“Ronan,” she growled. “You are nothing but collateral to him. And maybe a fleeting amusement, like a fancy new toy, but I assure you, his interest will pass.”
I dropped my plate on the coffee table. “Is everyone on a mission to ruin my breakfasts?” I exclaimed. “And for your information, Nadia, I’ve never laid a claim on him.” I thought of his earlier dismissal that still burned in my chest. “As far as I’m concerned, you can have him.”
She gave me a disbelieving look.
The heat licking up my back forced me to my feet. “Congratulations . . . the mobster’s all yours.” My gaze narrowed. “Now, all you have to do is figure out how to keep him, because it doesn’t sound like you’ve been doing a very good job.”
Cheeks flaming, she jumped to her stilettos. Even with bare feet, I topped her by multiple inches. Considering the look in her eyes as she was forced to look up to meet my gaze, she hated it.
“You think I cannot keep him?” she asked derisively.
“Mamma,” Kat whispered, “is this passiveagressivness?”
“No, cara, this is just aggressiveness. Now, be quiet and pass me a pancake.”
A tense laugh escaped me. “Let me see . . .” I ticked each point off on my fingers. “One, you know nothing about him. Two, you’re so jealous you’re here harassing the captive he’s about to trade off like collateral. And three, you need a therapist. So no, I don’t think you can keep him. But I wish you all the luck.”
Over this in spades, I walked away, but a sharp tug on my hair drew me to a stop.
She. Pulled. My. Hair.
I gritted my teeth as a rage of resentment washed through me. Inhaling deeply, I decided to take the high road and walk—
“You are practically a slave here,” Nadia spit with malice. “I would like a drink. Fetch me one.”
What was the high road?
Without another thought, I grabbed a chunk of her ridiculously shiny hair and pulled, jerking her head to the side. She looked at me like she was the victim before a vicious fire filled her eyes. It was the next handful of my hair she pulled that made us lose balance and fall to the floor.
We knocked into the coffee table. Plates of food slid off and fell to the floor. Nadia grabbed a handful of porridge and smashed it into my T-shirt, growling, “I do not need therapist.”
“That’s the first thing nutcases say!” I straddled her and knocked her head into the floor.
“Ow! You amazon!” Nadia screeched, slapping me like a girl. “I cannot believe he would ever want you!”
“Go, Mila!” Kat cheered from the couch.
Nadia tugged my hair so hard it was like she was trying to rip out a chunk, forcing me to roll off her if I wanted to keep those strands.
“That tongue emoji was for you, was it not?” she asked, kicking me in the side with her stiletto.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, you psycho,” I growled, digging my nails into her wrist until she released my hair. Then I straddled her back and rubbed her face in the porridge on the floor.
“You bitch!” She turned her head so she didn’t suffocate in porridge. “Tomorrow cannot come soon enough.”
Something in the tone of her voice made me falter.
Noticing, she laughed. “You do not know? Tomorrow, you go—how do they say . . .?” When she figured it out, the words were a mocking titter. “Bye-bye.”
A coldness radiated from my chest to consume me whole. I barely felt someone drag me off Nadia.
“No, Dyadya,” Kat complained. “Things were just getting good.”
My feet dangled off the floor as Ronan held me by my waist. He was usually so warm, but now, his arm burned like an icy shackle. Sharp words were being exchanged, but the ringing in my ears drowned them out. My chest heaved from the exertion, though the anger was gone, leaving a cold detachment behind.
Nadia stood and wiped porridge from her face, her eyes glittering with malice. “She did not know,” she laughed, then a small pout appeared. “I hope it was not supposed to be a surprise.”
Ronan seethed, the fury vibrating in his chest.