Page 55 of Twisted Cage

“With my money,” Nikolaj growls, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

And there it is, the pulsing vein, just like our father. Nikolaj won’t appreciate the observation for good reason.

From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Konstantin, alert and ready to step in.

“I didn’t ask for either of you to butt in. There were plenty of other buyers.”

I don’t need to see Konstantin’s glare. It takes on a life of its own, tracing over me, promising retribution.

Good, I welcome the chance to make him bleed again.

Agitation rolls off him as he snags his suit jacket off the couch and shrugs it on. “I have to go out. I won’t be long.” His gaze locks on Nikolaj, but I don’t miss the oddly dignified smirk on his face. “You’re on babysitting duty.”

He ends the words with a smug smile. I want to punch it right off his square jaw.

Keep stacking up the transgressions, asshole.

I shoot daggers at his retreating back, Grigori slipping out just behind him. When the door clicks shut and the lock engages, I turn my gaze back to my brother.

“That was chilly,” he says, his brow furrowed, a questioning glance aimed at the door.

“You want me to be polite? Fine, but you two first.” My water becomes my lifeline as I suck down a third of it. Maybe if I keep my mouth full, I won’t say something that will come back later to bite me in the ass.

He tilts his head and cups his hand around the back of his neck, kneading the tension there. His hard eyes soften as his gaze travels over my face. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“No, you came here to control me. You just didn’t expect me to fight you.” I can practically see him cataloging the changes in me over the past year. Konstantin sees my changes through the eyes of lust. His men, if they note my changes, are wise enough to keep their mouths shut and their faces impassive. Time will tell. I wasn’t exactly focused on them when they charged into the commune.

But Nikolaj, it is as if he’s found two sets of puzzle pieces scrambled in one bag. The pieces of each, similar enough to make it all but impossible to separate them into two piles, but he tries anyway.

“What happened to you?” he asks quietly, a thread of worry creeping into his voice.

“This family happened to me.” I turn to the windows where rain falls at a slant, fat drops spattering the glass, obscuring a whole different world out there, just beyond my reach.

Clear walls give me an unobstructed view, but they are walls just the same.

“This family happened to all of us, Lettie.”

He will not minimize this to just something we go through being Romanoffs. “It’s always different for the vagina.” None of them have any idea what it is like to be a commodity. Even our mother never had to suffer this. She had choices. Two men wanted her, loved her, and she got to choose.

“Don’t make this about gender.”

“I didn’t.” I fight the urge to cross my arms. I have his attention. If I look like I am on the defensive, he’ll dismiss this as nothing more than childish acting out.

I need him to hear me. To see me. I may be back in my cage, but I’ve made the choice. My cage is no longer a cell.

They’ll never find comfort in my confinement again. They’ll learn to never turn their back on me.

If they try to make my cage a prison, I’ll drag every single one of them into that prison with me.

“Our family made this about gender generations ago. Our grandparents, parents, and now you. You just don’t like that I’m not conforming to it.”

Nikolaj all but deflates before dropping back down on the sofa. “Jesus, if I didn’t know better, I’d say some guy did a number on you.”

“Not just one.” But it is just the one who delivered the final blow.

“We can’t escape our legacy, Lettie.”

“You don’t think I know that? I know it better than all of you. I’m the bargaining chip. I know about being trapped better than any of you.”

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