Page 49 of Forced Marriage Vows

“Just give in, baby,” he urges.

And I’m about to when a concerning sizzling noise fills the room. I exhale a relieved breath as Mikhail steps back to assess the pot of pasta he’s preparing, which had just started to boil over.

“Saved by our dinner,” Mikhail says, shooting me a look that assures me we’ll continue where we left off.

“Let’s talk about something else,” I suggest, watching as he drains hot water from the pot into the sink.

“I’m listening.”

“How about you talk for once? I’m always the one speaking. Let’s hear about your life, Mr. Morozova,” I counter.

He smirks, turning to face me. “What do you want to know, Mrs. Morozova?”

A chill runs through me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having that name used with mine.

“Okay. Let’s do easy meaningless questions. What’s your favorite color?”

“I don’t have one,” he replies, which is no surprise at all. “What’s yours?”

“Green. Slytherin green.”

He looks impressed. “Harry Potter fan?”

“The biggest. I was a huge HP nerd in high school. I singlehandedly created a club for it. Granted, I was the only member, but it’s the thought that counts.”

“So… you’re a Slytherin?”

I shake my head with a grin. “Nope, Hufflepuff. You, on the other hand, are the most Slytherin person to walk this earth.”

“Guilty as charged. What else do you read?”

“I read anything, honestly. As you know, I am unemployed,” I say on a smirk. “Thanks to that, I’ve always had a lot of hobbies over the years. Although none of them ever stuck enough for me to consider it a career.”

Mikhail nods thoughtfully.

I arch an eyebrow. “You got me to talk. Again. Come on, give me something about yourself, Morozova.”

“Why do you care?”

“For one, we live together,” I point out. “Or not? I’d move back to my apartment in a heartbeat if you wanted.”

“Nice try, sweetheart,” he says on a smile. “I was actually going to tell you later. We’re moving into the mansion.”

I blink. “What mansion?”

“Your family’s home,” he clarifies. “It makes more sense for us to live there. It’s the seat of the Pakhan.”

“Oh,” I murmur, thinking that over.

I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about that. Angry? Because at the end of it, he’s doing his best to erase my father and kick him out of his position. I should probably fight it more. I shouldn’t agree with another man living in my father’s house.

But when I look at Mikhail, I know there’s not a single argument I could provide that would make him change his mind.

“Okay.”

Mikhail raises his eyebrows. “Wait, seriously? I was expecting more of a fight.”

“It’s fine. I actually like my family’s house.”

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