“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Willow warns from the recliner. She kicks her legs over the edge of the armrest and wiggles her toes. The distinct crunch of her chewing on a pickle fills the air. She says around her food, “Remember that guy from the dress place?”
I roll my eyes. “I remember he was about to fight you.”
She swallows and grins. “And I’ll fucking do it again.”
As laughter fills the air, the door opens behind us, drawing my attention. I smile and sit up a little straighter as Pavel walks into the room. I feel almost bashful about setting the book aside without having made a decision on the theme. Though Karina and Willow are helping me with the baby shower, I feel a little lost.
Pavel is the perfect distraction right now.
“Hey, how’d it go downstairs?”
Stepan wanders into the foyer behind him.
I frown slightly. “Guess it wasn’t great if he’s with you.”
Pavel pauses next to the side of the couch closest to his sister. “Karina, Willow. Out.”
I flip around. “What?”
He gives no explanation. He doesn’t even meet my gaze. He simply states firmly, “Now.”
Karina bolts from the couch like a deer darting out of the road.
Willow sits upright and plants her feet on the carpet, physically digging her heels into the ground. “Over my dead body.”
“As you wish.”
My heart leaps into my throat as I raise my hands. “Wait, Pavel,no.”
Stepan walks into the room and stands next to Pavel, eyes alert and cold.Sterile.
Pavel nods to Willow and orders, “Remove her.”
Without a word, Stepan obeys. His expression is unreadable and as blank as stretched canvas. He hooks Willow’s arms behind her back and hoists her over the back of the recliner, dragging her toward the door. She shouts and curses, kicking and yanking her arms as she struggles against the man who undoubtedly could pin her with his pinky.
“You fuckingprick!” Willow screams. “If you do anything to her, I’ll fucking kill you!”
Pavel squares his serious gaze on her. “Is that a threat, Willow?”
I stand up and put my hands on his chest. “She doesn’t mean it. She’s just upset. Don’t hurt her.Please.”
He shoulders me out of the way to advance toward the door. “Stepan, if she threatens me again, you know what to do.”
“Of course, Pavel Sergeyevich.”
I squeak as I back toward the terrace door. The sound of the front door shutting makes me sick to my stomach.
My husband didn’t come home today.
The monster did.
He whirls around to face me, handsome features distorted by displeasure. And I can’t for the life of me figure out what the hell I did to earn that look.
No, I think as I step toward him.I’m not backing down. I’m his queen. I deserve answers.
“What the hell is going on?” I ask while crossing my arms over my chest. “You didn’t have to be so fucking rude. You can always just ask to talk to me, you know.”
“Giving you such an impression was a mistake,” he states coldly. “As was trusting you.”