Page 27 of Queen of Spades

“So father, can we-” Anders started, and Gregori cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“Grace, how did you end up with these boys, exactly?” he asked me, shutting the others out completely. I swallowed my bite of salad, glancing quickly at Erik.

“I was… uncomfortable staying in my home after my father passed.” It was only a half-lie, but the kidnapping felt like poor dinner conversation.

“I see. So they took you in out of the goodness of their hearts, did they?” he mused. “A defector, switching sides. The King family must have a hidden appeal for all the misfits they manage to collect.” My appetite shriveled under his penetrating gaze, and I wished he would focus on someone else.

“Erik, I heard your father passed,” he announced abruptly, setting down his fork. His plate was whisked awayimmediately, and a glass of red wine was placed in front of him. Someone removed my plate as well, even though my salad was still left uneaten. Apparently in this house, once Gregori finished something, we were all finished. Soon, a small plate of cooked salmon, some sort of grain, and fragrant green vegetables were set down in front of us, as well as a glass of the same red wine.

“You aren’t trying to conceive, are you?” Gregori asked me suddenly, and I nearly choked on a piece of broccoli, my face heating up as I stifled a cough.

“N-no, sir,” I stammered, unable to look at anyone else at the table.

“Father, you cannot assume every woman in her late twenties is trying to have a child,” Anders snapped, and Gregori laughed, taking a sip of his wine.

“She’s a young woman, living rent-free with three very affluent men. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that she would be trying to secure her position amongst you.” My jaw dropped open, and I stared at the man next to me, who had just insinuated I would try to trap one of them with a baby.

“She works for me,” Erik explained coolly, his food untouched on his plate. “Her abilities are quite useful.”

“Ah? I see. But now with those gone, what value do you present to my son and his… colleagues?” Gregori asked me, and if I could have evaporated into the floor, I would have.

“Dad!” Anders shouted, slamming his hands on the table hard enough to shake the plate in front of me. His father cocked an eyebrow at the outburst, his cold eyes calculating every reaction at the table.

“I guess that remains to be seen,” he mused, and reached out, clasping my hand on top of the table. “Don’t worry,darling, I have a few ideas on what could fix that little problem of yours.”

Gregori finished his meal, while the rest of us only picked at our food. Once the food was cleared, he snapped his fingers, and the stout older man appeared at his side.

“Prepare guest rooms for my son and his associates. They will be staying overnight. And send for Dr. Presley. I would like a professional to look at the damage to my son’s shoulder in the morning.” The man nodded and disappeared, and Gregori rose swiftly, his chair scraping against the hardwood.

“Grace, accompany me to the study, I would like to explore those ideas presently.” The request was really an order, and I glanced wide-eyed at the others, panic swelling in my chest.

“I’ll join you,” Anders announced, and Gregori smirked as if this amused him. We left Jesse and Erik in the dining room, Gregori’s hand on my arm as he led me down a long hallway, stopping in front of one door in particular and pushing it open. Inside was a library that would make any scholar weep—walls of books, with a solitary desk on the far side of the room. He guided me to a plush loveseat beside the window and sat me down, Anders taking a seat beside me, not waiting for his father’s guidance. Gregori walked to his desk and pressed a small button.

“Hot water, one cup,” he ordered, and then busied himself at a tray that appeared to host a variety of expensive liquors,as well as a small black tin.

Moments later, another server appeared with a teapot and a solitary tea cup on it. He set it on the desk wordlessly and left, closing the door behind him. Being closed in this room felt like I was being trapped, and my chest seized. Gregori walked back to us, thrusting a glass of amber liquor toward Anders, who grimaced but took it. The metal tin he brought back to his desk, and he sprinkled something into the teapot, letting it steep for a few minutes before pouring it into the glass and returning to us, holding the cup out for me to take.

“Thank you,” I murmured, accepting the tea and bringing it up to my nose to smell. It was spicy and earthy, nothing I’d ever had before. I blew on it to cool it off and glanced around awkwardly as the tense silence mounted.

“What is it that you want?” Anders finally asked, and his father smirked.

“Why would I want something?” he retorted, and I took a sip of the tea, wincing as the bitterness enveloped my tongue.

“Because you never do anything for free,” Anders snapped. “Everything has a cost, so name your price.”

“What if I asked you to finish your degree and begin training to take over my role?” Gregori mused, and I burnt my tongue as I accidentally inhaled my tea.

“Then we will see ourselves out,” Anders announced coldly, standing up. Gregori clicked his tongue, shaking his head sharply.

“Is success so awful?” he demanded, clenching his glass so hard I feared it would break. “You could be rich, a world-renowned surgeon!”

“I would rather cut off my fucking hand than ever work with you,” Anders snarled, and I shivered at the menace in your tone.

“You’re spoiled,” Gregori spat, “and unreasonable. Ms. Harding, what do you think? What should my payment be for providing your rag-tag group of near-felons a room and sustenance?”

I balked, taking a large swallow of tea as I considered quickly. “We could pay you,” I offered, and he laughed harshly.

“I have no need for money, darling,” he replied smoothly, and I drained my cup, feeling a little dizzy.

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