Rough Exile

“Delilah.” I smiled politely.

“Yes, Delilah. Lovely name.” I could tell he didn’t give a rat’s ass what my name was and wouldn’t bother remembering. “You may go, Bron. Make sure you tell Sergei I expect to hear from him tomorrow.”

Bron nodded and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Please, have a seat.”

He gestured to the visitor chair, leaving the desk between us. When I sat, the chair’s leather was still warm from its previous occupant.

“I make a point of meeting with all of my sons’ wives. Usually, my first meeting with them is before the nuptials, but I can understand why Ilya was in such a hurry. I’m sure he wanted to get a ring on your finger before you had time to come to your senses.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m happy with my choice of husband.”

“You didn’t look happy at your wedding.”

“Ilya surprised me. I don’t know if surprise weddings are common in Russia, but they’re not in America.”

“Weddings usually take place over several days here—at least two.” He shrugged. “What does it matter? The end result is the same.”

I smoothed my skirt and waited for him to get to the point. If this was a social visit, I’d be surprised.

He moved to the side of his desk and sat on the edge, scrutinizing my face as I examined the painting of a storm at sea that hung behind his desk. It looked like an original, but I didn’t know enough about art to recognize it or the signature. Considering Vas’s house, I assumed it was probably expensive.

“This isn’t really about Ilya’s allowance, is it?”

“It is.” He got up and poured himself a drink from the sideboard. I declined politely when offered one. He moved behind his desk and sat again, then sipped at his drink before elaborating.

“I’ll put this bluntly. My children are lazy. The only one who’s ever shown grit is Bronislav, and that is only because he wasn’t spoiled by his mother. I did my best with them, but I’m a busy man.” He shrugged and drained his glass. “It’s too easy to get distracted by a pretty face. It’s a woman’s character a man should consider before he breeds her.”

He turned his dark gaze to me. The man that gave me the willies. Sure, Bron was dangerous, but there was something in Vas’s eyes that I recognized all too well from the Island, where rich men hunted us for sport. There were rules there, but there were always men who were looking to circumvent them. Vas was that type of man. Dangerous. It wasn’t a question of whether he’d killed people or had them killed, it was only a question of how many and how recently.

I straightened my spine and tried to look as dignified as I could. Being the object of his scrutiny was making me wish I’d stopped long enough to use the bathroom because I suddenly needed to pee. I waited, not knowing what he was looking for in my eyes. Guilelessness or calculation? I had a feeling this man didn’t have a lot of respect for anyone naïve enough to be guileless.

“You understand that in this family, I am in charge. I decide which of my children are in favor and which of them get an increase in their allowance.”

“Of course.”

“Bronislav has told me that Ilya is very fond of his little island and expects that he may choose to return rather than stay here.”

Slowly, I nodded.

“A woman like you never wants a weak man unless he has money.”

“I can assure you I don’t want Ilya’s money, and he’s not weak at all—he’s only different from you.”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

“So, you understand who will pay all of your bills?”

“Yes,” I said hesitantly. Once Bron took over, I supposed it would be him, but maybe the money would be tied to Vas until he died?

“Everyone in this family knows it’s in their best interest to stay on my good side.”

I didn’t like where this seemed to be going. “That makes sense.”

“Good. I’m glad you understand your place in the family and my expectations of you.”

We stared at each other across the desk.

“What do you mean?”

“I expect the same thing from you that I expect from the rest of my daughters-in-law.” He toyed with his empty glass. “You will come to my office when I summon you and you will do everything I say without exception or hesitation.”

I felt like an eel had invaded my stomach and was slithering around in there. “As in, you expect me to…”

His smile was nasty. “If you’re a good lay, I may even increase your husband’s allowance.”

What in the actual fuck?

Needing to stall for time, I got up and poured myself the drink he’d offered me. He’d already indirectly paid for me to be here, through the money he’d put in Bron or Ilya’s wallet, but this was fucking creepy. Could I bring myself to do this to help Ilya keep his island and his stipend?

I felt ill.

How could he be so disgusting?

Aside from the ick factor of sleeping with a man who was sleeping with all my sisters-in-law, and the chance of catching an STI, I didn’t want to earn our livelihood by doing sexual favors for my father-in-law. There was no way my men would want me to.