Deceitful Vows by Brook Wilder

Chapter 36

Andrei

 

“You look like you crawled down those stairs.”

 

I glare at Dmitri in my office, helping himself to my father’s fifty-year-old scotch. No, my fifty-year-old scotch. At least he’s not sitting behind my desk. I’d say something cutting to wither his pride on the vine, but Mother is on the couch, waiting with him.

 

It’s after midnight. What are they up to?

 

“How is Paige?” Mother asks. She wrings her hands in her lap. Her expression reminds me of how she looked before Vasily erupted and destroyed everything in his path of rage before turning it on her. I’m not that man, but my temper is rising all the same.

 

“Who told you?” Coolly, I lean against my desk as if I’ve just left marital bliss to be with them.

 

They look at one another before Dmitri answers.

 

“The men keep me informed. It’s part of their job, Andrei Vasilyevich.” He speaks as if he is educating me, but I curb my irritation. Obviously, the men didn’t mention Talia sneaking by them.

 

Smiling sweetly, Mother stands to approach me. She rests her hand on my folded arms, and the angry tension loosens its hold on my tight shoulders in seconds. In front of her, I will show patience, but when she leaves …

 

I glance at Dmitri. He gets the message and quickly drains my scotch down his throat. The empty glass clinks quietly on the bar when he’s done.

 

“Andrushka, she was not born into this life,” Eva speaks softly. “She does not understand what is expected. But she is a good person with a kind heart. A rare find in our world. You must teach her what you want her to be. And it would happen faster if you used kindness. Stop dousing her with vinegar and try a little honey instead.”

 

“You have it in you,” chuckles Dmitri. “You’ll have to use your charm for more than getting laid.”

 

Mother makes a face at the comment as she takes her hand away.

 

“It is cruel not to let her see her family,” she says. “You had a bad relationship with your father, Andrushka, but she doesn’t have the same relationship with hers. I hear he’s on his deathbed.”

 

Mother doesn’t need to hear what I plan to say to Dmitri. Instead, I kiss her forehead softly to remind her that I’m still capable of love. I hold her hand in mine and guide her toward the door. Her face glows with a subdued smile.

 

“You are right, Mama. In the morning, I want you to have breakfast with my wife. I want her to feel welcome in our home.”

 

“She’s your wife, Andrushka.” Mother sighs. “Not a guest for me to entertain.”

 

She closes the door behind her before I can respond.

 

“There better not be a smirk on your face when I turn around,” I warn Dmitri.

 

Dmitri chuckles. “Eva was watching from the window when you arrived home. She hoped to see a happy couple, not a bickering one.”

 

I stroll over to the bar and lower my voice to a snarl. “You need to stop gossiping with the women.”

 

Dmitri’s cocky grin fails. “The women keep me in the loop. They see more, and they’re willing to talk.” He pauses and spins his glass on the counter. “Oleg said something bad happened at the restaurant. You dragged Paige out of there in a hurry, but he won’t say anything more.”

 

“Talia was there. She introduced herself to Paige while digging her claws into Paige’s wrist.”

 

“Did she?” The levity is gone as he paces the room. “And does Paige Geraldovna still have the earrings?”

 

I nod. The earrings were both a gift and a means of keeping tabs on her. A tracking chip is nestled in them. If she tries escaping again, I will know. I know she wants to make her way back to her family, but I can’t risk it. Katerina, one of her guards, already paid them a visit under the guise of a social worker through the hospital. And it’s only a matter of time before Paige makes that attempt to see them again.

 

“She should have a phone too,” he says. “As a backup, we can map wherever she goes.”

 

“Then get a phone.”

 

Dmitri stops pacing and looks at me. He won’t dare caution me on my tone. Instead, he disappears, jangling his keys down the hall, and in less than fifteen minutes, he returns with a new Samsung. Boxes of them are stacked in a locked steel cabinet in a room off-limits to the staff unless they want to end up in the basement or worse. He hands it to me but keeps hold of it until I give him a wary look.

 

“Be kind to her, Andrei,” he says. “That’s all she really wants. You owe her that much.”