Page 23 of Gilded Shackles
"Untie him," Viktor says again, ice and thunder in every syllable, "or I will untie him myself after I kill you."
Something raw crackles in the air between my mother and Viktor. Power meeting power. The room feels sudden, heavy, charged with something older than both of them.
Then she lifts her hand. Just the slightest flick. That signature, soul-level gesture I've seen her use to make men kneel.
It says: I'm not obeying you. I'm allowing this. Because I choose to, not because you asked.
"Let him go," she tells Jeffrey, her voice bored and sharp at once. "We're all adults here. Mostly."
That last word slices in my direction.
Like I'm twelve. Like I didn't just go nuclear to feel alive for one fucking night.
I force myself to stand still. Chin lifted, spine straight. But inside, I'm shrinking. Small and furious and embarrassed that there's a part of me still wanting her to be... soft. Just once. To look at me like a daughter instead of a bargaining chip she's negotiating terms on.
But no. She plays empires. Not motherhood.
I press my tongue to the roof of my mouth to keep from saying something that'll make this worse.
Jeffrey cuts Nik free.
Nik brings his hands in front of him, flexes, rotates his wrists like he's taking inventory of every bone. He looks up at Viktor and something passes between them. Some kind of masculine Morse code, calculating exactly how many people in this room they could take out before someone stops them.
Mother snaps her fingers without looking at me. "Stand."
I stand. Like her little puppet.
Viktor's eyes narrow as he studies me. "This is your daughter?"
"Yes," my mother answers for me. "My only child. Whom your nephew ruined in a hotel room."
Heat floods my face.Ruined.Like I'm a piece of furniture someone scratched. Like my worth just depreciated and she's filing the insurance claim.
Viktor's eyes come to me and hold. He doesn't leer. He evaluates. I've never felt more like inventory in my life.
He turns to Nik. "Is it true?"
Nik doesn't blink. "We met. We went upstairs. I didn't know who she was."
Simple. Honest. A clean blade.
Viktor pinches the bridge of his nose, looking suddenly tired. "Nikolai, your recklessness will be the death of us all. Did I not warn you about thinking with your cock instead of your head? How many times have I told you not to behave like the world won't bill you for it?"
Nik's mouth twitches. The ghost of a smile that's all teeth. "You lecture, but you never send the invoice."
"Consider this collection," Viktor replies.
Cool. Great. Looks like I'm a line item now.
I'm still not sure why the sky is falling. Yes, we had sex. Yes, I loved it. Yes, my thighs are filing thank-you notes. But this level of drama feels excessive even by Gayle Donovan standards.
Mother tilts her head, diamond studs winking like little knives. "We will be adults about this," she says.
"We're listening," Viktor says.
Of course he is.
"I have several assets I've been considering divesting," Mother says. "A Midtown holding company that owns this building. A promising biotech stake. Certain riverfront parcels. A package deal, premium price, for the right buyer."
