I never hide my intentions. Never have and never will. It’s not my style, and I won’t start now.
I purposely stayed in my office all day because I wasn’t ready to talk to anybody.
Or specifically her. She saw a side of me last night I didn’t want anybody to see. I asked for it, though, because I drew attention to myself.
The way I am now just for looking at her.
She knows I want her, which makes her less afraid of me. I meant what I said last night, though, when she asked if I wanted her to think of me as a monster.
I don’t, and that’s in violation to what I set out to do.
“Thank you for the dress,” she says first.
“Looks nice on you.”
“Thanks. And thank you for allowing me to see José.”
“No worries.”
“How’s your shoulder?” She brings her hands together.
It still hurts like a bitch, but I’ve had worse done to me. Whatever she did helped.
“It’s good. Thanks for patching me up, princess.”
“You should still go to the hospital.”
I’ve had enough of hospitals. “I don’t need to. I’ll be fine. Are you ready?”
Nerves fill her face. “I think so. Who’s going to be there? I… just want to know.”
I should have told her before now. “My father, Sophia, my brother, an aunt from my mother’s side, and two cousins. That’s it.”
She looks more nervous than before, but we have no time for nerves.
I have important business to discuss with my father.
I hold out my hand to her, beckoning her to come to me. “Malyshka.”
She steps forward and walks toward me, taking my hand.
The maids all look when we walk down the stairs, everyone gazing at her in adoration, even the ones who don’t like her.
I know of the tension that exists in the house, and I’m partly to blame for it because I didn’t want the staff talking to her. That was mainly because I didn’t want them treating her unfavorably.
Aleksander is loyal to me, but he has a big mouth I don’t like sometimes.
When we get in my car, I realize this is the first time she will have gone anywhere with me and our first outing as a couple.
A quick look in the mirror shows me how good we look together and how she fits me.
We don’t talk on the journey to my family home, but I know she has questions. She’ll have questions about last night I won’t want to answer, and she’s curious about the room.
I knew when she’d entered the room long before I saw her, and I knew the room would fascinate her. It’s supposed to be fascinating.
When we arrive at the house, she looks so nervous her skin has gone pale, and there’s a tremor in her hands as she brings them together. I can imagine she must feel like the lamb going to the slaughterhouse.
Even when we get out of the car and she straightens her shoulders like she’s finding strength, I can tell she’s still nervous.
