Page 70 of Mistaken
I shrugged and she pulled the thread a little too hard. “Ack! Please don’t move, okay? I haven’t stitched a wound in three years!”
I chuckled, “I assure you; your worst will still be a better job than my best.”
Carefully tying off the thread, she looked it over before turning me to start on the exit wound. “I’m assuming this is a result of whatever had you bolting from the after-funeral gathering?”
Jaw clenched, I simply nodded.
“Is everyone okay?” Ella persisted, “What about Yuri?”
Rubbing my eyes with a thumb and forefinger, I sighed, “He’s alive, he has a minor cut on his forehead.”
“No!” She gave out a soft, overly dramatic wail, “Not his face! Yuri's face is the moneymaker! This is terrible!”
Opening my eyes, I gave her a slow, filthy smile. “Yuri's pretty face is quite definitely not the reason for his popularity with the ladies. His pearl-enhanced co-”
“Don’t! Don’t say it!” Ella gave a mortified groan. “Please don’t talk about my brother-in-law’s junk, that’s so gross! It’s bad enough that I have to hear it from-”
I watched the humor and animation drain from her lovely face as she made another precise stitch in my skin. “Tania is still not returning your calls?”
Silently shaking her head and looking terribly sad, Ella finished her needlework, cleaning and bandaging the wounds. “You need a transfusion. You’re really pale. I’m not sure you can even stand up on your own.”
Giving a sneer, I stood, but just barely. Rolling her eyes, my bride ran a warm washcloth over my chest, removing the rest of the blood and fetching some sleep pants so I could get out of the rest of my ruined suit.
Getting into bed felt so good that I let out a groan, and Ella smiled as she arranged the pillows behind me. “Clean sheets and a good mattress are the best things in life, am I right? Can you drink some water?” She handed me an antibiotic tablet and watched me drink it down with half the bottle of water.
Lying close to me, but not touching, just near enough to feel her body heat, she murmured, “Goodnight Maksim. I’m glad you’re safe.”
I wanted to say goodnight to her, but I fell asleep with the words on my lips.
Ella…
Ekaterina, Mariya, and their four (four!) bodyguards stepped out of the penthouse elevator, staring at the activity. To the untrained eye, it looked a lot like the time I knocked my brother’s ant farm off of his dresser. Bratva soldiers walked back and forth, conferring with each other in hushed whispers and Maksim’s higher-ups issuing orders on iPhones wedged to their ears. Alina tip-tapped her way down the marble hall in her five-inch heels, carrying files and coffee to his office.
“Did we arrive at an awkward time?” Mariya asked, an unholy grin on her face.
I leaned in, whispering her mother’s favorite admonition to her; “Always the troublemaker, aren’t you?” We giggled childishly while the bodyguards looked uncomfortable.
“Hello, sister,” Ekaterina said, hiding a smile, “so nice to be back.”
Hugging them both, I guided them into the warm alcove by the living room. That room was gigantic and high-ceilinged and everything echoed there. The alcove was intimate, with another little fireplace and room only for two delightfully squishy couches and a table between them. A jewel-colored Persian rug - the colors faded over time - was warm under bare feet. I hated wearing shoes in the house.
“Sit down,” I suggested, “I’ve got snacks coming.”
The bodyguards looked into the space dubiously, and Mariya fluttered her eyelashes. “No boys are allowed in our secret club, why don’t you take a moment to yourselves?”
The housekeeper for the penthouse marched in, setting down a tray filled with Cheetos, home made corn chips and a thick, chunky salsa from Los Tacos No. !, and banana pudding and doughnuts from Magnolia Bakery.
Ekaterina clapped her hands, bouncing with excitement. “You remembered all of our favorite treats?”
“A girl’s gotta relax,” I said, grabbing a doughnut with lavender frosting, “no stress about calories either, hear me?” I point a stern finger at both of them, “You’re on vacation.” I’d seen how calorie-restrictive their diets were at home, even though they were both very slim. And based on their brother’s physiques, it’s not like their family had trouble with keeping their weight down.
There was a serious amount of damage done to the snacks before the housekeeper, Ludmilla, returned with drinks, a look of pinched disapproval on her square face. Of course, she always reeked of disapproval when she looked at me. It made me almost miss Megumi back at the hunting lodge.
“Things seem very unsettled,” ventured Ekaterina. Mariya paused chewing, her banana pudding, still wedged in her cheeks like she was a chipmunk storing it up for winter.
I smiled, trying not to look too bitter. “As a wife, you know I’m not privy to this kind of information.”
Mariya’s brow furrowed. “Privy?”
