Page 28 of Silent Ties (Ruling Love #1)

Russet

I hold up a hand, blocking Max. “I spent half-hour on my hair. Do not mess it up.”

His eyes narrow at the challenge, but I hold my ground. He drops his hand, the picture of innocence as he backs out of the bathroom.

He comes back a second later. “Let me see your panties.”

Laughing, I stop his attack. He manages to bunch my dress up my waist.

“We don’t have time.”

“It’s my birthday,” he reminds.

Which is exactly why we’re going to his parent’s house. There’s a small get-together to celebrate the twins. It turns out getting Max and Roma at the same family event is a big deal. Normally, Roma is the one who fucks off, but Max is still keeping his distance from his mom.

He didn’t want us to go, and when his father ordered him to make an appearance, he offered to let me stay at home.

I’m not thrilled at the idea of coming face-to-face with Yelena, but I need to get used to it. With Max at my side, and Elijah and Roma as my allies, I’m not afraid .

“We will be late,” I say.

His hands find my purple lace panties. I try to shimmy out of the way, my stomach flipping when he pulls me back to him.

“A kiss,” he demands.

“You’re needy.”

He catches my lips and I’m glad I haven’t applied any lipstick yet.

I shove him away. “We will be late.”

“It’s my party.”

“At your father’s.”

“He won’t care.”

“Your grandmother will.”

He sighs but doesn’t put up a fight. It’s one thing to piss off Lev, it’s another to piss off Irina.

“Yeah, all right.” He goes into the closet to find some shoes. He comes back out to find me in the foyer, gathering things. “What’s that?”

I hold up a gift bag. “For Roma.”

He frowns. “Why?”

“Because it’s his birthday.”

“Why’d you get him two?” He points to the bag in my other hand.

“It’s for you.”

He runs an eye down my body. “But that’s not what I requested.”

Cheeks burning, I turn toward the door. “What you requested will not be occurring in front of your family.”

He grabs Roma’s gift and tries to get the other one. I refuse, not letting him hold it.

“What is this?” He snoops in Roma’s bag.

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” He lifts an eyebrow as we enter the elevator. “You got Roma whiskey. ”

“Your dad said it’s his favorite.” I thought that wasn’t very patriotic toward his Russian heritage, but who am I to judge?

“Huh,” he says under his breath. “And when did you talk to my father?”

“Yesterday when I asked you what to get Roma and you said that dickhead deserves nothing and we should skip the party.” In typical fashion, I’d texted the question and received a phone call with his response. I rolled my eyes and promptly phoned Lev the moment I ended the call.

“I thought it was just a family thing,” I say when we arrive. Cars fill the circular driveway.

“I told you,” he said.

“Roma’s gonna hate this.”

He parks in the garage like always, preferring to sneak in through the kitchen. “Quit worrying about my brother. He’s fine.”

“I’m worried about you too.”

He opens his car door, silently telling me if I cared, I wouldn’t have dragged him to this debacle.

Elijah is the first person we see. And right next to him is the most adorable dog I’ve ever seen.

“I love you,” I tell Albert the Bernese mountain dog.

Elijah smirks, twirling his glass of amber-colored liquor. “Did you get me a present?”

Max slaps the back of his head. “It’s not your birthday.”

He pouts. “I’m not above bribery.”

Lev sneaks up, taking the opportunity to also slap the back of his head. “Not in this family, we aren’t.”

He gives me a hug, kissing both cheeks. When he steps back, Max is scowling.

“Good to see you too, son.” He throws an arm around his shoulder.

Max shakes him off and grabs my hand. “We’re leaving.”

Irina pops up, taking ahold of my other hand. “You can leave all you want, but we’re keeping her.”

I hear Roma’s voice before I hear it. “Is that Russ?”

Max scrubs at his face. “You’re all a bunch of annoying fucks, you know that?”

“Happy birthday, dear brother,” Roma says when he rounds the corner.

I rarely see him in the flesh, though we text often. He’s the most casual, a pair of jeans and a shirt. He and Dima shirk button-downs, a staple favorite of the other Zimin men. His hair is longer than Max’s and not styled. His smile is warm, though, and he gives me a side hug.

Max pushes him away.

“All right enough.” Lev corrals his sons up the stairs, the furry dog weaving between their ankles.

“Thank goodness.” Irina sighs. She’s as cute as ever, in a floor-length dress and her gray curly hair. Her eyes blink behind a pair of thick eyeglasses.

After my lunches with Yelena ended, Max went with me a few times. Then one day I arrived at the restaurant and found Irina staring at the case of desserts.

She held her arms out wide. “This is amazing. Let’s start with dessert!”

And that’s why Max’s grandmother is now my favorite.

We eat lunch together almost weekly, but it’s not ever at stuffy restaurants.

There’s a cozy bistro which is her favorite, but most of the time we eat at one another’s homes.

She’s got a place in the city, adamantly refusing to live with her sons, though, they both keep suggesting it. She likes her independence.

Not only is Irina warm and friendly, but she’s hilarious. She likes to bake and she’s teaching me Russian recipes.

As we bake, she speaks to me in Russian, helping my skills. I rattle off vocabulary words, but I’d like to think it’s helping. If anything it’s nice knowing Irina is my number one cheerleader.

We poke around the kitchen, eating finger food that’s not made its way upstairs. A few close friends of the Zimin’s were also invited, but I’m told it’s a much smaller affair than normal.

“Is Lennie here?” I ask.

