Page 16 of Claim

I want to scream and complain, throw my boring plate against the wall.

But I sit quietly. “Not tonight. I’m learning that this is my fate. It’s been hard to wrap my head around it. I’m sorry it took so long.” Stabbing a few leaves with my fork, I pretend it’s going into his eye.

“Can you tell me some of the wedding plans? It might help me get more excited about it.” I flash my best smile and chew the flavorless greens as if they’re filet mignon.

I hate my life.

Ivan’s gray eyebrows raise and his lips purse through his trimmed beard. “Interesting. I’m happy to see that your mood has lifted somewhat.” He leans forward and takes a bite from a buttery roll. “It will make our wedding night much more enjoyable for you if you don’t fight.”

It’s a struggle not to let my cheeks pale at the thought.

“Then again—” He sits back, chewing thoughtfully. “—I was quite looking forward to fucking you while you claw and scream.” He chuckles watching me squirm, then lifts his glass of red wine to take a sip.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough that it keeps the tears at bay.

I have to stop letting him goad me into reacting.

“Are you expecting many guests?” The mushy chicken sticks to the roof of my mouth when I try to smile around it.

His dark dead eyes narrow. “The only one that counts is in the wind. Once I know where my son is, we’ll have the ceremony.”

I can’t fathom this monster being a loving father. Any flesh and blood of his is probably just as awful as he is.

But I have to play nice.

“Who’s your son?” My plate is nearly empty. All I want to do is find out about my mother, but I need to keep him talking.

Ivan pushes back and opens a wooden box near his elbow. Withdrawing one of his stinky cigars, he clips the end and circles his lips around it.

After the smoke wafts through the hollow room, he finally answers.

“You know him. He’s kept you hidden and safe from me for years. My oldest boy’s name is Mikhail.” He draws a long inhale making the ember glow.

No.Not the man who gave Momma money all these years?

How can they be one and the same?

CHAPTER 5

MIKHAIL

My stitches pullwhen I raise my arm to knock.

It only takes a moment for her to answer. She hasn’t changed since the last time I saw her, except the fear in her dark eyes has been replaced with an eager shine.

“Hello, Mikhail. I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.” She gives me a soft smile, then backs away to let me in.

“Zoya. You’re the only place in Russia I know is safe. Thank you for agreeing to let me stay temporarily.” Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I push past her into the living room.

I wouldn’t call it exactly lavish, but certainly comfortable.

It seems she’s done incredibly well with the money I’ve sent.

“Where’s Galena? I’d like to see my sister.” I glance around, but don’t see her.

Zoya's to the end of the hall, gesturing to the first room. “You can have this one. She’s at the neighbor’s house playing with the other children. I’ll be leaving shortly to bring her back.”

That riles me immediately. “Do you trust those people?” I growl, dropping my duffel next to an ornate dresser.

---