Page 182 of Dance of Madness

“We need vodka. Now.”

He walks over to the wet bar, grabbing a bottle and two glasses.

“Come, sit.” He taps the kitchen island with stools sitting around it. “You’re right, my daughter,” he growls, taking a seat. “You’re not a kid anymore. So…” He nods to the stool opposite his. “Sit. Drink with me. We can talk like adults.”

“Papa,where?—”

“Sit, Milena,” he growls, tapping the counter. “You want to have this adult conversation, we’re going to have it.”

I glare at him, but then walk over and sit across from him. Papa pours us both splashes of vodka and pushes one toward me.

“Where were you for the last three days.”

Fuck it, let’s get it over with.

“With Nero. First, I was his captive?—”

Papa’s eyes flame as his lips curl into a snarl.

“I’m going tokillthat fucking little?—”

“It was a misunderstanding.”

“Exactlyhowis something like that?—”

“Are we going to have a conversation or are you going to yell at me?!”

Papa mutters some curses in Russian and takes a heavy sip of his vodka.

“Keep going,” he finally grumbles, glowering.

“Thank you. I’ll get to the misunderstanding in a minute, but yes, I was his captive. Then I…wasn’t.” I look at him pointedly as I take a sip of the vodka. “Do you want me to elaborate on that now, or do you have further questions.”

“Oh, we’re not remotely done there,” he mutters. “But yes, I do haveseveralmore questions.” He eyes me, his mouth thinning. “What happened to Leo Debolsky.”

I wince and look away.

“He’s…dead.”

My father spits another Russian swear. “Did that fucking psycho kill him?!" he bellows. "Do you know how fucking furious his father is?!” He downs the rest of his vodka at once and slams the glass on the counter. “Vladimir Debolsky wantswar, Milena! Levka has been meeting with him daily since Leo disappeared, making sure this doesn't blow up in our face! Now you're telling me it's because ofus!?”

“Nero didn't want me falling into the hands of apredator!" I fire back.

“NEROis the predator, Milena!" Papa roars. “I don’t understand why you’re protecting him! I have every reason to go down there andbury him?—”

“You do that, and you’ll lose me forever.”

I don’t yell. I don’t scream. But when those words fall truthfully from my mouth, my father goes still and then blinks, like I’ve slapped him.

Silence descends over the kitchen again.

“I think,” he finally says quietly, “that our glasses are dry.”

I smile wryly as he reaches for the bottle and pours us both another drink.

“Papa?”

He smiles quietly as he looks at me. “Da,solnyshka?”

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