Wicked Mafia Prince (A Dangerous Royals Romance, #2)(27)

Aleksio explains the big picture to her more carefully, as if she didn’t understand the first time. Tanechka purses her lips. Tanechka is annoyed. I exchange amused glances with Yuri—we’re both seeing it.

“Yes, Aleksio, I understand. I care nothing of your ceiling. These women alone. They care nothing for your ceiling.”

Aleksio stiffens. “We’re maximizing our effect.”

“Maximizing your effect,” she spits.

Mischa bites his lip. Pityr beams. This nun, unwilling to accept our obstacles, our explanations. She doesn’t understand why it can’t be stopped now. She sees girls in trouble. Go, take them out. That’s her attitude. Have your cake and eat it too. Fuck everything. So Tanechka.

I set down my glass. “Would you have us shutting it down in a violent way, then? Would you like that instead?”

“A false choice,” she says. “There are more options than those two.”

“Maybe pray?” I challenge.

“You tell the police and trust in that. You find the good ones and tell them.”

“Police,” I sniff. A comment like that is beyond childish. Tanechka would never say it.

“The police are there for a reason,” she says.

“The police are for rent in this town,” I say. “Have you heard nothing of what Aleksio said? It’s not so different in Russia. You just don’t remember.”

She gives me a challenging look. She’ll have none of my shit. It warms my heart.

She turns to Mira at one point. She’s rightly identified her as a possible ally. “Surely there’s an Orthodox church here in Chicago.”

“You’re not going to a f*cking church,” I say.

“They’d let me contact my sisters in the convent.”

“So will I,” I say. “As soon as you change out of that nun costume.”

“I told you I won’t.”

“Well then,” I say.

An awkward silence falls over the table. Yuri tries with more stories of Sky World, but the fun is lost.

Later in the kitchen Mira scolds me, tells me that this is a horrible choice I’ve left Tanechka with.

I shrug. “It’s done.”

“What if I call her convent?” she says. “You said she couldn’t, but I could.”

“If she cares about talking to her sisters there, she’ll change out of her nun clothes.”

“You’re pushing her. You’re making her dig in. And you’re acting like a jackass. Why would she even want to remember anything if you’re the guy she’d end up with?”

I grab the box from Petrovsky’s and begin to arrange the orehi on a colorful plate.

“What are those?”

“Nuts, we call them. Orehi. Cookie dough with brown custard inside. A silly child’s treat, but Tanechka loved them.”

“She won’t give in on the clothes now.”

“I know.” I know it better than Mira.

“So stop trying to make her change by taking things away from her,” she says. “Why not give her things she loves instead?”

“What do you think I’m doing?” I press my fists to the cool marble counter. “What is this dinner? This whole place?”

“She didn’t choose this, you did. If you give a little, maybe she’ll give a little.”

“This is the lawyer talking?” Mira’s a lawyer, starting a new practice in Chicago these days. She loves the law. Not so convenient for Aleksio, but their love is strong.

“No, it’s your friend talking, telling you not to be an *. Think about letting me call her people at least. Tito says she gave him the number. I could call and let them know she’s okay.”

I say nothing.

“Maybe letting those sisters know she’s okay will help her relax. You want her to let go of that life, but don’t you see? Worry makes her cling. Yanking things away makes her hold tightly.”

“I know,” I grumble. “Okay, do it. I’ll send in Tito. And Mischa in case you need translation.”

“Good man.”

I storm out feeling angry and upset. “Dessert,” I say, setting down the plate in the waning candlelight. I tell Tito and Mischa that Mira wants them.

Yuri and Pityr are excited. We didn’t so much love orehi—far too sweet for us—but we would tease Tanechka about it. We start passing around the plate. Everybody takes one or two. I set three on the small side plate in front of Tanechka.

“Are these Petrovsky’s?” Pityr asks.

“Yes,” I say. All of us fight not to stare at Tanechka. She doesn’t recognize the orehi, though. This I can see.

Mira and Mischa come out a few minutes later. Mira announces she called Tanechka’s convent.

Tanechka stands, stunned. “Will you let me speak to them?”

“I hung up, but Mother Olga has a message for you. They’re all healthy and well, and something about a rooster looking forward to seeing you.”

Tanechka tears up. “Petushik,” she whispers. “What else?”

“They’re happy to hear you’re okay, Tanechka. They were worried.”

Mischa nods. “They sounded good. Well.”

“What about the fighting on the border? The attacks—there was an old guard, and he was not so strong. You’re sure they’re okay?”