Page 17 of Ruthless King
Liar, a part of me hisses. The sighting of Donatello just reinforces the opposite reality—Mischa isn’t my father. Ellen isn’t my mother, and for all their love and kindness, I am not their daughter.
I wasn’t Donatello’s, either.
My real parents abandoned me at the mercy of a monster who couldn’t even do me the courtesy of devouring me himself. He threw me away and never looked back.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the memories. When I reopen them, I’m in my room again, standing before the bed. I finger the dress still lying here, snatching handfuls of the fabric. Maybe it’s the color that softens me to it? Or that it’s so similar to the dress I’d been meant to wear when Mischa first acquired me.
This arrangement of fabric symbolizes the twisted full circle my life has become—I’m the heiress of an empire that would have chewed me up and spit me back out.
“You can’t ignore me, Will.”
Eli’s here as well, I find, watching me from the doorway. “You’ve been quiet, too,” he admonishes.
I feign surprise and point to my mouth.
He rolls his eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean.” He raises his hands, letting his fingers contort.You just stood there and let them talk around you. You never let anyone talk around you.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s improved so much with signing despite me being away. Knowing him, he’s been practicing.
I’ve grown up,I sign back.
He shakes his head, still motioning with his hands.No. Something happened. I know it. What’s wrong? Did something happen at that stupid school?
No.I insist, turning to stare from the nearest window rather than face him directly.
An education overseas gave me an even more insular upbringing, and while music isn’t an exciting profession, it’s safe. Much like the most carefully composed concerto, it’s beautiful, formed of predictable notes, and contained order. You can stray from the rules only so far and still create something incredible.
Music healed me from hate.
Or perhaps it’s become more of a Band-Aid in some ways—one I’m terrified to rip off.
I can’t be that scared, angry little girl again.
I won’t let even his memory steal my life from me a second time. Shaking my head, I banish him only to discover that Eli’s still watching me.
Will you be at the party?I ask, changing the subject.I can ask Mischa to make an exception.
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Eli grumbles out loud, wrinkling his button nose. “Come with me?”
Grateful for the change in subject, I follow him into the hall and into the wing opposite this one where Ellen, Mischa, and the children stay.
“Mama?” Eli calls as we near a suite of rooms. We’ve barely rounded the corner when a slender woman with long dark hair coiled into a braid appears at the other end of the hall. Anna. A shapeless brown dress helps her to almost blend into the wood-paneled walls. It’s her quiet beauty that gives away her resemblance to Ellen, her half-sister. Otherwise, they’re as opposite as night and day.
“There you are, darling,” she calls, sighing in relief. “Oh, and Willow! I didn’t know you were home so soon. Welcome back.”
She steps forward to throw her slender arms around me. While she’s distracted, Eli chooses this moment to pounce.
“Do you think I could stay up late tomorrow night, Mama?” he asks. “Willow wants me at her party. Please?” He’s as shameless as Aljona or Marnie, batting his eyelashes charmingly with a grin to match.
Anna bites her lower lip. “I don’t know, darling…” Hesitantly, she runs her fingers through his hair, eventually returning his smile. “I’ll think about it.”
He throws his arms around her with unbridled joy. “Thank you!”
She kisses his cheek, smoothing his hair one final time. “I suspect you two have a lot to catch up on,” she says, winking at me. “I’ll let you enjoy your time.”
The moment she’s out of view, I turn to Eli, signing,You were worried about her? She would give you the moon if you asked for it.
He shrugs. “You know she doesn’t like being around a lot of people.”
