Page 68 of Pretty Little Princess

I don’t even want to know how my mother knows. I didn’t tell her. Though I suppose there were a number of eyes and ears who could have gathered as much after everything that went down last night. But hearing her delight over my conquest turns my stomach.

I hated myself the moment I came down from the high of being with Silvia for the first time, and it’s only gotten worse since then. I should never have done what I did. I betrayed Silvia. I manipulated her–told her what she wanted to hear to get what I needed from her.

And in return, she gave me everything.

I’ve never met someone so kind, so open-hearted, so loving. I’ve always considered Silvia beautiful. She’s quite pretty in a delicate, softly feminine kind of way. But after this weekend, I find her captivating. Because she’s so much more than the sum of her parts. Yes, she’s physically appealing, but she’s also compassionate, intelligent, creative, talented, andbrave. And she radiates a hope I can’t begin to fathom.

“You look upset,” my mother observes dryly, cutting into my reverie. “What, are you worried about what I might have heard? It’s my job to know everything that takes place under this roof, Pyotr. Including that little mishap you had with those three Zhivoder men.”

Her look is piercing, and my stomach drops as she names the Bratva our family has been on the brink of war with.

“They were Zhivoder?” I rasp, my throat suddenly dry.

“Not that they were invited,” my mother states, waving the notion away. “Mikhail must have thought he could send them to pose as well-wishers–a farce of a diplomatic gesture–but I know they were really here to spy. So don’t feel bad. You did me a favor by taking them out, and now you’re in even better standing with the Marchetti girl–I’m sure–after such a heroic rescue.”

The Marchetti girl.I wish she would stop calling her that. My mother might play the gracious host in Silvia’s presence, but she doesn’t care an ounce more for the girl I’m supposed to marry than she did the day she proposed our engagement.

I, on the other hand, have changed. My position has changed, and I can feel my loyalties shifting. Even as we sit here, discussing what took place yesterday. Because the fact is, as much as I love my family, as fiercely as I want to protect them, what I feel for Silvia is no longer an act.

I didn’t save her to get in her good graces. I didn’t sleep outside her door to make a show of being some heroic prince. I did it because I can’t seem to stop myself from being drawn to her. I want to be with Silvia. I’m confident we have something real–or at least we could have.

But now more than ever, I’ve come to realize I don’t deserve her. She’s good and kind and trusting, and I took advantage of that. Just like I always have. And now I don’t know how to move forward.

“All I wanted to say, Pyotr, is that I’m proud of you. You’re really stepping up. You’re showing me that you’re setting aside personal wants and desires and doing what’s best for this family. It gives me hope for when you take over.” My mother reaches across the table to give my forearm and firm squeeze.

I almost withdraw from the rare sign of affection, too conflicted to appreciate her praise. My mother might be happy with what I’ve done, but I’m not sure I can live with it. The guilt is gnawing steadily away at my insides, leaving my stomach a raw, acidic mess.

It feels like, for once, fate dealt me a winning hand only to play some big joke at my expense. I’m meant to marry one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met. She’s promised to me. But before we tie the knot, I’m supposed to destroy every last shred of trust and hope she might have in me.

“May I be excused?” I ask, forcing my tone to remain steady, though my emotions are in complete chaos.

“Of course,” my mother says lightly, withdrawing her hand. “Have a safe flight back to Chicago. I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”

Shoulders stiff, I rise without another word and leave the dining room.

My mother seems too busy to give us a proper send-off when Silvia and I are ready to head back to the Windy City an hour later. But Mila does her best to make me proud. She gives Silvia a warm hug as we stand at the end of the tarmac, then grips my fiancée’s arms.

“I do hope I get to see you again soon,” Mila says affectionately. “Maybe you can convince Pyotr to invite me to come visit,” she adds.

Silvia releases a light chuckle, and I’m shocked at how good it feels to hear her laugh. Even for a moment. She’s seemed so troubled since last night that I worried she might be too far gone. And I don’t have the first clue about how to help her from that pit of despair.

“I’ll do my best,” Silvia promises, giving my sister a warm smile.

Mila turns to me, the worry in her eyes shining through. Stepping close, she gives me a tight hug and leans onto her toes to whisper in my ear. “You stay safe, okay? And take care of Silvia?” she presses.

My heart squeezes at her perceptive words, and I hug her tightly. “Always,” I promise, though I force a lightness into my tone and follow it up by tousling my kid sister’s hair.

“Ugh, you’re so annoying!” Mila groans, shoving me away.

I chuckle. “You love me,” I tease.

“You’re lucky I do,” she gripes.

I turn to Silvia then and find a stricken look in her eyes. It’s fleeting, and then she drops her gaze. But it makes me think back on my exchange with Mila.You love me.The words were playful, but after I used the phrase to get Silvia into bed with me, I can only imagine the betrayal she must feel.

My stomach drops into my feet, and the dark cloud of guild enfolds me once more. I clench my fists and offer Silvia my elbow without a word. She takes it silently, allowing me to lead her to the plane.

At the top of the stairs, before I duck inside, I turn back to wave at Mila. She smiles broadly at me now, raising her arm above her head to give me an enthusiastic goodbye. But Silvia’s fingers slip from around my arm as she makes her way toward the seats on her own.

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