Page 43

Her smile brightens, but something in it seems oddly hollow. I can’t explain it, only that it doesn’t seem to reach her eyes quite the way it did before. “So we’re staying?”

I look at her quizzically, reaching for my menu. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She nods quickly. “Yes. Thank you, Konstantin. It…” She swallows hard. “It means a lot to me.”

There’s something in her voice, some quirk of sound that almost seems like guilt, that I don’t quite understand. But I just nod, reaching for my own drink as the waiter returns with it. “I want to make you happy in the ways that I’m able to,” I tell her carefully. “I know not everything might be the marriage you hoped for. But I’ll do what I can.”

She nods, pausing for a moment as she glances over her menu. Then her eyes flick back up to me. “How much security is your father sending?”

I tilt my head slightly. “Why are you asking?”

Her lips press together. “I’m just curious. After what happened?—”

“Three or four, probably. They’ll be unobtrusive, I promise.”

Something flickers across her face—frustration? Concern? It's gone too quickly to name.

"Is that many necessary?" she asks, her tone carefully neutral.

"Someone tried to kill me yesterday. And the night before." I keep my voice low, mindful of the other diners. "So yes, I'd say it's necessary."

She nods, conceding the point. "Of course. I just thought...we handled it without anyone else. One or two extra security I could see, but…"

"We did." I lean forward slightly. "You handled it remarkably well, in fact."

The waiter returns, and we both put in our orders. I can see a hint of wariness in Sophia’s eyes this time when the waiter walks away.

"You don't trust me," she says softly, once we're alone again, and it's not a question.

I watch her steadily for a moment, considering lying. But she’s earned honesty at the very least, I think. "I don't trust anyone completely. It's how I've stayed alive this long."

"Not even your father?" There's genuine curiosity in her voice.

“Not even him,” I confirm. “There are always reasons not to trust someone, in this world. My father has power, power he’ll pass on to me someday. When someone has more power than you, you don’t trust them.”

Sophia’s eyebrow rises. “I don’t have more power than you.”

I take a sip of my wine, enjoying the complexity of it for a moment. It’s delicious, rich, and dry. “There are other reasons not to trust someone.”

Her fingers twitch against the stem of her glass, ever so slightly.

I set mine down. “Did you trust your father?”

She blinks at me, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Of course. Always.”

“What happened to him?” The question is blunt, almost cruelly so, I’m well aware. But I want her on the back foot, for a moment. I want her to not have time to think about her answers.

"He died when I was young." Her expression closes off slightly, and I recognize the look of genuine pain on her face. "Car accident."

It’s a lie. I feel certain of it, although I can’t be sure of why. I see her fingers twitch against her wine glass again. Her voice is a little too flat, her answer slightly too quick.

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly. “Really, Sophia. I am.”

“I’m sorry you brought it up.” She presses her lips together. “Have I done something wrong, Konstantin? Besides help to save your life twice?”

The way she says it, faintly accusing, makes me feel guilty for doubting her. “No,” I assure her, and it’s the truth. She hasn’t done anything wrong, not yet. It’s just a feeling. One that I’m obliged to follow up on.

She drops her gaze to her plate as the food arrives, and I have the feeling that I’ve hurt her. It’s a feeling that I don’t like, for reasons that I can’t entirely explain. She doesn’t say anything else as we dig into our food, and by the time we finish our meal, I’m almost convinced that I’ve made this all up in my head, and that I’ve done nothing but hurt my new wife with my unfounded suspicions.