13
CORA
I walk into Alexander’s office, but weirdly, it’s empty. I’m just starting to turn around in confusion when the door slams closed behind me.
“Whoa. What the—” I whip around to see he’s lurking next to the entrance like the boogeyman.
“You don’t have a knack for details.” He carves his way across the room towards his desk. “You are so focused on yourself that you don’t see the larger picture.”
I nod sarcastically. “You’re right. I’ve been way too self-centered during my abduction. How are you doing?”
His upper lip curls. “You’ve never understood the stakes, have you, Cordelia? Do you think I enjoy making you hate me?”
The silence goes on for so long that I realize he actually wants me to answer.
“Yes,” I say with a humorless laugh. “Yes, I do. I think you enjoy it very much.”
He sits back, his hands folded in his lap. “You’re wrong. You’re wrong about everything.”
“Then enlighten me!”
I’d love nothing more than for all of this to be some big misunderstanding. If Alexander revealed himself as the hero of this story and could justify all of his actions, I would be the first to shake his hand and ask for forgiveness.
But that isn’t going to happen.
Sometimes, the villain is just the villain. Simple as that.
“I have to marry you to the Sokolovs to form an alliance between our families,” he explains.
“Yeah, I gathered that much on my own. But thanks for the help.”
His nostrils flare, but he carries on. “When this all started, you were so young. Your mother and I decided that marrying Mikhail Sokolov was the best thing for you. He would be able to take care of you and give you a comfortable life.”
“I didn’t want to marry him!”
“You didn’t know what you wanted!” he snapped. “If I’d let you do what you wanted, you would have ended up a pregnant slut with no prospects.”
I blink at him. “You’re… you’re kidding, right? I didn’t even have my first kiss until I was eighteen!”
He leans in with a smile. “You’re welcome. I kept you safe, Cordelia. The same way I protected your mother.”
“Brainwashed my mother, you mean.”
“Call it what you want, but the two of you were days away from eating out of a garbage can when I took you in,” he snarls. “I vowed to take care of you both, so that is what I did. Mikhail was a good choice. But then you fucked everything up.”
“I saved myself.”
“You embarrassed the Sokolov family!” he roars. “Do you have any fucking idea how much damage you caused? I got you connected to the only son of one of the richest men in the city and you ran off on him.”
I roll my eyes. “Then Mikhail’s daddy should have found him another willing wifey. There were plenty who would’ve waltzed in with eyes open.”
“Not for men like that.” He shakes his head. “You embarrassed him. The only way to right the wrong was to get you back. If Mikhail wanted to recover his reputation, he needed you to come back on your knees.”
“Yeah, well, don’t count on it.”
“You still don’t—” He growls in frustration. “I was building a career before you threw everything away. When you disappeared, I had to start over from nothing. You didn’t just ruin Mikhail’s reputation; you destroyed my good name.”
“What good name?” I spit.
Before the words are even fully out of my mouth, Alexander’s hand cracks across my face.
“Watch how you talk to me, Cordelia. I don’t stand for disrespect.”
He shakes out his hand like it stings a bit. I want to ask if my face hurt his hand, but I don’t feel like getting slapped twice before I’ve even had a sip of coffee.
“I’ve done well for myself while you were away,” he says. “In some ways, you leaving helped. I talked to everyone imaginable trying to find you and it put me in touch with all kinds of people: lawyers, doctors, politicians. I have info on everyone. And information sells.”
“If that’s true, you wouldn’t need to sell me,” I mumble.
He narrows his eyes in warning. “Well, there’s a limit to who I can sell that kind of thing to. People like Konstantin Sokolov aren’t going to trust just anyone. They like to keep things in the family. So creating a foothold there would be helpful. Plus, you were promised to Mikhail, Cordelia. What good am I if I don’t prove myself to be a man of my word?”
“So all of this—tracking me down, holding me prisoner, marrying me off to Mikhail—this is all so you can be a professional gossip?”
“Fixer,” he corrects icily. “I’m a political fixer. It’s a whole lot more than gossip. I clean up messes. I take care of problems.”
I feel his eyes on me. He doesn’t need to say I am a problem he will take care of in order for me to understand that is exactly what he means.
