33. Natalia

33

NATALIA

"Nat, please. Just open the door—the window, even! I just want to talk."

Talk about déjà vu. Not so long ago, I was in this exact same position with Kat. What is it with me and the people I'm drawn to? I sure know how to pick 'em, don't I?

The longer I think about it, the louder the little voice in my head gets. It's you. You're the problem.

"Natalia!"

My hands crash down hard on the piano keys. The chord that comes out is so cringeworthy that I immediately apologize out loud to the instrument.

This piano deserves better.

I abandon my attempt to play and walk over to the stereo, fully prepared to put on some music and drown Mila out. But she's still shouting at the top of her lungs, and not even Bon Jovi at his best could top that.

"Okay, I know it was a dirty, rotten, no-good, lowdown thing to do. But I thought—at the time—it was harmless. I didn't know you. I figured spending time with you and letting Andrey know how you were doing wasn't such a big deal, y'know? It wasn't that bad, right?" She groans. "But then I did get to know you, and I really, really like you. But I'd already agreed to report back to Andrey. Plus, he was just using my info to give you nice presents. Is that such a crime?"

My hand is poised over the play button, but I can't bring myself to start the music.

"And yes, I had something to gain from agreeing to do what he wanted me to do. I had to look out for myself, Nat. You know my position. I just?—"

I'm as shocked as Mila seems to be when I lean forward and wrench open the window. " What did you have to gain?" I demand.

"Uh, well…" She looks around surreptitiously, no doubt trying to determine just how many shadows are lurking in the darkness with their ears peeled. "Can… can I come in so we can finish talking?"

"No."

"Okay. That's fine." She fidgets in place. "Andrey is basically my… my shield, I guess you'd call it."

"Is that Bratva speak? Because I don't get it."

She takes another cursory glance over her shoulder. "You know who I'm married to."

"Yes. We've crossed paths," I say coldly.

"Well, he's been cheating on me since the night we got married."

It's a little harder to maintain my frigid composure. But I do my best. It's not that I'm biting back jaw-dropping surprise—leopards don't change their spots, after all, and cheaters don't change their bedsheets—it's more that I'm stopping myself from spitting in her face, No fucking shit, Mila. He's an asshole. That's what assholes do.

"And after we moved here, he's become less and less subtle about it," she continues. "I've walked in on him with, like, four different women in our bed already."

Okay, I'm still mad, but my heart also hurts for her. Even when you hate your husband, it can't be easy to catch him red-handed like that so many times. Or, I dunno, red-penised or whatever.

Mila brushes hair out of her face. "I confronted him the last time. I kicked the bitch out of my room and told Viktor that I wouldn't let him make a fool of me."

Despite myself, I lean in. "How did he react?"

"Badly." When I flinch, she rushes to reassure me, "He didn't get violent or anything. But he did tell me that he wasn't about to stop. Actually, he told me that he was the boss and I would have to get in line because ‘Kuznetsov women obey.' If they don't, they end up where his mother did."

My heart is hammering in my chest. "Where's that?"

"I have no fucking idea," Mila admits. "But it didn't sound good. I wasn't exactly rushing to ask follow-up questions."

"How does Andrey fit into all this? Is he going to stop Viktor?"

"There's no stopping Viktor, Nat. I didn't expect that from Andrey. But I explained everything and asked for the freedom to conduct my own affairs without fear of retribution."

My jaw drops. "Oh my God. Mila. "

"You can judge me if you want. Lord knows I deserve it. But Andrey agreed."

"I'm not judging you."

"Yeah, well, maybe you should." A contemptuous laugh explodes out of her mouth. "I've made a mess of my life, and I have no one but myself to blame."

She's blinking hard, trying to fight the tears turning her eyes misty. It's a far cry from the easy, breezy, life-is-doom-and-gloom-so-just-accept-it philosophy she'd recently tried to convince me of.

"I was wrong, Nat!" she wails suddenly. "I was wrong when I told you not to look for a happily-ever-after. You were worried that you'd never get to experience something real, and I just waved it off as unimportant. But you had it right all along. I was jaded and pessimistic and so used to disappointment that I thought it was easier to have a fling rather than a relationship."

Tears roll down her cheeks, and at the sight of that, the last of my anger fades. "You just didn't want to be hurt again."

Mila wipes away her tears with a grimace. "Yeah, well, I was a fool to think I could outsmart my heart. Turns out, when you fall, you fall. And there's nothing anyone can do about it."

