Page 144 of Ruby Mercy

There is no point lying. The truth is written all over my face.

Natalia squeals in delight. “Shut up! Why the fuck are you here working and not over there on his big, thick arm, then? Or on his big, thick—”

“Enough!” I say, shuddering in horror. “I’m not over there because I don’t belong over there. I am Kirill’s maid. I’m a server. I am—”

“Worthy and wonderful and the best person I know.” Natalia wraps her hand around my forearm and squeezes tenderly. “Kirill clearly sees that, too. It’s why he asked me to come run interference.”

“Interference?”

She tips her head in the direction of the party guests. “I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re swimming with piranhas tonight. And you, lovely Rayne, are chum.”

“I’ve been thinking about it more like Minesweeper, but that works, too.”

Natalia frowns. “That old computer game with the little bombs? No way. My analogy is better.”

“The point remains, it’s tense out there.”

“Exactly! Which is why I’m here to distract Sasha Lenin and handle the quadrant of the room where Viktoria is holding court. Kirill wants me to keep them both as far away from you as possible.”

The anxiety in my chest releases slightly knowing I’m not as alone out there as I thought. Though offering Natalia up as a sacrifice in my stead isn’t exactly a relief.

“Be careful,” I warn her. “Seriously. Sasha Lenin is—He’s dangerous. Plus, I already ran into him once and I don’t think he recognized me. He hasn’t made any move to talk to me since. I don’t want anything happening to you, especially for no reason.”

Natalia lifts her chin and grins. “Do you know what eats piranhas?”

“No, actually. Do you?”

“No,” she frowns. “I hoped you would. But it doesn't matter. I’m that animal. The piranha-eater. I’ll be fine.”

As the night goes on, I start to notice Natalia doing exactly what Kirill asked her to. She heads off Sasha anytime he is moving in my direction. In the kitchen, she alternates taking a drink tray and a food tray, depending on what she last served to Viktoria and Sasha. In every way possible, she puts herself between me and discomfort, and I could not be more grateful to her. And, tangentially, to Kirill, I suppose.

But no plan is perfect.

I’m once again refreshing the ice at the drink table and refilling the glass bottles of water that go on each table when a figure moves in front of me. Before I can even look up, Viktoria clears her throat.

“I didn’t think you’d actually have the guts to show your face here.”

I flinch at the grating sound of her voice, but keep working. “I’m not sure why. You invited me.”

“It was less of an invitation and more of a challenge. A challenge you stupidly accepted. What are you doing here?”

I set down the water pitcher and look into her face. Up close, the glitter from her eyeshadow has fallen down onto the tops of her cheeks and I can see her foundation going cakey around her nose. Nothing is as perfect as it seems up close.

Then again, the closer I get to Kirill, the harder it is to blame him for anything that has happened between us.

He loves me.

Kirill loves me.

I sigh. “I’m working, Viktoria. I know you’ve done so little of it that you might not recognize it in the wild, but this is what performing labor for a paycheck looks like.”

“Of course. In your world, I’m a bitch because I’ve never worked for minimum wage. My wealth makes me a bad, morally repugnant person.”

“No, your choices and attitude and general demeanor make you a bad, morally repugnant person,” I tell her. “Your wealth just makes you insufferable.”

Viktoria’s eyes narrow. “Bring me a drink.”

“The bar is that way,” I say, pointing to the open bar in the corner. “There are also plenty of champagne flutes floating around.”

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