Page 27 of Cruel Romeo

She was twelve when she dropped off the face of the Earth. No one knew what happened to her, or whether she was even still alive.

But now,Iknow.

And I’m not letting such a juicy prize off with a warning.

“That’s not all, Petyr,” Ivan keeps pressing. “We need to figure out how to?—”

Finally, my patience thins. I cut off Ivan’s monologue with a curt, “Handle Boris. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

I end the call and sit there for a second, letting it settle. My new bride is Sima Danilo. The missing Danilo daughter. The one everyone thought had been kidnapped, or worse, killed.

That photo… I remember it. I’d seen it everywhere back when the story first broke. It was impossible to turn the TV on without being assaulted by that little girl’s dark gaze, so much older than her age.

I know anger. Been intimately acquainted with it my whole life. And those eyes? They’re filled to the brim with it. Rage, fury, a thirst for vengeance by any means possible.

But a little girl has no means. So she did the only thing she could: escaped.

Even then, I’d thought her disappearance was suspicious. Nikolai Danilo, losing a daughter? With the kind of security he kept around the house? I couldn’t imagine anyone bold enough—or stupid enough—to try to snatch her, let alone succeed. Frankly, it would have made more sense if he’d just killed her himself.

Or sold her off for parts.

Turns out, she wasn’t dead at all. She was on the run. Right here, under our noses, deep in Gubarev territory.Myterritory.

My lips curve into a smirk.

I don’t know what I’m going to do with this information yet. I have some ideas, but I’ll figure out the specifics later. For now, the less people know, the better.

As if on cue, the door swings open behind me. I shut my laptop before I even see who it is. “Kira.”

She folds her arms, eyes narrowed. “So you brought a stranger into my house. I’ll be honest, I would have preferred a mangy stray. Though I suppose we’re basically talking about the same thing.”

My chair screeches as I rise abruptly. “I’ve always respected you, Kira. You know that as much as I do. But keep talking shit about my wife, and we’re gonna have a problem.”

She takes a respectful step back, holds up her hands in a pacifying gesture. “Fine. I won’t piss where you’ve already left a puddle. But she’s still a stranger, Petyr.”

“She’s my wife.”

“That doesn’t mean shit, and you know it.”

“I didn’t have time for a long engagement. You can ring for tea and get better acquainted with her, if that's what you’d like.”

Kira’s lips press into a thin line. I get the feeling there’s nothing she’d want less than sip tea and chat with my new better half. Must not have hit it off during the tour. “You know what this house meant to Dimitri. Tome.We were supposed to live here. Raise a family here. Now, that’s all gone, and I know it’s not your fault, but—” Her voice cracks before recovering. “It’s disrespectful, Petyr. It just is.”

I flex my jaw. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“No. But you took it.” She turns her head to the side, as if to hide tears. “And now, her, too? Seriously?”

I look at her. Reallylook. She’s exhausted, angry, grieving. She’s right, too: This wasn’t supposed to be her life. My father always meant for Dimitri to take over the throne. To becomepakhan.

Not me. Never me.

But Dimitri’s hooked up to a thousand machines, breathing tubes and feeding tubes and his doctor knows what else, and it’s not looking good. He isn’t expected to wake up.

So the weight of all this—the house, the title, the legacy—it’s on my shoulders now. No one else’s.

“You don’t have to worry about being set aside.” I do her the kindness of pretending I don’t see her tears. “You’re family. No matter what happens, you will always be family. I may not be able to give you what my brother planned to, but Iwilllook out for you. Always. You got that?”

Kira sniffles. She gives me a look I can’t quite decipher. Like she’s weighing my words, wondering whether she’d be a fool to believe them.