Page 111 of Ivory Ashes

“Your—” He drags a hand down his face. “After growing up with Anatoly and seeing what happened to him?—”

“What you let happen to him,” I correct. “You could have stopped it.”

He ignores me. “After all of that, you still fathered an illegitimate child.”

“He is hardly illegitimate if we’re married.”

The information sits between us for a few silent seconds. My father stares at me like the disappointment I’ve always been to him.

The second child who talked back. The spare who never quite knew his place. The son who favored his bastard brother and overthrew the eldest.

I’ve never made him proud.

It’s never felt quite so good.

“Helen and her father will wage war over this,” he warns. “Are you ready to fight for your whore?”

I rise to my full height, looming over my father’s hunched form. “I’ll kill anyone who threatens my family. Anyone who insults them. Including you.”

There’s a lot more he wants to say, but he’s wise enough to keep his mouth shut. He knows without me saying it that he has no power here. Not anymore.

I was prepared to kill him six years ago. He knows I’d do it now in a heartbeat.

Finally, he sighs. “When are you going to announce Dante as your heir? If you’re ending your engagement to Helen, people will want to know why. An heir is a good excuse. If you don’t do it soon, people will question his legitimacy.”

If I don’t announce him soon enough, they’ll question his birthright. If I announce him too soon, they’ll kill him before he can inherit.

There is no winning.

I understand more and more why Viviana wanted to avoid all of this. Life would be easier without all of the politics.

“I would never let anyone question the legitimacy of my child,” I growl. “I would never let them disrespect my own flesh and blood the way you let people disrespect Anatoly. That was a choice you made, and I don’t intend to make the same one.”

Before my father can say anything, someone clears their throat in the doorway.

When I turn, I see Anatoly is staring at me, ignoring our father entirely. I know he heard what I said. But there is more important shit going on than his tender feelings right now.

“You should probably come back to the dining room,” he mumbles. “Things are, um… heating up.”

I can only imagine. “How long after we left before Viviana told Helen the news?” I ask.

Anatoly bites back a laugh. “Thirty seconds. She flashed her wedding ring and Helen spit wine across the table.”

This isn’t how I imagined breaking the news to either of them, but it is more efficient. Two birds, one stone.

“Handle it, Anatoly! We’re busy,” our father snaps. “They’re two women, for fuck’s sake. I’d hope you can keep them in line.”

“Shows how much you know about Viviana.” Anatoly smirks.

My father spins towards me, eyes wide in his patented mix of shock, disgust, and disbelief. “Viviana Giordano? I fucking knew I recognized her. First, you took Trofim’s job—now, his wife?”

“She was never his wife,” I snarl. “She never belonged to him, even when they were engaged. She’s mine.”

He scrapes a hand down his softening jaw, laughing even though none of this is funny. “Fine. She’s yours. But so is this shitstorm. I’m not responsible for the chaos headed our way—you are.”

My father storms out and I make no attempt to stop him. He has never done a thing for me. Why start now?

Anatoly leans in. “I wasn’t kidding about getting to the dining room. The two of them might have already killed each other while I was gone.”

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