Page 28 of Ruby Malice

7

RAYNE

It’s a good question, really. WhatamI doing here?

I should have scurried out with the rest of the staff. No matter how much attention Kirill wants to toss my way, I’m not special to him. He’s a predator picking from the weakest of the pack.

I’m sure he can see it in me: how badly I want to belong here, how much I miss the comfort of having someone I can talk to, someone who understands.

I hoped—naively, as it turned out—that Lana might become that for me, but I’ve been here for two months already and I’ve barely seen her.

And Kirill can smell it. He’s trying to draw me away from the herd to devour me whole. While that doesn’t sound entirely unpleasurable, I can’t let myself be consumed that way.

There isn’t enough of me left.

I turn to face Viktoria. It’s barely dawn and she is in a flouncy white dress with lace sleeves and white high heels like some kind of porn star flower girl. I have to pour all of my energy into not wrinkling my nose.

“I’m working,” I say, pronouncing each syllable with slow intention. “I work here now. I’m a maid.”

There’s no shame in being a maid. No matter how much my sister and her husband might disagree. But I feel small saying it out loud.

I hate that Viktoria can make me feel that way.

She rounds on Kirill. “Is that why you sent me home after the gala? To track this slut down and give her a job?”

“How could I not, after her sterling performance last night?” Kirill is alive with pure amusement. He’s like a kid sitting in front of a puppet show. He doesn’t see either of us as real people. We’re here for his pleasure. As most people in his life are, I’m sure.

“You’re screwing with me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I am. I had no clue. Sonya hired her.”

I frown. Is that true? If me working for Kirill is truly just a bizarre coincidence, then life is a stone-cold bitch. As if I haven’t drawn the short stick enough times already.

“Butyouknew, didn’t you?” Viktoria glares daggers at me. “Did you want to get me out of the way?”

I look past her at Kirill. He said last night that she was not his girlfriend. Is he going to say that now? Given the small smile pulling at his lips, my guess is not. He wouldn’t ruin his fun.

“Unless the wine was poisoned,” I say tightly, “I’m not sure how a little spill would ‘get you out of the way.’”

“Bullshit. You saw what your new boss looked like and decided to weasel your way in. You’d make me look ridiculous and then show up here to flaunt yourself in front of him.”

I looked down at myself and then back at her, eyebrow raised. “Yes, clearly I’m flaunting myself. Men go wild for business casual with coffee stains.”

Kirill chuckles, which is pure gasoline on Viktoria’s fire.

“Listen here, you little skank,” she spits. “You play innocent, but you’re not fooling anyone. I see right through you. And if you think I’m going to sit by and let you strut around this house like some tarted-up whore, you’re even dumber than I thought.”

Last night, I was on the edge. It was a shitty day, and I had something to prove.

Today, I’m just tired.

I look at Kirill. “Do you usually let your girlfriend harass your staff?”

“It’s never been an issue. The staff have always known their place,” Viktoria interrupts.

“I know my place,” I say. “And it’s not right here. I have work to do.”

“Not if you don’t have a job,” Viktoria sneers. She turns to Kirill, pressing a palm down his chest. “You can’t let someone you’re paying treat me this way! She needs to show me respect. One day, I could be the woman of this house.”

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