Satin Princess(49)



ANTON





“This trifle is delicious,” Jessa says, holding up her spoon so that she can see all the individual layers. She’s gazing at it like it’s a work of art, inspecting each element, tearing it apart to taste everything individually and together.

It’s hilarious how into food this girl is. But passion for something so simple, so mundane, turns it into anything but that. It becomes magical in her eyes.

And what’s magic in her eyes becomes magic in mine.

“Is that jam?” she asks, turning to Margaret.

“A thin layer, yes,” Margaret says. “And just underneath it is my home-made custard. It’s a family recipe, actually.”

“It tastes like manna from heaven. I have to be honest, I’m not usually a fan of trifle. But this one is converting me.”

“I could show you the recipe, if you like.”

Jessa’s eyes widen in unabashed hope. “Really? Do you mean it? I’d love that!”

Margaret winks. “Thomas and I are heading to the farmer’s market in the morning, but when we get back, class is in session.”

“Farmer’s market?” Jessa asks, perking up like a meerkat.

Margaret’s grin widens. “Would you like to join us?”

Jessa turns to me, as though she needs my permission. Once upon a time, that kind of subservience was exactly what I wanted from her. Just follow fucking orders, for once in your goddamn life.

But now? Now, it troubles me in a way I can’t explain.

“That sounds like a good idea,” I say.

“We leave pretty early,” Margaret says, looking doubtful.

“I’ll be up before the sun!” Jessa promises.

Margaret and Thomas both laugh. “Six o’clock will be good enough,” he says with a fond smile.

I’m not surprised to see that she’s won them over already. With that smile and the sparkle in her eyes, it’s hard to see how anyone can resist her.

“This dinner was an unexpected pleasure,” Thomas sighs as the waiters come in to clear away our plates. “I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Me, too,” Jessa concurs. “So tell me, does this market have…”

Jessa is still talking a mile a minute about the farmer’s market tomorrow when my phone starts to ring. I excuse myself and leave the dining room. There’s a small annex that leads to the gardens and I head that way to take the call.

“What is it, Yulian?”

“Just checking in,” he says.

“Any news for me?”

“Nothing as of yet. But I’ve got eyes everywhere. We’re bound to stumble across a lead soon.”

“Stumble?” I repeat. “Do better than ‘stumble,’ Yulian.”

“What I mean is—”

“I need you to take this seriously. So far, I’m not impressed.”

He’s silent for only a second or two, but it’s a heavy silence. An anxious one. “I am taking this seriously, Anton. I always have.”

I know I’m being hard on him, but I can’t help it. His mistakes have big consequences. The kind that can’t be undone. The kind that bleed.

“What I meant was, we’re bound to find a lead any day now. I’ve got all my men on it.”

“You mean you have all my men on it,” I remind him.

“Yes, Anton, that’s what I mean.”

I sigh. “I don’t want this search letting up until we have her.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Good. Keep me posted. I want daily updates.”

“I’ll do that.” But he lingers on the phone, breathing nervously.

“Anything else?” I ask.

“How’s Jessa?”

I frown. “She’s fine.”

“She overdoes it sometimes. You might want to make sure she gets some rest,” he continues.

“I know how to handle my business, Yulian,” I say through gritted teeth.

“She’s not exactly business, though, is she, brother?”

Is he goading me right now? Or maybe there’s nothing there and I’m just reading into it, just angling for a fight with my brother.

Maybe I’ve been gunning down this path since I found out just how badly he fucked up with ensuring Marina’s story was ended with finality.

“She is whatever I say she is.”

“She’s carrying your child.”

“I realize she’s carrying my child, Yulian,” I hiss. “Why do you think I’m fucking invested? Why do you think I’m doing all this shit?”

I hear an intake of breath and turn around just in time to see Jessa’s skirts as she disappears up the darkened path that leads back to the house.

Fuck. How long was she standing there?

Long enough, it seems. Another thing I can thank my brother for. Add it to the goddamn list. He’s still rambling on the other end, oblivious to the chaos he’s causing. I hang up on him mid-sentence.

The fight has drained out of me. Ironic, considering it looks like I’m going to get one tonight anyway.

Just not the one I saw coming.

I head back into the house to find Margaret waiting for me by the staircase.

Nicole Fox's Books