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an impatient six-year-old and her very loud five-year-old sister,
Because he hates my fucking guts now and he didn’t care about me enough to want to hear my side of the story.
“I knew you would come,” he whispers in my ear. “I knew it. I just knew it.”
She’s wearing long pants and a long-sleeved shirt but I can still see the bandages under her cuffs. Not to mention the scrapes and bruises on her face.
Caroline and Reagan both tackle him at the waist. Hope they knee him in the balls while they’re at it, I think viciously.
“You’re like the knight in shining silver.” “Armor, Rae!” “I can’t say that word.” Reagan scowls, jutting her tongue out at Caroline.
Honk-shoo-honk-shoo-mimimi. I never thought I’d be grateful for Reagan’s silly little snore.
He raises his eyebrows as if to say, You poor delusional lady, what dream world are you living in?
I’m a basket case. All three kids are gonna need intensive, lifelong therapy because of me. PHOEBE: Em, they lost their mother young and their father is Ben. They were gonna need intensive therapy anyway.
my voice low and menacing. “Those are my kids up there. Those are my kids you’re after.”
“An attempt was made on my boy this evening,”
“Nothing has changed between us, Emma. You and I are not friends or coworkers or lovers. The only reason you’re here at all is because I refuse to let any harm come to those children on account of me. But as soon as the threat is gone, you will be, too. And I will be happier for it.”
“But those girls have a serious sweet tooth and Uncle Kiki is gonna pretend to be Willy Wonka for today. I have sugar bomb cereal for Rae, whipped cream by the boatload for Caro, PB&J supplies for PB&Josh… you get the picture.”
“Sorry, am I supposed to know who that is?” “Modani—the furniture company…?” “My furniture company is IKEA.”
I stare at the open palm he’s offering me. “Are you asking for my hand? Because we really don’t know each other that well.” He cracks a momentary smile. “Your phone, Emma.”
“I don’t get it,” Reagan says with a shrug. “Caro, do you get it?” “Nuh-uh.” “See, Auntie Em? No one gets it.”
The girls agree easily enough but Josh looks at me almost… accusingly? Almost… angrily?
I’m the one who told her to order whatever she wanted and said I would have it delivered.” I glower at him. “Aren’t you ever-so-fucking generous with my money?”
When his eyes finally meet mine again, he exhales. “Brother, if you stare at me any longer, you’re gonna bore a hole through my face.” He uncrosses his legs. “Something bothering you?”
“How often do you go over to the penthouse?” “Which one?” “Don’t be cute.”
That’s my fucking territory is my first thought. My second is, Am I that easily replaced?
“Emma was making roast chicken. What was I supposed to do, say no?” “Yes,” I hiss.
“It’s me, Josh.” “Ruslan!” ACCESS GRANTED. That was fast. No follow-up questions. No are you really Ruslan or are you just pretending to be so that you can gain access to the penthouse and come abduct us all? I’m gonna have to have a chat with that kid.
“It’s not a stomach bug!” she insists passionately. “It’s the baby. The baby’s making Aunt Emma puke all over the bathroom.” “Reagan!” My eyes snap up to find Josh by the entry way with my glass of water. His jaw is hanging open.
trying to get Rae to tell me why she’s been allergic to me all morning. “Can I get a hug at least?” I ask as she scampers past. “No!” she screams before running into her bedroom. A second later, I hear the door slam. I glance at Josh. “What’s up with her today?”
“Um… I dunno…” Then she leapfrogs over one of the footstools and follows Reagan to the room. I bite my lip. Maybe I should invest in therapy sooner rather than later.
“Well, something’s up. I feel like I have a bad case of the cooties.”
I could never be angry with you. You’re one of my two favorite nieces.” That one usually gets a smile. Today—nothing. “Whoa. Tough crowd.”
I wish there was a helicopter waiting on the helipad so that we could make a quick getaway. I don’t even need to know how to fly the thing; I’ll wing it. Or crash it. Either one seems like a better alternative than facing Ruslan.
“Kirill’s already offered to show us around.” Kirill turns to me with an expression that seems to read, Why the fuck are you putting me in the middle?
Dammit. If only “seen and not heard” could be applied to the children as well as the staff.
“Some friendly advice? Go to him. It’s easier that way.” “Pussy.” Kirill rears back with a hand over his heart. “My goodness! The lady has the mouth of a sailor.”
“You know, Emma has experience with—” “Get out.” Giggling like a schoolgirl, he walks the resumes out of my office.
I regret hiring her. I’d rather have the granola for an assistant.
“Does he think I’m up to no good?” I demand. “Spying for someone else now, I suppose. Probably the government. Or Mossad. Maybe some rival Bratva don?” “Pahkan.” “Whatever.”
“I’m sorry… I’m being a bitch. It’s the hormones.” “Yeah, you better milk that excuse while you can.”
“You’re really annoying, y’know that?” I stick my tongue out at him. “Oh, real mature.” “It’s the hormones,” I say prettily.
“Is there something I can help you with or do you wanna just ogle Ruslan some more?” “I was not. And also—shh!” His face is going red from the need to laugh. “Seriously, Kirill. Stop drawing attention. He’s gonna turn around and—oh, fuck, he’s coming—will you stop giggling?”
It doesn’t help that she barely reacts to me anymore. She keeps her own feelings bottled up tight and out of reach. Even when I’m cruel to her, she doesn’t react apart from a half-flinch or a fraction of a frown. Maybe she doesn’t actually care. Maybe she’s pretending, just like I am. Either way, I find myself wanting to grab her and shake her. Wake up, I want to yell. Fight back.
You know you’ve hit an all-time low when you come to from a fainting spell and all you can think is, Well, that was restful.
“Where’s Ruslan?” Probably skulking off somewhere, cursing the day he laid eyes on me.
I stalk into my office and slam the door, forgetting momentarily that Kirill is right behind me. “Oh, you ass—!” he exclaims as the door narrowly misses taking out his nose.
I try Emma’s door, I find it locked. Breathe, motherfucker, I coach myself. She needs your patience now. As hard-to-find as that may be.
“Who is it?” “Ruslan.” A beat of silence. And then: “No thank you.” “Emma. I just want to see how you’re doing.” “Tell Kirill he’s an ass. And we’re not friends anymore.”
“You better get out of here now before I do something crazy and kiss you,” I warn her.
“What about the kids?” He frowns. “The kids are fine.” “You’ll look after them?” His frown gets the tiniest bit deeper. “Of course I will. You don’t ever have to worry about them again.”
“Y-you can’t make me sign those papers.” I close my eyes. Oh no, Ben. You shouldn’t have said that. When I open them again, I see Ruslan squatting so he’s eye level with Ben.
“Let me be very clear. You have two choices here: sign and you get to live. Refuse? You die and we get the kids anyway.” I do a confused double-take. Did he just say “we”?
“I knew exactly what you would be to me from the moment I heard that accidental voicemail you left me.” I’m so lost in desire that I don’t even blush. “I heard your hungry moans, your desperate little gasps, and I knew from that moment on exactly what you were.” “Ahh… W-what… what was I?” “Mine,” he growls. “All. Fucking. Mine.”
“I’m happy to tease you, Emma.” His tone is so serious that I have no choice but to pay attention. “I’m happy for you to be my whore and my slut in bed. But that’s where it ends.”
