Calm to anger to calm with the flip of a switch.
Does Olivia worry that someday he’ll treat her like a slave again?
She should.
Luca suddenly appears with a tray of salads. Renata bends to whisper something to Ezra, who is still kneeling beside her, and I shiver when he nods and stands. I watch as he meets Luca where he stands and the two of them begin to serve the family plates from the tray.
Ezra lays a plate and an empty wine glass in front of Renata first. She snatches his wrist and yanks him down before he can move to the next. She forces him to bend sideways as she presses her lips to his ear and whispers something I desperately wish I could hear. His cheeks redden with anger and his fingers clench to form a tight fist.
She releases his wrist.
I watch in horror as he places both his hands on her cheeks, bends deeper over her, and slams his lips to hers.
He’s kissing her.
Ezra is kissing Renata.
And I can’t do a goddamn thing about it.
Chapter 13
Ezra
Renata tastes like sin and sadness and everything that I hate. She holds me captive to her kiss with her hand around the back of my head, her claw-like fingernails digging into my scalp. I only kiss her because she’s threatened Anya again.
I hate the sharp pang of guilt I feel knowing that Anya is watching this. I can feel her eyes on me, and it burns. The moment Renata lets up on her grip, I jerk away and step back. I quickly grab another plate from the tray Luca carries and rush around the table to where Anya sits. She, Lorenzo, and Kostya get served after Renata and before everyone else.
I set a plate and empty wine glass in front of Lorenzo, then grab another and move to Anya. She sucks in a quick, subtle breath as I step up to her side, and I move in close, intentionally close. I slowly place her plate and glass in front of her and I feel the buzz of electricity before she moves.
Her voice is a soft whisper. “I’m so sorry if this gets you in trouble, but I have to.” Her hands land on my cheeks, grabbing my face, and turning me toward her before slamming her lips roughly against mine.
Fuck.
One kiss from my girl makes the world fall away. Her boldness scares me, but fuck, does it excite me, too.
I have to open for her. My lips refuse to stay shut when her tongue runs along the seam, asking me to taste her. I let my tongue slip inside her mouth, and I lap at her eagerly, licking away the taste of Renata and letting Anya’s sweetness replace it.
The kiss only lasts for a moment before she snaps her head away and sits up taller in her seat. I stand looking down at her with my chest heaving and I see the twitch of her lips as she hides a celebratory smile for feeding Renata her own medicine.
I swipe my lips with the back of my hand to hide my own smile as I steal a quick glance at Renata. Her eyes burn into Anya, but my blue-eyed girl is strong, holding Renata’s gaze just as fiercely.
Somehow, I manage to move on, serving the rest of the table, then Luca opens a bottle of red wine. He pours for the table as I stand waiting by Renata’s side.
“What happened to Kostya?” Anya asks as they all begin to eat. “How did he get the black eye and the cut on his cheek?”
Everyone at the table steals glances at Anya as they try to figure her out. Renata hesitates and Kostya looks over at her with quiet disdain. He really does look like shit.
“Your dead husband caused quite a bit of chaos when he took you,” Renata finally replies. “Kostya had to be subdued, but as you can see, he’s fine. He’s recovering.” She takes a sip from her glass of wine, then looks at Anya discerningly, cocking her head to the side. “Are you concerned that he’s being mistreated?”
Anya scoffs, “Of course, I am.”
“Despite your prior experiences here, I assure you that I’m a rather exceptional hostess for our guests…particularly those that serve the four families. I suggest you watch yourself and avoid insulting me at my own dinner table.”
I’m bristling with the urge to knock Renata off her damn chair as I’m forced to listen to her.
But Anya lets it roll from her shoulders, lifting her fork and stabbing at her salad. “I’m not entirely certain that an exceptional hostess would make a Mikhailov wife sleep in the bedroom of her former tormentor.”
Renata drops her fork and it clangs against her plate, the unexpected sound causing several guests’ shoulders to jolt at the surprise. But not Anya. No, she’s as cool as fucking ice.
“Your tormentor was my brother. And many would argue that I’ve given you the best room in our home. But I suppose if you’re too weak-minded to handle the accommodation of a Head of House, I could find you another room. Perhaps something smaller, more befitting for your stature and general cowardice.”
Anya’s jaw sets. Her frame remains rigid and still. Her expression and body language give away nothing, but the flicker across her bright blue eyes is obvious—at least, it is to me. It’s a flicker of fear, a look that only someone who’s been through what she’s been through could express in their eyes alone. I know she would’ve been happy to have a smaller room—anything to get her out of the room she almost died in. But now that Renata has challenged her strength and resiliency, I know she’s gonna be stubborn as fuck about sticking it out there.
Anya swallows, lifting her chin a little higher. “I’m no coward, Renata. But you don’t really know me all that well yet. You’ll learn everything you need to know in time.”
A flicker of a fake fucking smile tugs at the corners of Renata’s lips, but falters just as quickly. She’s pissed. She snaps her fingers at me again and I bend to take whatever order she’s decided to give me.
As the table returns to side conversations and general chatter, Renata whispers to me, “Go remove the glass of wine from Anya’s setting. She shouldn’t be drinking in her condition. Take Olivia’s glass, too.”
Hmm. A request that’s actually reasonable.
I stand to obey, but Renata latches her fingers around my wrist before I can straighten, yanking me closer to add a little something extra to her request.
“Spill both glasses down the front of Anya’s blouse. That particular shade of ivory makes her look sallow, don’t you think? Give her some red to bring out the pink of embarrassment in her cheeks.”
“What? No.”
“I’m not asking, Ezra. You know the consequences of your choices, so I suggest you do as I ask.”
She is so fucking petty.
Spill red wine on her?
What the fuck is that supposed to accomplish?
Renata is acting like a petulant child and sure, I could give her leniency for the fact that she’s just lost her brother at my girl’s hand—which would make anyone want retribution—but this is just fucking dumb.