Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
My heart aches.
I look down at my plate, the little appetite I had gone.
Ophelia looked after Stefan today and checked in on the bakery. Galina, our only employee and my mother’s best friend, sells our wares with gusto but doesn’t know how to bake the way I do. She can hold down the business for a day, but I’ll have to come up with a plan to get back.
“I need to work,” I say. “I can’t just sit around looking pretty.”
Semyon shrugs. “You can sit around looking petulant. It’s worked for you so far.”
“Oh fuck off,” I snap before I can stop myself. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Someone on his staff behind us gasps, and the cold flicker in his eyes tells me I’ve crossed a line.
“Excuse me?”
I open my mouth to respond but don’t know what to say. “I-I didn’t mean that.”
“Did you already forget our conversation outside?”
My cheeks color, and I look away.
“Look at me.”
My eyes fly to his, cold and merciless behind his glasses. I stifle the need to squirm under the heat of his glare.
“I told you if you behaved like a child, I would treat you like one. How might you punish a child who was disrespectful?” He leans forward before taking a sip from his drink. “I’ll tell you what Rafail would’ve done. What he did do. You know all about Rafail becoming guardian to us, don’t you?”
I nod uncomfortably. “Yes.”
“And do you know how he would’ve responded if any of us disobeyed or disrespected him?”
I swallow hard and shake my head. “No,” I say, shifting in my seat. There’s a prickling awareness in the room now, an invisible weight pressing down as Semyon watches me with his ice-cold eyes.
He leans back in his chair, yet every movement seems calculated. It feels strange looking at him now, like visiting a ghost that’s come to haunt you because I still see him, still hear him, still imagine the boy who was strong and powerful, the one who feared nothing. And in front of me now is a monster. A stranger.
“Rafail believed in swift, memorable lessons. Humiliation. He never yelled. Never raised his voice.”
“Sounds lovely,” I mutter.
“Sounds effective,” he counters.
I look away. “So that’s what you have planned for me? If I don’t behave, you’ll have ‘swift, memorable’ lessons?”
Semyon shakes his head, cuts a large bite of chicken, and chews it methodically before answering me. “Not at all. I plan on taking my time and enjoying it thoroughly.”
Gah.
“Enjoying punishing someone?” I shake my head.
Semyon shrugs. I’m fixated on his large, inked hands tearing the bread in half. “If it’s done right,” he says with a note of something dark and wicked in his voice. “You might enjoy it too.”
I stare at him, my mouth agape, but I can’t help the way my body responds. I don’t like it. I hate him.
I look away.
“Even if you devise whatever punishment you think I deserve,” I begin. My voice wavers no matter how hard I try to keep a lid on my temper. I look away from him. It feels like he’s made a move on the board and put mine in jeopardy. “You won’t win, Semyon. You’ll only make me hate you more.”
He sips his drink before he replies. “Hate me all you want. But your family is alive because of this.”
Despite my anger, I can’t help but recognize the truth in his words. I can’t help but be confused by his motives.
I shake my head. “I don’t understand. I have nothing to offer you.”
His cold, hard eyes drag down the length of my simple dress before he meets my eyes again. “I need a wife.”
I shake my head. “You could’ve had your pick of anyone in Zalivka. You’re wealthy and attractive. Why me?”
For the first time, he looks almost perplexed. “Isn’t it obvious?”
I blink in surprise and shove a crust of bread in my mouth. I shake my head.
“I didn’t want anyone. I didn’t want a wife who would use my family or my wealth for her own gain. I didn’t want some pretty little thing taking selfies by my pool with her manicured nails and flaunting them or someone who’d go behind my back and seek the affection of someone who’d give it to her when I knew full well I couldn’t.”
I feel as if he’s doused me in ice water. I stare. He goes on.
“I wanted a wife dependent on me. I wanted a wife who had no choice but to be faithful because the price of infidelity cost her too much.” He took another sip of wine. “I wanted a wife who wasn’t seeking love or affection or anything else I couldn’t give but was desperate enough to take what I could give her, so there was no backing out.”