“Starting the day with a little light reading?” I ask, nodding toward her book.
“Something like that,” she replies, her voice polite but cool. She doesn’t lift her gaze.
Nothing unusual there. This is basically how Nina has been toward me ever since I stepped foot in this house. I don’t think she necessarilydislikesme—well, maybe a little, seeing as Ididforce a marriage to her best friend.
It's more that when she watches me, and thinks I don't realize it, she’s studying me with suspicion.
I have that effect on most people, though.
I move to the other side of the kitchen island and slide onto a stool, resting my forearms on the counter. “Tea and a book. Very civilized. Makes the rest of us look bad, though.”
“Some of us prefer not to thrive in chaos,” she says smoothly, turning a page.
“Fair enough,” I say with a faint smile, letting the silence hang between us for a beat before gesturing to the book. “Anything interesting?”
She sighs, setting the book down and finally meeting my gaze. “Do youneedsomething, Takeshi?”
“Just making conversation,” I reply lightly, but letting a hint of seriousness creep into my tone. “Is that so bizarre?”
She squints slightly, suspicion flickering in her eyes. “It is with you.”
I chuckle softly. “Fair.” I glance at her tea, then back at her. “It’s nice here, isn’t it? Peaceful, even.”
“For now,” she replies, her voice wary.
“Well, that’s the trick with peace, isn’t it?” I muse, letting my words linger in the air. “It’s fragile. Always waiting for the next thing to shatter it.”
The walls around her rise even higher. “What are you getting at, Takeshi?”
I shrug, smiling. “Nothing. Just talking. Making conversation.”
“We barely ever have conversations.”
“All the more reason to fix that, no?”
She continues to peer at me cautiously. I lean back slightly, holding her gaze.
“You’ve been with Kolya a long time, Nina. You’ve seen how he handles... disruptions. How he ensures things stay peaceful. But you know as well as I do that peace comes at a cost. Someone has to pay. With money. Their life…” I shrug. “Theirfamily…”
Her posture shifts, a flicker of unease in her expression. I say nothing more, letting her connect the dots on her own. When her fingers tighten on her book, I know I’ve hit the mark.
“I’m not a prisoner here,” she says suddenly, her voice almost defiant.
I tilt my head slightly, a small smile on my lips. “Did I say you were?”
“No,” she says sharply. “But you implied it.”
“Really?” I counter, my voice soft but pointed.
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see the struggle in her eyes—between her loyalty to Kolya and the doubts she’s never allowed herself to fully explore.
And just like that, the first crack appears.
“I think you are,” I counter softly, studying her closely. “A prisoner, I mean. Your father was Kolya’s enemy. Technically, you’re Kolya's hostage. Call it what you want—guest, adopted family, whatever—it doesn’t change that.”
Her jaw clenches, her hands gripping the edges of the book. “I know what my family was,” she snaps. “I know what they did. Kolya gave me a home. He treated me with respect in a way they didn't?—”
“I’m not disputing that,” I say, my voice steady. “But don’t pretend he doesn’t use you when it suits him. You think he keeps you here purely out of the goodness of his heart?”