She’s nice.
So much sweeter than I imagined.
Guilt at stealing her from her life wars equally with the desire to keep her—permanently.
I reward her sweetness with the courtesy I didn’t extend at the church. “Alessia, you already met Zoya, my housekeeper. She doesn’t speak English, but she will see to all your needs. I will get you a translator until you learn from your Rosetta Stone.”
Alessia sticks a hand out and Zoya reluctantly takes it and bows over it.
“Her husband, Yegor. He’s the caretaker.”
Yegor bows.
In Russian, I introduce Mika to my staff. I already advised them about my prisoner, but I forgot to mention my new ward.
Zoya glowers at him, like she’s afraid he’s going to mess up my house, but of course, she says nothing.
“Come, both of you. I’ll give you a tour.” I show them around the house. I’ve already given instructions to my staff to remove any access to phones or internet and my men will surround all exits to keep Alessia from leaving. This way, she can be free to move about the mansion.
“This will be your room, Mika.” I open the door to one of the guest suites.
He goes over and sits on the bed, giving it a little bounce. Then he gazes at me, his blue-grey eyes searching. “For how long?”
I shrug. “We’ll see.” I’m not one to make plans or promises. I don’t know how this thing with Alessia will play out. Or if I will even want to stay in Russia. I don’t particularly even want to return to my former life here.
It was the wrong thing to say, though.
Alessia glares at me, lips tightening.
I frown back at her, but then sigh and try to make it right.
“You can stay here as long as you like, Mika. It’s your home.”
Apparently it still wasn’t the right response because Alessia shakes her head at me.
I give her the “what?” gesture and she shakes it harder.
I toss Mika the remote to the television in his room. “Feel free. Or go explore. As you like.” I wave my hand.
Outside the room, Alessia pulls me down the hall away from the room, but lays into me immediately. “Mika needs stability. You don’t tell him he’s welcome to stay. He’s not a houseguest. You tell him he’ll be with you, whether it’s here or elsewhere. That he’s yours and you’re going to look after him.” Now she digs in her heels and pulls us to a stop. “You are going to look after him, aren’t you?”
I sigh.
This was not a commitment I was prepared to make. The boy became my responsibility by default, not because I chose it.
“Listen, I wasn’t looking to become a father. You know how unfit I am. I’ve involved the boy in serious crimes. Kept him from a proper education.”
“He just needs someone to care about him. He’s looking to bond. Until you make sure he knows you’re committed, he’s hardly got a shot at becoming a decent human being.”
I curse in Russian and run my fingers through my hair. “Your opinion is noted,” I grumble. “Now come on, bride. it’s time to call in for your dowry.”
Alessia
My dowry.
“Are you calling my brother?” I ask as Vlad leads me into a master suite.
“Da.” He retrieves a tablet from the leather satchel he always has with him.
“Which one?”
“I’m calling Junior. Is he not the head of the Family?”
I lift one shoulder. “Yes and no. Officially, yes. But Nico holds the financial power.”
“Yes, Nico. He runs the Bellissimo.”
Flutters fly in my belly. Just talking about my brothers makes them seem closer. More able to find me and rescue me. “Can I talk to them?”
“If you’re good. I will put you on video so they can see you are well. But no funny business.” He points a stern finger at me.
I look down at the wedding gown. They will see me on my wedding day. My eyes sting. Married to a criminal. That part was expected, I just thought it would be one of their choosing.
Vlad leans against a dresser and uses his phone, then powers up the tablet.
A moment later the tablet starts ringing. Vlad smirks as he slides his finger across the screen.
“Junior. Remember me?”
“Vladimir.” I hear the darkness in Junior’s voice. The threat.
“I have something of yours. Someone, actually.”
Junior curses in Italian. In the background I hear my other brothers’ voices.
“If anything happens to Alessia, I’ll rip your spine out. Where is she?” Junior’s voice booms from the tablet.
I scramble over to Vlad’s side to see. I half expect him to keep me from it, but he doesn’t, he lets me lean in beside him, filling the screen with my face.
Junior’s face fills the screen on the other side, but I see parts of Nico and Stefano behind him.
“Alessia,” Junior speaks quickly. “Tell me where you are.” He says it in Italian—clever thinking.