Deceitful Lies by Brook Wilder

 

Chapter 38

Paige

 

My heart beats hard whenever I pick apart the conversation I had with Dad.

 

I try to think hard about what Mom could’ve taken from the house. The memory is vague of her leaving with just a few suitcases, barely looking back as Emma howled in the kitchen doorway. I only cared that we weren’t going with her, that Dad was no longer speaking to Mom and wouldn’t tell me where she had gone or when she would be coming back.

 

I’m not going to watch that happen to my child. I won’t know what to say when she or he asks about their father. I will lie if I have to, and tell them their father is dead. It’s an awful thought, a horrible thing to think about, even as a terrible lie. I wipe my hand over my eyes to get rid of the image. I love Andrei too much to even think that.

 

“Would you care for a light lunch, Paige Geraldovna?” A member of the kitchen staff stands by the doorway in a long apron. I’m not hungry, but it’s the baby who decides when and what we eat.

 

“Some herbal teas, please.” I hate herbal teas. They stink like old socks. But I’m supposed to be resting today for the baby. And the ballroom is the perfect place to relax. A painting of the sky overhead, soft music playing on hidden speakers, and the perfect temperature inside on a hot day.

 

Andrei is somewhere with Dmitri, I think, and the house is too quiet. What’s wrong with me? I don’t like ducking behind furniture, screaming as bullets fly by. I sigh from boredom. Maybe it is a little dull until I hear sobbing coming down the hall. Emma rushes into the ballroom, her face red from crying.

 

My heart chokes my throat. My feelings for my father have changed drastically since I’ve learned his secret. But suddenly, I realize that I still love him. I want Dad to go back to the way he was. And we can blame the breakdown on his illness. But none of that will happen if he dies first. And Emma and I can’t go anywhere without finding his money first.

 

I stand up to hold her, and Emma flings herself into my arms, knocking us both down onto the couch. I hold her tight and hate seeing her cry. But a feeling comes over me as I touch her feverish face against my cheek. Emma still needs me, no matter what has happened between us. My sister came running to me, and she’ll always need me.

 

I brush her hair off her damp face. “Emma, darling, I know it’s hard, but we knew this would happen.”

 

“Knew it would happen?” The tears stop in a flash as she stares at me coldly. “You knew Viktor was going to dump me?”

 

I blink. I never thought it would happen without divine intervention. “Viktor dumped you?”

 

She hiccups loudly. “What did you think happened?”

 

“I thought you were crying because of Dad.”

 

Emma shakes her head and starts crying again louder. “No, Viktor’s broken off our …” she pauses for a moment as she searches for the right word. “Friendship.”

 

I purse my lips, knowing damn well it’s not a platonic friendship. “Maybe it’s for the best. You two are so different.”

 

Emma yanks herself off me and gives me a wicked look. I know that sounded insincere, but it’s hard to comfort her when I’m smiling inside. Viktor is dangerous, and maybe this will be the end of her target practice in the backyard.

 

I might not be able to save my child, but I can still save my sister.

 

Emma’s voice rises to an ear-splitting wail. “Your husband told him to dump me.”

 

I’m stunned to hear this. I knew Andrei would disapprove—why else were Emma and Viktor keeping their relationship a secret?

 

“For what reason?” I ask.

 

“It’s part of his initiation,” Emma slumps into the couch. “He can’t be with me if he wants to be in the Bratva, because I’m not Bratva.”

 

Neither am I, but I don’t say it aloud. I married into the Bratva, but there’s always something that sets me apart from the others. I’m tolerated because I have another purpose in Andrei’s life. Is this a glimpse of my future? Will I be treated as coldly as my sister? I feel offended and defensive for Emma. Is this a whim of his? To have Viktor dump my little sister?

 

“Emma, I know it’s hard.” I do my best to sound sympathetic. “Believe me, I know. But it’s better to find out now than later.”

 

“Later?” She scowls. “It’s too late. We’ve done more than kiss, Paige.”

 

My hands clench in fists. I’m not mad at her. I’m furious with him. Viktor took advantage of my innocent sister. He can’t get away with fucking her and then dumping her.

 

“What has he done?” I ask, my voice harsher than I expected.

 

“No, I’m still a virgin … technically.” Emma’s face flames scarlet as she studies the floor. “I thought I had good taste in men,” she sighs. “But it turns out that my taste is as bad as yours.”

 

That stings, but I ignore the jibe and yank Emma closer toward me, giving her a smothering hug. I’m not sure what to think. Maybe this desire to join the Bratva is over now that Viktor has dumped her. Maybe Emma will stop arguing with me, and my resolve will strengthen. When it’s time to leave, she’ll be with me, not fighting me.

 

But something is bothering me that makes me want to confront Andrei. 

 

Eva walks into the room, and her smile instantly turns to fear. She looks as pale as the white linen dress she is wearing when she sees Emma crying and me on the verge of angry tears.

 

“Oh God. What has happened?” She rushes toward me and pulls me into her arms. “No. Not now. Nothing bad can happen now.” Eva becomes so emotional, I have to wonder what else is going on.

 

“Emma had her heart broken,” I tell her.

 

Emma frowns through her tears. “No. Just my pride.”

 

Emma’s lips tremble as fresh tears fall, and Eva pulls her into her arms, patting her hair. Eva gives me a knowing look. “Cry it out and forget him,” she tells her. “Men can be thoughtless, but I’m sure he didn’t mean to be cruel. They think differently than us.”

 

“I thought he liked me,” Emma whispers. “I thought we were in this together.”

 

Emma clings to Eva as they leave the ballroom, headed for the kitchen. “I’ll make you some tea, and you can tell me everything you feel. I will listen where others won’t.”

 

My anger takes over my body, and I head to Andrei’s office before reason can stop me. I don’t bother to knock before I walk in. He’s alone, typing away at his laptop atop a desk scattered with papers. His thoughtful concentration seems out of place, especially compared to the usual hair-raising threats he shouts into his phone.

 

“Yes, my wife?”

 

I pace, eager to start a fight. “Did you tell Viktor to dump Emma for the Bratva?”

 

The icy look he gives me knocks my anger down a notch. “Is that not what you demanded?”

 

I stammer, “Viktor didn’t have to do it so cruelly.”

 

“Then how else would he have done it?” Andrei asks coolly. “I thought you would be dancing up and down the halls. Your little sister hasn’t been lured into the Bratva.” He pauses to look at a piece of paper. “Sometimes being cruel gets the point across. She’ll get over him.”

 

I scramble to make a point. “I should have told her.”

 

“Would she have listened to you?” he asks.

 

I glare at him, at a loss, but Andrei remains indifferent and refuses to let me have the last word.

 

“I am the pakhan, not you,” he says, standing. “Victor was Emma’s guard, not her lover.”

 

“Is that so?” I bite back, letting the old wounds resurface. Is he implying our marriage is nothing more than a similar arrangement? “Do you think the same way about me?”

 

“Is that what you want to believe?” he asks.

 

“You made it clear our marriage was fake. Has anything changed?”

 

His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t answer. I don’t need an answer, not when I already have one. I slam the door shut as I storm out of the room.