Page 133 of Twisted Pact
Mila shrugs. “I finish it. The analysis is still valid, even if my perspective has changed.”
“Changed how?” I ask.
Mila considers her words carefully. “Understanding the human cost. Academic research focuses on structures and strategies, but it forgets that real people make these decisions. People with families and feelings and complicated motivations.”
“Complicated is definitely one way to put it,” Katya muses.
Some of the awkwardness fades as the wine flows and the conversation continues. Katya asks about Mila’s academic work, and Mila questions Katya about adjusting to civilian life after government service.
“The hardest part isn’t learning new routines,” Katya explains, “It’s learning to trust my choices instead of following orders. Especially small choices like what to wear or eat. How to spend a free afternoon. In the FSB, someone else made those decisions, or they didn’t matter because survival took priority.”
Mila purses her lips and replies, “That sounds isolating.”
“It was. But effective for the mission.”
“What’s it like now? Having choices?”
Katya glances at Dmitri, who’s been listening with keen interest. “Terrifying and wonderful. I can spend an afternoon reading if I want to. No one times my activities or analyzes my behavior patterns.”
“Well,” Dmitri says dryly, “I might occasionally analyze your behavior patterns.”
Katya giggles and pokes my brother’s shoulder. “You’re my husband, not my handler.”
The way she sayshusbandmakes something warm settle in my chest. This is what I wanted—Mila seeing that our world isn’t just violence and business. There are real relationships.
“What about you?” Katya asks Mila. “Any adjustment struggles to our world? I know you come from a Bratva family, too, but this one in particular can be… challenging.”
Mila considers the question while sipping her water. “The security cameras are everywhere. Papa didn’t have that. I’ll catch myself waving at one and remember that someone’s watching me brush my teeth.”
“You get used to it,” Katya assures her.
“Do you really?”
“No,” Katya admits. “But you learn to ignore it. Like background noise.”
“Or you start performing for them,” I add. “Mila’s taken to giving little commentary tracks while she gets ready in the morning.”
“I do not.”
“Yesterday, you explained your skincare routine to camera three.”
Mila’s face goes red again. “I was being informative.”
“For whom?” Dmitri asks, amused despite himself.
“Whoever was unfortunate enough to be on surveillance duty.”
The conversation flows as we clear the dinner plates. I bring out dessert—store-bought cake because I’m not completely domestic—and open another bottle of wine.
“This is nice,” Mila tells the table. “Meeting you properly. Understanding more about Alexei’s family.”
“What did you expect?” Katya asks.
“I wasn’t sure. Maybe more intimidating or more formal.”
“We can be both, when necessary,” Dmitri corrects.
“But not tonight,” I add. “Tonight, we’re just having dinner.”
