Page 29 of Ruby Malice

Kirill doesn’t give anything away. Maybe that’s why Viktoria is so self-conscious: she doesn’t know where she stands with him because he gives her nothing to work with. It makes sense, even if it’s highly annoying. I almost empathize.

He looks at her and then at me, weighing his options.

And in this, Viktoria has finally bested me. My stomach roils. I can’t lose this job. Not on the first day.

The only thing worse than telling my sister I’m going to be a maid is telling her I got fired on my first day. If I can’t hold down this job, what will she think of me?

“You could be doing so much more with your life,”she’s said to me again and again. When I gave up college to take care of Mom. When I moved into her guest house instead of getting my degree. When I took the catering job. When I tookthisjob.

I can’t bear to hear it again.

I hear my mom’s voice in my head.Stand up for yourself, Raynie. Fight for yourself. No one else will.

Kirill opens his mouth, but I cut him off. “You can’t fire me,” I blurt. “I—I signed a contract. I have rights.”

I don’t know if this is true. Sonya sent me an email and I e-signed my name to it. Is that legally binding? I didn’t even read the damn thing. Technically, I could have agreed to be Kirill’s sex slave or to lick his boots clean at the top of every hour. If I’d known who I was working for, I would have read the fine print. Twice.

Viktoria’s head snaps in my direction. “He can do whatever he wants with you.”

She doesn’t realize how suggestive her words are—but Kirill does. His eyes spark as he watches me, an unspoken challenge.

I feel that small, scrappy part of me stirring to life even more. For months, I’ve been in a walking daze. Everyone has pointed it out. But something about these people—about Kirill, more specifically—is waking me up.

“Fine,” I say, looking past Viktoria to Kirill. “Do what you want. I know I’m nothing to you. A blip in your life that you’ll forget about the moment I’m out of sight. Get your kicks by chasing us little ants around with your magnifying glass. But don’t expect me to squirm.”

Viktoria’s face creases in confusion. “What are you talking about? See, Kirill? This bitch is crazy.”

But I can tell he understands what I’m saying. His amusement has faded, but not his interest. “You’re not fired. Not today.”

Viktoria inhales sharply. “You’re keeping her on? You can’t. You have to—”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he snarls. “I can do whatever I want. And right now, I don’t want to find a replacement. She’s staying.”

Relief fills my chest. I still have a job. A paycheck.

For now.

It’s short-lived, though. Viktoria is steaming, but she can’t aim any of her wrath at Kirill. So, like a heat-seeking missile, she turns all of her attention to me.

“Fine. But if you’re going to stay, you’re going to work.” She sits down in the bar stool, her long, fake nails tapping against the quartz countertop. “Make me breakfast.”

“I’m a maid, not a chef.”

She gives me a charmless smile. “If you want to keep your job, you’ll be whatever I tell you to be.”

I look to Kirill, and instantly regret it. I don’t need him to save me from her. Before he can do anything, I spin around and dig through the pantry.

Never let them see you flinch.

Behind me, Viktoria sets her sights on Kirill again. “How busy are you today? I thought we could go for lunch. Maybe buy a few things for the guest rooms. The décor is so out of date.”

“I just bought the house. An interior decorator furnished it three years ago.”

She giggles. “This is why you should leave this kind of thing to me. Times change, fads come and go. You handle the business, and I’ll take care of the house.”

If Viktoria isn’t Kirill’s girlfriend, no one has told her yet.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m working today,” he responds drily.

---