Page 83 of Pas de Trois
Murphy rubs his hand over his beard. “Well, fuck. This is going to end disastrously if I send you back home with her now.”
I watch Anya’s chest fall as she lets out a slow breath and though she tries to keep her tone even and her words steady, they come out hurried and insistently. “Let us stay here…under the care of the O’Sheas. I no longer feel safe with the Vittoris. If she puts Ezra’s life at risk, the stress it causes me could be detrimental to the health of my baby. The four families can’t afford to lose my child. Give me and Ezra shelter here and send the Vittoris home tonight. The safety of the Mikhailov heir has been threatened.”
“I’ve made no such threat to your child’s safety!” Renata charges forward, but Anya lifts her gun higher, with more confidence. “You’re the one pointing a gun!”
“A gun you meant to have Ezra killed with! A gun Lorenzo nearly shot me in the stomach with because of your lies!”
“Ladies,” Murphy interjects, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I’m not in the mood for this bullshit.”
“Please, Murphy,” Anya pleads gently. “I’ve been through enough. You wouldn’t put Stella through what I’ve been through. Don’t put me through more.”
Murphy looks up, his eyes falling on the back of Anya’s head. His face looks somehow kinder, but there’s also a look of confusion, as if he’s just figured something out that shouldn’t make sense. “If I say yes, will you put the gun down?”
“If you say yes and arrange for Renata and Lorenzo to leave tonight, then I will put the gun down.”
Renata points her finger in Murphy’s direction. “I approved your bride as a favor, Murphy. Stella was never fit to be one of us, but I gave my approval because you asked me for it. You owe me.” She turns her finger to me. “Kill Ezra and do it now.”
I feel the shift in his energy from calm negotiator to all-powerful king. “I owe you nothing. We both know that giving you women first approval rights on brides is just a social nicety.” He chuckles darkly. “Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t have married her if you’d said no?”
Renata seethes, fury rippling from her in waves.
“This has gotten out of hand,” Lorenzo finally says. “We’ll leave now, but I want my gun back.”
“Anya,” Murphy starts, “give him his gun and go back to your room.”
She shakes her head. “I’m not giving anyone this gun until my talent slave is away from here and his safety is assured.”
“Christ.” Murphy sighs. “Call your pilot to be ready for departure within the hour. I’ll bring your gun when I have them settled.” He shakes his head. “You Vittoris cause so much fucking drama.”
Shock and rage clamber for control of Renata’s features as I feel the burden of fear slowly lift from my shoulders.
Anya slowly, gradually lowers the gun, but she refuses to give it up.
