Page 15 of Bred To Be Owned

I set my bookbag near the door and searched the room for Irini. It didn’t take long to find her sitting on the windowsill. She had pulled her knees up to her chin and had wrapped her arms around them. Her head tilted so that her forehead rested against the cold windowpane. I made sure that my sneakers made a noise against her floor. I didn’t want to startle her, even though I wasn’t sure she even heard me.

Sitting across from her, I mirrored her position.

“Hey, sister,” I whispered. She didn’t move. “We have to get you ready. The Russians are coming for a dowry dinner tonight.”

A soft sigh escaped her lips. It was so light that I wasn’t sure it was even real.

“You’re getting married again, Irini,” I tried again, hoping she would respond. It was wishful thinking, but I quickly glossed over the thought for fear it wouldn’t happen.

She slid her forehead against the windowpane until she could watch me.

I didn’t know what to do. Her brown eyes, so similar to mine, were black. Her pupils didn’t even dilate. They seemed to vanish into the abyss. I couldn’t let her suffer for this dinner. Before I knew it, I wastelling her about the Russian. “I can’t tell you everything. Some of it I don’t know, and you would be safer if I didn’t tell you the other parts.”

She lifted her head and leaned against the wall of the window seat, listening.

“I met him at your first wedding,” I told her with a smile. “I escaped the ballroom for a minute, and he found me on the patio. The Russian could have burned me. Instead, he gave me a way to protect you.”

Her brow furrowed, and I wondered how much she truly understood.

“He’s a good man, Irini. You don’t have any reason to be afraid. The Russian promised me he’d take care of you like a sister.” I took a deep breath. “You and I both know men lie in this world, but I don’t think he did when he promised me your protection. Give him a chance, Irini. He has your best interests at heart.”

I laid my head against the other wall of the window seat. I believed everything I’d said to her, but I wished it was me in her position. This was the first time I allowed myself to acknowledge I had feelings for the Russian.

Chapter 9

Toula

My sisters and I walked into the receiving parlor precisely at 6:00. Guests were unpredictable, and we wouldn’t risk incurring my mother’s wrath by being late. Irini walked straight to the sofa and perched on the corner. I followed her lead and sat in the middle, with Katalina to my left. At ten, Sophia would escape this torture again.

I didn’t think any of us resented her youth. There had been a time when we’d been able to escape the formalities. It just seemed like my father favored Sophia more than the rest of us. She had a bodyguard and a nanny, when the only place she attended religiously on her own was school. He would laugh it off if someone caught her running in the halls. My mother often beat the rules into the rest of us until we submitted to her dominance. Sophia had free rein to bend them to her liking, with my father’s backing.

The grandfather clock chimed 6:15, but we remained silent.

“Hey, Irini.” Kat leaned forward, turning in her seat so she could see us better. “You should be excited. Ilya’s definitely an upgrade. I bet he’s stacked below the belt.” Kat cackled.

My emotions were too raw to find any humor in that, and if my mother had heard her, she would have beaten Kat to within an inch of her life. “You’re too young to be thinking about sex,” I chided her. “You attend church every Sunday. Try to pay attention, so some of it actually rubs off on you.”

“Oh, it does. Father Mihalis inspires me to do better.” She smiled widely at me, batting her eyelashes, before flopping back in her seat. Father Mihalis had only been with the congregation a few months, but he already had most of the women swooning over him. He was supposed to be married to the church, but he was young and hadn’t learned that the women would ask for favors he wouldn’t be able to grant.

The room went silent again as we waited. It wasn’t long before we saw the headlights shine through the windows, the light bouncing off the far walls of the receiving parlor. Kat and I turned toward the windows to watch as the Russian delegation’s convoy pulled into the roundabout in front of the compound.

“They’re here,” I whispered. I’d perfected my poker face over the years, but I must have looked as disoriented as I felt. Katalina watched me out of the corner of her eye. She didn’t voice her concerns, but it was enough to know I needed to lock my emotions down. I wouldn’t survive this dinner if everyone could read me like an open book.

My mother hurried into the parlor and took her place near the fire. Sitting in the nearest chair, she crossed her legs and smoothed the skirt of her dress. No one said a word as we waited. My father would lead the Russians into his office for a celebratory drink to honor the arrangement. This was all a formality, and we weren’t important untilmy father officially introduced us as his family. It was a reminder that the seemingly barbaric traditions were unbreakable.

The only sounds in the room were the occasional shift in position and the grandfather clock’s chime. It wasn’t until the men’s laughter rang through the empty halls that we knew it was time. Shifting to the edge of my seat, I hooked my arm through Irini’s, and when my father appeared at the parlor door, we stood together.

“Gentleman, my oikogéneia.” My father introduced us as his family. He went straight for my mother and kissed her on the cheek. They shared a quick moment, and all I felt was dread of the unknown.

“My wife, Maria.” My mother didn’t really need an introduction. She had her own reputation to uphold, but my father would never publicly spite her. He then turned and pointed at us. “My daughters. Irini, Toula, and Katalina.” He looked at Ilya and said, “Irini will be your wife.” She didn’t move an inch, not even a reflex at the mention of her name.

The Russian walked over to where we stood, nodding at Kat and me. “Ladies,” he greeted us. There was a roughness in his voice that I hadn’t heard before, and it made me want to ask if he was alright, to smooth any hurt he might have had. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but Kat discreetly pinched my side. The slight pain made me remember where I was. Schooling my features, I waited.

The Russian took a few steps so that he stood in front of Irini. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he leaned down and whispered into her ear. It was too soft for me to hear, but I wanted to demand to know what he said. Her head tilted towards him as he pulled slightly away. The Russian kissed her other cheek in greeting and stood back, waiting.

When Irini didn’t move, my mother took over as the perfect hostess. She ushered the men out the door and down the hall towards theformal dining room. Kat and I were supposed to be the last people to leave the parlor, but the Russian stayed. The blonde frat boy from earlier was in attendance, and he stood by the door that led to the foyer, his arms folded over his chest as if this was the last place he wanted to be.

“Irini,” the Russian spoke to her softly. “Will you do me the honor and walk me into the dining room?” He crooked his arm out in her direction.

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