Chapter 190 191

Chapter 190 191
“It’s okay, buddy,” I say, rubbing his back softly.

When Parents’ Night is over, I decide to head to the nearby ice cream shop. I can see in the rearview mirror that Nikolas’ eyes light up when he sees where we’re going.

Inside, he orders a triple-scoop cup of vanilla, strawberry, and peanut butter ice cream. That combination doesn’t make sense to me, but I buy him whatever he wants. When it’s my turn to order, I just take a single-scoop cone of butter pecan and swipe the card Matvei gave me for purchases for Nikolas.

We take our seats and enjoy our treat, talking about how exciting Parents’ Night was. I didn’t think Nikolas would enjoy being at school after class that much, but from the way his eyes go big as he talks about it, it’s clear that he loved every last second of it.

“Victoria?” he says after a lull in the conversation.

“Hm?”

“What were your mommy and daddy like?”

I take a long moment to decide how I want to approach this. He’ll know if I’m lying, and I don’t want to have to spend time convincing him anymore than I already have. “Well, my mom was really beautiful and nice. She loved to play piano, and she tried to teach me. I wasn’t very good at it,” I laugh.

Nikolas smiles, strawberry ice cream on his chin. “What about your daddy?”

“My dad is …” I bite into my cone and chew, quickly coming up with something to say. “He’s a good guy.”

“Do you want to be a mommy?” he asks.

My stomach twists at the thought. Not just because of my life, my upbringing, the thought that’s always lingered in the back of my head whenever my dad messed up again: When I have a child, I’ll do things differently. Not just because I’m imagining how proud I’d be to see my child walk across the stage for graduation, or down the aisle at my wedding.

But also because of the image that sprang to my mind’s eye the second Niko asked the question: a fantasy of Matvei and me, each of us holding one of our child’s hands, swinging him or her through the air, all three of us laughing.

Happy.

Together.

Just thinking about it almost brings tears to my eyes.

“You know, maybe someday,” I shrug as nonchalantly as I can. “I think it could be fun. A lot of work, but a lot of fun at the same time.”

Nikolas nods and bites into a frozen strawberry. “I think you’d make a good mommy,” he says confidently.

I smile and reach forward, pinching one of his cheeks. “Yeah? You do?”

“Yeah! You could be my mommy.”

I don’t even know how to respond to that. For the past few months, I’ve felt like I’m parenting Nikolas more than I am babysitting, but I don’t mind. There’s something so rewarding about taking care of him. It does make me wonder about how long I’ll be here.

I know that Matvei said that he’d let me go as soon as Dad pays off his bills or I’ve worked off what he owes, but I don’t know if he’d really be so open to it when the time comes. The man is mercurial, to say the least. What if he just changes his mind?

The idea of being here for years terrifies me. I have my own life outside of this. This can’t be my whole world.

When we finish our ice cream, I call the mansion and one of the guards comes to pick us up. I’ve had my phone in my hand all night long, but Matvei hasn’t called or texted to let me know where the hell he went or if something happened to him. I know better than to blab to the guards or whoever about my anxieties. Matvei wouldn’t like that one bit. Still, I feel my worries gnawing away in the pit of my stomach.

I try to ignore the nasty feeling as I help Niko take a bath and get ready for bed. We read a story, then I tuck him in.

“Good night, Niko.” I kiss him on the cheek and turn off the main light, leaving the tiny nightlight shaped like a spaceship on. Downstairs, I take a seat on the sofa and try to distract myself with TV until Matvei gets home.

After a few hours, the door finally opens, and I see Matvei step through it. He looks exhausted, and I want to feel pity, but then I remember Nikolas upstairs and how disappointed he was that his uncle vanished.

“Where have you been?” I ask, trying to keep my voice neutral. I don’t need to snap on him. Not when he could so easily hurt me and make my life here a living hell. “You didn’t tell me you were leaving or anything.”

“Because it’s not my job to report to you, Victoria,” he grunts. As he pulls off his jacket, he pauses to sniff the air. “What are you baking?”

“Banana bread for Nikolas. He was upset that you left without saying goodbye. All you had to do was come in and say that you weren’t going to be able to stay the entire night and he wouldn’t have been so hurt.”

“He’ll live.”

“Jesus,” I groan, shaking my head. “You have absolutely no compassion for anyone else in the world, do you? I’m telling you that your nephew was hurt by you disappearing and you’re passing it off like I’m the one that’s upset!”

He narrows his dark eyes at me, and I feel a wave of intimidation hit me. “You’re the one raising your voice.”

“Because you’re being an asshole to Niko, and you don’t even care!”

“I do care,” he growls, taking a step towards me. “If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be running all over this fucking town looking for the man that killed his parents. I wouldn’t be busting my ass day and night to get justice for that boy. So, don’t fucking tell me I don’t care, Victoria.”

I’ve never seen him this red in the face. Not even when he nearly took Dad’s head off. He’s not joking around tonight.

“Whether you do care or not, you still hurt that little boy up there. Any man would realize how wrong he was and apologize. He wouldn’t be sitting down here arguing with me; he’d be up there saying he was sorry to that little boy.”

“You’re really trying to tug on my heartstrings tonight, aren’t you?” he scoffs.

“I’m trying to get you to feel anything other than nonstop anger all the time. Sorry for thinking you were capable of feeling more than one thing at a time.”

God, I could throttle this man. He’s so goddamn frustrating, and I can see just how cranky he is after dealing whatever it is he was working on.

“Sorry, let me bake him some fucking banana bread. Maybe that’ll fix things.”

“Go to hell, Matvei,” I say, pushing myself up from the couch and pushing past him. He snatches me up and tosses me back onto the couch, my heart in my throat. I want to say something biting and vicious, but all I notice is the way he approaches, not like he’s angry, but like he’s got something to prove.

“You think I’m an asshole, don’t you?” he asks, undoing the first two buttons on his shirt.

“Yes,” I say, looking away. “I think you’re the biggest asshole I’ve ever met.”

“You’re an asshole too.”

“No, I’m not,” I say, glaring at him. He undoes more buttons, revealing even more of his tight body.

“You’re stuck up, and so self-righteous, and you grate on my fucking nerves.” He tugs his shirt off his body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch.

I don’t know what to think. Part of me says to run to my room and lock the door; the other part says to stay put right where I am. To enjoy this sight and sit back as Matvei strips more and more of his clothing free.

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself,” I shoot back, turning away from him. “You think the world revolves around you. That you can do no wrong. You hurt everyone around you, and you don’t even care.”