Page 6 of Beloved Bride

Page List


Font:  

Oh, Viktor.From all I’ve seen, Viktor is an excellent father, especially in terms of men in the various crime families. But telling Yelena that there was danger at home and she was being brought here because of it, might not have been the best choice. I know he meant it to ensure that she knew the seriousness of the situation. She’sseven, I think to myself as I hold her close, letting her sniffle and cry against my shirt as I rub her back and soothe her.

“She’s already calmed down a lot,” Sasha mouths, nodding at the little girl. “Since you came in.”

I feel a flush of warmth at that, only adding to the feeling that I’ve had since Yelena crawled into my arms. I’ve always loved children, wanted to nurture and teach and care for them, others as well as my own. I love both of these girls, even if Anika has an unmatched attitude, and I want to keep them safe. The fact that Yelena trusts me means more to me than I can say.

I also know that it means I can’t leave, no matter what happens between Viktor and me. These girls have lost one mother already, and I can tell just from Yelena’s reaction to me leaving for the business trip with Viktor that she, at the very least, would be devastated if I left for good. And I think that Anika might be too, as well as she would hide it.

Viktor and I will have to work something out. I’d always known I would have a marriage of convenience, and I knew I might not like my husband. This should be no different. Even if it makes things more difficult that Idodesire him, that’s my own burden to shoulder. In time, I’m sure it will fade.

I glance up at Sasha, who is kneeling on the carpet now, watching Yelena concernedly as she sniffles and hiccups against my chest. The girl is astonishingly beautiful, with that rich strawberry blonde hair and bright green eyes, slender and elegant like a dancer. I think of everything that Viktor told me that happened to her, and I can’t help but be astonished that she’s still as composed as she is, considering. I think of everything that’s happened to me, Franco, my kidnapping, my torture, and how close to the edge of collapse I came. And Sasha wasn’t raised in this life like I was. She didn’t grow up with the knowledge of violence, even if I was sheltered from a great deal of it.

Or maybe she did. I remember what Viktor said–she was on the verge of aging out of the foster care system–and I wonder how bad that is, exactly, in Russia. Maybe her life, even before Viktor picked her up, was much worse than I, someone who has been pampered for most of my life, can imagine.

Regardless, I can’t help but be impressed by her ability to adapt to her circumstances and remain at least outwardly positive, despite everything. She’s looking at Yelena with genuine care and affection, even though Yelena’s father is directly responsible for a great deal of what happened to Sasha. And she treats me with a sort of kind respect, without any resentment, even though I’m Viktor’s wife. It’s not fear, either–I’ve never seen anything to indicate that she’s afraid of me.

Yelena has fallen asleep on my chest by that point, and I slowly get to my feet, carrying her over to her bed and laying her gently on top of it. Sasha hands me a knitted throw blanket, and I put it over her, tucking the edges in around her shoulders as the small girl curls into a ball, still fast asleep.

“If she wakes up and needs me, come and get me,” I whisper as Sasha and I step outside. She nods, and I hesitate, wanting to ask her questions and unsure if I should.

“Mrs. Andreyev? Is there something else?”

I hesitate, looking at her. “I–” I take a breath, wondering how to say what I want to ask. “How do you feel about my husband, Sasha? I know what happened to you, why you’re here. You don’t have to mince words with me. I won’t be angry with you.”

There’s a flicker of fear in Sasha’s eyes anyway, and that alone tells me I won’t get an entirely truthful answer–but it’s hard to blame her. “I’m very appreciative of the place he’s given me here,” she says quietly. “And that he took revenge for me.”

“You don’t hate him?” I look at her, wishing more than anything that I could get her to speak plainly to me. “He’s the reason you’re here, that all of that happened to you.”

Sasha hesitates, licking her lips nervously. “Your husband is a man who does evil things,” she says finally, looking away. “But I don’t think that he, in and of himself, is an evil man. I think that he believes he is making do with the choices that were given to him, as we all do.”

“That’s very generous, especially when he’s brought you back here, to your home, but you’re still a part of his household.”

“My choices here were not good either,” she says quietly. “That doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t have liked the opportunity to make them for myself. But that’s not the way life worked for me, is it? And it’s better now than it could have been.”

“So you wouldn’t have liked what he had intended for you? A place in a prince’s harem?”

Sasha shrugs, her mouth twitching slightly. “How should I know? I’ve never been a prince’s mistress, and now I never will. But I do know that my place in Mr. Andreyev’s household is better than what I might have had. I just wish I had chosen it for myself.” She shrugs again, looking shyly up at me. “Does that answer your questions, Mrs. Andreyva?”

“You can call me Caterina,” I tell her gently. “We don’t need to be so formal–”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate,” she says firmly. “But I’m glad to know that you care.” She pauses. “Maybe one day it will have an influence on your husband.” She takes a step back then, her shoulders tensing as if she’s afraid she’s said too much. “I’ll let you know if Yelena needs you again.”

“Okay,” I say quietly. “Thank you.”

I glance towards the door as Sasha disappears down the hall, thinking of the small girl sleeping inside and the one down the hall, fighting for her life.

I can’t help but continue to hope that I could somehow have an influence on Viktor–if only for them. If only so they don’t grow up and one day have to come to terms with the same thing that I did–that my father was a man who I loved…and also a man who did evil things.


Tags: M. James Erotic