"Mila," I ask softly, "do you have feelings for someone?"

She looks at me through damp lashes.

Then I catch a tall shadow in the far distance. My first few nights here, it scared the shit out of me. But I'm used to the patrol now.

"Why don't you come inside?" I offer.

Mila gives me a watery smile and nods. She looks guiltily at the piano as she passes before she sits in the armchair that faces the other way. "I know I betrayed your trust when I told Andrey all those personal things about you playing piano with your parents. For what it's worth, I regretted it the moment it was out of my mouth."

I sit on the sofa across from her and tuck my feet under me. "But you kept informing on me."

"Less and less," she mumbles. "I told him stuff that I thought was inconsequential. But…"

"What?"

"Nothing was inconsequential to him," she says. "It doesn't matter how small or superficial the tidbit I gave him was, he wanted to know everything."

"It's not because he cares," I snort. "He just wants to control me."

"Is it so hard to believe that he might want to protect you?"

"Yes," I insist. "It is."

Mila falls silent. But I know it's not because she agrees with me. She just doesn't want to say or do anything else that will cause me to kick her right back out on her ass.

"I didn't lie to you about my past, Natalia. I wasn't kidding when I said I had no real friends growing up. The truth is, you are my first real friend. I get that it started out as something else," she admits ruefully. "Something pretty ugly and self-serving. But it turned into a real friendship for me. I don't want to lose you."

"How can we be friends if I know that everything I tell you is going to be reported back to Andrey?"

For the first time since I let her inside, she raises her chin proudly. I see a flash of the devil-may-care Mila I know. "Every woman deserves to have some secrets. And I'll keep yours. Anything you tell me from this point on is off-limits to Andrey, I will take to my grave."

"That requires a lot of trust on my part."

Mila nods. "It's asking a lot, I know. Especially after what I've done. But you can trust me, Nat. Like I said, every woman is entitled to her secrets."

"Including you?" I ask slyly.

"Yes, including me."

I can't deny that it makes me feel a little lighter hearing her say that. It also gives me the courage to broach the little secret I've suspected Mila of keeping for the last few weeks.

"So… is it Leonty?"

Her smile gets a little wider. "How did you know?"

"No offense, but the two of you aren't exactly subtle."

She giggles and I'm amazed at how young and innocent she sounds. It's not such a bad look on her. She's too young to be so jaded.

"It started with flirting. And then—" Her eyes turn dreamy. "—he walked me to my wing of the house one night after we had dinner here. We had our first kiss right outside my bedroom door."

"Must have been some kiss."

"You'd think, but no." She sighs. "He was such a gentleman. Just a little peck and then he walked away."

It's painfully obvious that very few men have ever walked away from Mila satisfied with something as innocent as a goodnight kiss.

"It was only meant to be a fling, you know? It was never meant to be…" Her eyes go misty again and the smile slides off her face. "I finally understand what you meant when you said you wanted something real, Nat. I just didn't get it before because—well, I'd never had serious feelings for anyone. Until now."

"Your husband's cousin," I can't help but whisper. "You sure picked a doozy to start with."

"I know." Her eyes flit once again to the open windows. "Like I said, I've made a mess of my life."

"Marriage doesn't have to be forever, Mila. You can divorce Viktor if you really want to."

Mila is shaking her head before I've even finished speaking. "Maybe that's true for some people, but this is the Bratva. Marriage is for life."

"What if you asked Andrey?—"

"There's no point. He'll never allow me to divorce his brother in order to be with his cousin." She sounds so damn sure, so resigned to her fate. I hate that for her.

"So, you're just gonna stay married to Viktor but continue to have an affair with Leonty?"

Mila looks at her lap dejectedly. "It's the most we can hope for. We've both agreed: if we can't have each other wholly, then we'll settle for parts. We'll live for stolen moments rather than nothing at all."

How my heart aches for her, for them…

But even as I acknowledge the hopelessness of their love story, I register a stab of something piercing the center of my chest.

At least they're both in it together.

At least they have each other.

"Nat," Mila's voice is barely audible. "Are we okay?"

Swallowing my own heartache, I nod. "We're okay."

"Thank—"

I raise my hand to stop her. "Oh, don't thank me just yet. I have one caveat for our friendship."

Mila arches a brow and waits for me to finish.

"Katya. She's my best friend. We're a package deal."

"Does she hate Viktor as much as I do?" Mila asks.

"My money is on her hating him more than you do."

She laughs. "Then we'll get along famously."