Page 59 of Love to Defy You
He smirks. “I know.” Alek pushes off the doorframe and approaches to wrap his arm around my waist. “Come, let’s take our seats.”
Place cards sit at each setting with our names scrawled in delicate calligraphy. Alek sits at the head of the table in a wingback chair that’s larger than everyone else’s—the king’s throne. I’m assigned to the seat on his right, and Prisha is on my other side.
I don’t miss how Enzo’s place card is at the far end of the table, cast away in Siberia.
Alek leans in. “A seating chart can either create alliances between nations or start wars. One of the only valuable lessons my mother taught me.”
Apparently, Alek chose war tonight.
The rest of the group filters in one by one. Henri is the first to arrive after us, and he greets everyone with a quick nod before taking his seat beside Prisha.
“Henri brought us some chocolate truffles to pair with dessert,” Alek says. “Prisha, did you know Henri here is the heir to a Belgian chocolate empire?”
“Oh, right.” Prisha’s eyes grow wide behind her thick glasses. “Willow mentioned that.”
A deep flush blooms from Henri’s collar as he loosens his tie. “Well, a Rooman never shows up to a party without chocolate. At least, that’s what my father says.”
Henri and Prisha strike up a conversation, and I turn to Alek to mouth a silent thank-you. He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his.
Mikhail and Anastasia filter in next, with Ana taking the seat across from me on Alek’s left. Mikhail sits between Ana and Josie, but his girlfriend barely greets him. Maybe she’s still mad that Mikhail didn’t invite her? The tension between those two might be just as thick as Alek’s feud with Enzo.
Enzo and Birgitta are the last to arrive. Birgitta clutches his arm with a broad smile. As they stride in, Enzo’s penetrating gaze meets mine, but I avert my eyes and tighten my hold on Alek’s hand.
These two are about to clash. I can feel it. Now isn’t the time to play mind games with Alek by making him jealous. I need to signal my allegiance so there isn’t any misunderstanding.
They take the final two spots across from each other on the end, with Birgitta seated beside Henri and Enzo by Josie.
“It looks like we’re all here.” Alek waves over a staff member. “Who wants wine?”
“Me.” I’m the first to raise my wineglass.
As a butler pours the wine, the other staff bring out small, individual charcuterie platters for the first course.
“Uh, Alek?” I whisper.
“Yes,malishka?”
“How many courses will this meal be?”
“Six.”
“Fuck.” This is going to be a long night. I down my first glass of red and call for another.
By the time the second course arrives—a deep red borscht soup—three distinct conversations have popped up at the table.Mikhail and Anastasia, Josie with Enzo and Birgitta, and Henri and Prisha.
But Alek is enjoying his wine with a ghost of a smile on his face, listening in on Mikhail’s strange combination of Russian and English. Ringlish? Runglish? Who the hell knows, but either way, I can’t follow the conversation.
What is Alek’s plan? Lull everyone into a stupor with food and drink before dropping a bomb? He said he would reveal the plan tomorrow on New Year’s Eve, but I can’t rid myself of the uneasy feeling growing in my gut, and it isn’t from the borscht.
I keep my head down and listen in on the conversations around me. Prisha and Henri are talking about books, but not the smutty ones. Boring.
Josie says something that makes Birgitta throw her head back in laughter, and when I glance their way over the rim of my glass, Enzo’s dark eyes meet mine. A shudder makes its way from my neck to my tailbone, and I take another long sip of wine.
Alek raises a single eyebrow. “Pace yourself,malishka. You’ve barely touched your food.”
“I’m just taking the edge off.” I drain my glass.
“Just relax.” He places his hand on my knee under the table. “You’re wound up too tight.” He slips his fingers under the hem of my skirt and slides them up my inner thigh.