Irina blinks behind her thick glasses. “Lennie?”

I nod, breathing in deep. God, the food smells great.

“You know Lennie?”

“I met her at our wedding party,” I explain. “I don’t know her very well, but you said close friends of the family are here. Aren’t Boris and Lev close?”

She smiles but for the first time, it doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yes. Absolute trouble those two. But no, Lennie’s not here tonight.”

Before anything else is said, I’m ushered upstairs. Yelena sits on the couch, but I ignore her. Max and his brothers aren’t in sight which probably means they’re up to no good.

I find myself back in the same bathroom Yelena slapped the shit out of me. I’m washing my hands when Daisy’s name flashes on my phone.

My eyes bug out and I turn toward the door. The hallway was quiet and I doubt there’s someone pressing their ear up against the door. Nerves crawl down my skin anyway.

“H-hello,” I answer quietly.

“Russie.” Daisy’s voice is clear and earnest. “Thank fuck you actually answered the phone.”

“Are you okay?” Why is she calling me when she never picks up the phone? Something occurs to me. “Did Marissa take your phone away from you?”

She snorts on the other end of the line. She’s awfully jovial considering her circumstances. “No.”

“Then why haven’t you been answering?” I whisper, conscious of whose house I’m in. “I tried to get in contact with you.”

“Why haven’t you come to see me?” she counters.

“Where the fuck are you?” I whisper-shout.

“You know where—Marissa’s.”

Fuck’s sake. “She’s keeping you at the bar?”

On paper, it’s a bar. In reality, it functions more as a brothel. Marissa conducts business out of it and launders most of her money through it.

“Is she making you?” I suck in a breath. Good lord, Marissa wouldn’t pimp her out? I already know the answer, though.

“No,” Daisy quickly replies. “I’m fine seriously.”

“Then why is she keeping you at the bar?”

“The same bar you used to bartend at?”

Only for about a year. Nancy called Tyler and he forced me out. I couldn’t even pretend to be unhappy about it. A shiver goes down my spine at the memory of the place.

“That was a long time ago,” I tell her. “And I wasn’t pregnant!”

“It’s not like I’m drinking. Also, just so you know, I rolled my eyes.”

“So in other words you’re fine.” I know it’s a lie even as I say it.

Something like a sigh drifts down the line. “Well. . . things could be better.”

“What’s going on?”

“It’s this Ghost guy.”

I stifle a groan. Of course.

“Do you know anything about him?” Daisy asks.

My fingers curl tightly around the phone but otherwise, I remain still. “A little,” I admit after a minute.

“He’s coming after Marissa hard.”

Am I supposed to feel bad about that ?

“He’s fucked with her supply of drugs and alcohol. And now the feds are nosing around even more than normal.”

“I thought he was a triggerman.”

If he’s after Marissa then he’d put a bullet through her head. Why’s he going after her business?

“Yeah, weird right.” There’s a long pause and then, “So do you know anything about him?”

“No.” My heart breaks knowing this is the only reason she called me. “I don’t have anything on him. I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“Come on, Russie,” Daisy pleads. “You know Marissa will make my life hell.”

Isn’t she already?

“Even if it’s just tidbits,” she says.

“I don’t have any.”

“So what? No pillow talk.”

It’s not just unease crawling over me. I catch a glimpse of my wrinkled nose in the mirror. Something about how she says it makes me hate her.

“Max doesn’t talk about business.”

“Oh, right. Marissa says you live in a really nice penthouse now.”

I don’t say anything.

“So I guess, it all worked out okay.”

“Why would you say that?” I ask slowly. And why would she say it like that?

“What?” Daisy’s words are increasingly bitter. “I’m just saying, you crapped on me all the time when I did escorting. But I guess spreading your legs for a mafia prince is different. Bet he buys you nice stuff too.”

“You don’t know. . .” I take a deep breath. “It wasn’t just happily ever after. I married a stranger because you asked for my help.”

“And now what? You’re too good to help me anymore? ”

Despite my rising frustration at Daisy’s crappy mood, I direct my rage towards the true villain—Marissa. “Is she doing stuff to you?”

She doesn’t respond right away.

“Daisy?” With the phone still to my ear I glance at the door worried someone’s in the hallway.

“No,” she says. I can’t tell if she’s lying.

Maybe it’s because we’re talking on the phone or because it’s been over seven months since I’ve seen her last, but I’m struggling to decipher my best friend.

“Daisy, what if I can help you?” I don’t want to get her hopes up, but this has gone on too long.

I make out a sniffle. “If you want to help, dig up dirt on the Ghost. Please.”

Daisy doesn’t need to get caught up any more than she already has in Marissa’s bullshit.

“Please for me. . . and the baby.”

You could try saving the baby.

Icy claws dig into my chest at the thought. Marissa will take your baby away from you, I want to yell. She’s not protecting you. She wants you fucking punished!

None of these comments make it out of my mouth. I’ve had years of arguing with Daisy to understand how stubborn she is. How can she not see the writing on the wall, though?

“Okay,” I say quietly, staring at my stilettos. “Yeah, I’ll try.”

Just not in the way she thinks. I’m going to help Daisy get out of Marissa’s clutches once and for all.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” she chirps. “You’re going to be the best auntie yet. Love you.”

She hangs up quickly, but not before I hear scuffling on the other end of the phone. I wouldn’t be surprised if Gloria stood right next to her while she called.

A glum, gnawing ache lingers in the pit of my stomach.