Page 85 of Crowned

“I love mybabulya,” Lilia points out.

I smile against her stroking fingers. “Ah, yes. Your devious grandmother who taught her granddaughter all her tricks and made her into a slippery little devil.”

“That’s mybabulya,” Lilia says proudly. “Did you know your grandmother?”

“My family that is still alive are all in Russia, and half of them would kill me if they laid eyes on me. The other half are indifferent to my existence.”

“Why is that?” she asks, her voice low and gentle.

She’s prying into things I have never told anybody and don’t fucking talk about. Kirill and Elyah know, but they were there, and I didn’t have to speak the words. Or not many of them, anyway.

“Tell me how you feel today,” I ask, changing the subject. “Have you noticed the baby move? I think I can feel them now.” A little knee or foot is pressing against my cheek through Lilia’s belly.

But she won’t be sidetracked.

“I know so little about you.” Her fingers trail across my suddenly tense neck and shoulders. “You get all clenched up when I mention the past. Are you worried about something?”

“It’s not worry. It’s bad memories.”

Her hand sweeps across my brow. “Is it bad memories that give you these migraines?”

“A bullet that tore across my skull is what has given me these migraines.”

She massages the pressure point between my brows, and the pain in my head slowly eases.

“I never told you what I did with your money. The money I got from the sale of your diamonds,” she murmurs.

“How much did you get, by the way?”

“You won’t like it if I tell you. I’ll make your headache worse.” Amusement lightens her voice.

“Tell me anyway.”

“Six million.”

I groan. “Fucking hell.”

“I was in a hurry. There were mad Russians on my tail.”

It’s not nearly as much as she should have gotten for the diamonds, but as she says, she wasn’t in a position to drive a hard bargain. The fact that she managed to sell stolen pink diamonds at all while in hiding is astonishing. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Hide from you, apparently.”

I reach up and caress the nape of her neck. “I’m glad you have this one weakness. Never lose it.”

Lilia laughs. “While you’re in such a good mood, shall I tell you what I’ve been doing with your money?” She decides for me. “I’ll tell you.”

She describes how she’s been tracking down the women from the pageant, obtaining their email addresses and then sending them one-sixteenth of six million dollars.

“It’s their money, not mine or yours. They deserve it after everything you put them through.”

I don’t know about that, but I keep my mouth closed. Barely any of them lifted a finger to help Lilia orchestrate their successful escape. Some of them were firmly against her. If I were Lilia, I’d feel no compulsion to give them anything, though we established some time ago that my conscience is pointed in a different direction than Lilia’s.

Lilia sighs. “The thing is, I haven’t been very successful, and I’ve stopped searching during the past months. I’ve barely found any of the women and sent them their money.” Disappointment colors her voice.

The six million split up is less than four hundred thousand dollars each. It’s not much money. It’s barely anything, really. I wonder why she’s beating herself up about it when it can’t make that much difference in their lives.

Or maybe it would. My family was always wealthy. Poisonous, but wealthy.

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