouth tightens.
He opens his mouth.
Nico is already moving.
