22
IVAN
The knock at my office door is so soft that I almost don’t hear it at first.
Then the knob turns.
I assume it’s going to be one of the new maids. To save my staff from needing to interact with Francia quite so often, I hired a few extra sets of hands. They are young and skittish. I’m sure being ordered around by Francia all day has something to do with that. You have to be meek and mild to deal with her all day without committing homicide.
Instead of one of the new maids, however, my sister slips silently through the door.
“Anya? What are you doing?”
She quietly presses the door closed behind her and then turns to face me. “Avoiding your new roommate. She was in the sitting room. I had to crawl on my hands and knees through the entryway.”
“Since when do you knock on my office door?”
“Since I heard storming into your room uninvited is worthy of a death threat these days.”
I’m not surprised the story of me putting Francia in her place is making the rounds. I knew we had an audience. I’m glad we did. Francia might try to get her revenge, but at least everyone knows where I stand where she is concerned.
“I thought I told you to quit gossiping with my maids. Who do I need to fire?”
Anya smirks. “Niles.”
I fold my hands over my stomach and kick my feet up. “Bullshit.”
“I’m serious!” she insists. “It was Niles. He told me all about your little late night run-in with your darling betrothed.”
I shiver at the pet name. Francia is a lot of things, but she is sure as fuck not my darling anything.
“Even for you, that is impressive. You must have really worn him down to get that kind of gossip out of him.”
“Pfft, yeah right,” she snorts. “Niles couldn’t wait to tell me all about it. He might have even giggled a little bit.” She smiles at the memory, which is a welcome sight. There hasn’t been much to smile about for either of us in too long.
Then her smile fades. My sister shifts closer to my desk, her hand flat on the wooden top. “How are you doing?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?” She pulls back. “I’m worried about my brother.”
“You’re saying it like I’m terminal.”
“You are. Kind of.” She wags her brows playfully. “Terminally in love.” Just like she did as a kid, Anya makes kissy faces at me until she can’t help but laugh at herself.
I roll my eyes. “Are you done?”
“Done with the air kisses? Or done teasing you?” she asks. “Because I’m done with the air kisses for now. But I will be making fun of you every day for the rest of your life. Or my life. Whichever comes first.”
“If you don’t stop being annoying, then the end of your life is rapidly approaching.”
She grins, proud of herself, but holds up her hands in surrender. “How about this?” She leans forward, face flat and expressionless. In her most robotic voice, she asks, “How are you doing, IvanBot?”
“Better,” I declare. “And I’m okay. How are you?”
She sinks down into the leather chair across from my desk and sighs. “I’m okay, too. Scared, but we don’t have to talk about that. We’ll keep it light and fun. Otherwise, bored. I miss planning your wedding to Cora.”
“My fake wedding to Cora.”
She waves me away. “Yeah, yeah. I know it was all fake, but coming up with the designs and the colors was so fun. It felt real.”
It did. But it’s never going to happen. This is something even Anya won’t be able to charm into existence.
“You can help Francia with her planning. I’m sure there are ice sculptures to commission and you’ll need to give the Bolshoi Ballet time to choreograph a special number for the reception.”
“Don’t remind me,” she grumbles. “She’s left me three messages.”
“She actually called you?”
Anya nods. “She wants us to go out for lunch so we can ‘get to know each other.’ I’d rather gargle bleach. Also, I know plenty about her already. Like, I know she’s a fucking psychopath, for starters. I also know I wish she was dead.” She raises her brows in challenge. “Should I keep going?”
“You’re preaching to the choir, moya sestra.” I grimace. “If I’m not careful, she’s going to plan this entire wedding behind my back. I’ll walk out of my room one day and find myself in the middle of the ceremony.”
“I doubt it. She’d need help to plan a ceremony and she isn’t getting any of that from anyone around here. Niles said her breaking into your room sealed the deal for a lot of the staff. They hate her.”
“That could be a problem.”
Anya frowns. “How is that a problem? It’s a good thing. Francia is insane. Now, people realize that.”
“You’re right. She’s insane,” I say slowly. “Which means I don’t have any fucking idea what she’ll do when she realizes her plan isn’t working out. She could attack my staff. She could hurt Cora.”
“She wouldn’t do that.” Anya looks at me with wide eyes. “…Would she?”
“I can’t be certain,” I admit. “Which is why, aside from last night, I’ve tried to keep her calm. I need her to be placated so I can do what I need to do.”
She nods sadly. “That makes sense. If you need anything from me, just let me know. I’m happy to—” Anya stops when she sees my face. The offer to help lodges in her throat. Then she shakes her head vehemently. “Nope. Nuh-uh. No way. I didn’t mean it. I don’t want to help. Find someone else.”
“She already asked to meet up, Anya. It’s the perfect plan.”
“Yeah, except for the part where I have to be anywhere near Francia.”
“It wasn’t a question, Anya.”
My sister groans and melts out of her chair until her ass hits the floor. “This is going to be terrible.”
I nod. “Probably.”
“What if I take her for a drive and then pull over to stretch but forget to put the car in park and ‘accidentally’ send her over a cliff?”
“It’s a good plan up until the point where Alexander and Mikhail find out about her death and kill Cora in punishment.”
Anya snaps her fingers. “Dang. I’ll keep brainstorming.”
I lean over my desk and clap my sister on the shoulder. “You can brainstorm while you take Francia out to lunch and pick out some jewelry.”
“Jewelry? We’re going shopping together now, too?”
“Francia is like a dragon. Or whichever mythical creature likes shiny baubles. Point is, I want her to be so busy guarding her hoard that she doesn’t see me coming.”
“Fine. But I’m buying myself something, too.”
“Go for it,” I tell her.
“It’s going to be big. And expensive. Like, a necklace that needs its own private security. We’ll need to inform NASA of the purchase ‘cause they’ll be able to see it from space.”
“I’ll call the International Space Station right now and let them know.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “You’re no fun.”
“And you’re not getting out of this no matter how many threats you make.” I give her a tight smile. “Francia is currently in the sitting room, if you want to go make plans with her.”
Anya scowls and waves goodbye with one very specific finger.