“The job is underworld-adjacent, given the somewhat questionable favors I have to pull from time to time. But I don’t want to work near the Sokolovs; I want to work with them. I’m seeking a promotion.”
I snort. “Entering into a life of crime is a real step up. Congratulations.”
He leans back, relaxed now. Slapping me must have consumed some of the rage he’d been carrying. “You have no vision, Cordelia.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Stop living in a fantasy,” he bites back. “Your name is Cordelia. You’re marrying Mikhail Sokolov. These are the realities of your life and the sooner you come to terms with them, the better off you’ll be.”
I stand tall and proud. “I’m going to escape and live free again. The sooner you come to terms with that, the better off you’ll be.”
Alexander arches a graying brow. “Are you still waiting for Ivan to come and save you?”
“No.”
Yes.
I wish I didn’t, though. I want to cut that useless hope out of me, but I don’t know how. Some part of me will always be waiting for him, I think. Some part of me will always believe.
“You’re a terrible liar, Cordelia. I can see it in your eyes. You think Ivan Pushkin is going to rescue you.” He shrugs lazily. “Maybe he’ll try. He’s put forward more of an effort than I thought he would. He bartered on your behalf.”
I frown. “He has?”
The crack in my facade allows a flood of baseless hopes to come rushing in. Maybe his relationship with Francia is all part of some deal. Maybe everything he has done is to keep me safe.
“Ivan is as good as pakhan in the Pushkin Bratva now,” Alexander says, ignoring my question. “The fact that you have a connection to him is useful for me. It gives me some leverage there.”
“No one has leverage over Ivan. He’ll destroy you.”
He turns to me, eyes narrowed. “Then why are you here with me instead of there with him?”
Alexander thinks he has made a good point. I can tell by the smug expression on his face that he thinks he has won.
But the only reason I’m not with Ivan right now is because I chose to leave.
I found out about Katerina going missing and I doubted him. I threw away everything I’d learned about Ivan in a second and fled from him and his house—right into the arms of the people I ran from in the first place.
This is all my fault.
Alexander sighs and waves me towards the door. “Go eat and shower. You look like a wreck.”
“I didn’t realize my prison cell had a dress code.”
“Oh, it doesn’t. But the cameras are unforgiving.” An oily smile slips across his face.
I don’t want to give him the satisfaction of asking, but I can’t stop myself. If there are cameras in my bedroom or somewhere else in the house, I need to know. “What cameras?”
“You’re going to go shopping with your mother. A proper girl’s day out so you can pick out some new clothes.”
“I have clothes upstairs.”
“Clothes you left hanging in favor of jeans and a t-shirt.” His lip curls in distaste. “I’ll have the staff wrestle you into dresses if I must, but I’m going to be kind and let you pick something you might like.”
I want to laugh in his face. Sending me dress shopping with my mom is the furthest thing from kind. It’s actually a nightmare.
“Then,” he continues, “you and Mikhail have a lunch date.”
“In public?”
People. Freedom. I could escape. I could yell for help, and—
“Unfortunately, poor Jorden won’t be joining you,” Alexander adds. “She’s… occupied.”
There it is. The not-so-subtle reminder of why I won’t be escaping anytime soon.
They’ll kill her if I try.
“I’m here,” I tell him icily. “You are holding me prisoner and I’m going to marry Mikhail. Why do we have to parade around the city together? Isn’t this enough? Is your victory over me not complete until you’ve rubbed my nose in it?”
“Not everything is about you, Cordelia,” he drawls. “This is tactical. The more people who see that my prodigal daughter has returned home, the harder it will be for Ivan to make a move.”
Is that a concern? Does he think Ivan might come to rescue me? If so, he might as well save his worry. Ivan isn’t coming for me.
These men are going to use me as a pawn in their own greedy games.
Unless I make it stop.
Just like he did at the start of breakfast, Alexander claps his hands again. “Now, go. I’m busy.”
I give my stepfather one final look before I leave his office. He’s regal behind his desk, comfortable and relaxed. Nothing about my presence unsettles him. He doesn’t think I’m capable of fighting back.
Good.
When I do, he’ll never see it coming.