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to do was point at the door, and Masha would apologize and leave the room. Those were the rules that existed between them though they never actually acknowledged it.

The levels of power and expectations existed everywhere else in the Yazov household, except in Karine’s bedroom. She also made it a point to never make Masha feel less than, or reminded her of her true position within these walls—that of a slave.

She meant more to Karine.

More than just that.

“It’s time to get ready, yes? Your father and the others will be waiting for you.” Masha stood at the entrance of her walk-in closet, speaking with her head tilted to the side. Like someone might do to a sleepy child. “What happens when we make them wait? You’ve already slept in too late.”

Karine didn’t need the reminder.

And yet ...

Masha still gave it.

“Why do I have to see him?” Karine asked, at least making an attempt to keep the whine out of her words. It was the most she could do. “Why now? I have a headache.”

“Yes, that much is obvious, child. But here’s the thing—you constantly have a headache because you have been drinking too much and having a good time, haven’t you?” Masha asked, amusement thick in her voice as it grew fainter when she disappeared into the closet, presumably to pick out Karine’s outfit for the day. “Too good of a time, apparently. Something to consider, Karine.”

On mornings when she woke up feeling like this, which was more often than not lately, Masha was the one who took the responsibility of making all her daily administrative decisions. She emerged with a cream lace dress that would show off her figure, and tan pumps that had a way of making her legs look longer than they actually were.

At least, her nanny had good taste.

“How about this?” Masha asked, smiling eagerly as she waited for Karine’s approval.

“Isn’t that too much for a morning visit with family?”

Masha’s smile stretched wider as she brought the items over to the bed. “You’re being silly again. You must always look your best, no? Especially for the family.”

The throbbing ache at the back of Karine’s skull sent pain dancing down her spine in punishing steps. She put the glass down on the bedside table, and leaned further into the high-piled pillows, pinning her eyelids shut again.

If only she could feel that delirious joy again—what she felt in her dream when she was circling the tree.

Masha’s hand was back on her cheek in an instant, the back of her palm gently stroking Karine to wake up and face the day.

“Why does my father want to see me?” she asked.

Maxim never wanted to see her.

That was the whole point.

A part of her even liked it this way.

Karine forced her eyes open while Masha stepped away from her, replying softly, “I get directions—not details. You know this. Now, come over here, let’s get you out of those clothes and into this.” She picked up the dress and pumps, swinging them from her fingertips as she added, “I have some makeup laid out on the vanity. I think it would suit the look.”

“I don’t want to wear makeup. I don’t even want to wear that dress.”

Don’t you care?

Karine couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Even her protests came out as barely a whisper. She wasn’t sure if Masha had heard her—she’d not quite learned how to be loud. She watched others do it, but the idea of drawing attention, especially unwanted, frightened her more than she could explain.

She could already predict what the rest of the morning and subsequent day was going to look like. One of those where Masha would have to supply her with a few pick-me-ups. Pills for her to swallow—quickly and discreetly. It helped her get through the day, at least.

If she made any more complaints, Masha would quickly offer her the pills and Karine knew she would readily accept. It was the only way for her to feel remotely human—someone capable of a conversation and a smile, even if it was a little too loose—and then everyone would be happy.

She wouldn’t feel like such a lost cause. Everyone else would pretend they didn’t know the truth.

See?

Simple.

“What beautiful skin you have—women spend thousands to make their skin as soft and pale as yours,” Masha said.

Karine, out of bed now and positioned in front of Masha who was slowly helping her out of her clothes and into the lace dress, mumbled back a non-reply under her breath. She hoped the woman was too distracted to sense how her cheeks blushed in response to the compliment even if she wanted to also act like it didn’t exist in the first place.

She never knew how to react to something like that.

Compliments ...

Attention.

Affection?

“And this will make you look even more beautiful,” Masha continued. “The color compliments your skin and hair—and those eyes.”

Karine blinked up, meeting the gaze of her caretaker through the sweeping veil of her inky lashes. “What about my eyes?”

“The prettiest blue.”

“The sky is pretty. So is the ocean.”

And both were blue.

Karine didn’t think she was anymore spectacular or amazing than those things—and certainly not her eyes. Hell, those were the things that the people around her often found the hardest to meet. Staring at her meant seeing her.

Actually fucking seeing her.

No one liked to do that.

She just wasn’t sure why.

Masha nodded once, saying only, “And they don’t compare—nothing compares. Remember it, yes?”

She zipped the dress up neatly and smoothed down the front, running her palms gently over the fabric until she was satisfied with the way it sat on Karine’s body. Next, she picked up the tube of stick foundation and a concealer that worked magic on the ever-present dark circles under Karine’s eyes.

Behind Masha stood a tall mirror—the one Karine was avoiding looking into. She never really understood the unsettling feeling that came to cloak her in anxiety when faced with her reflection, but she knew she couldn’t look at it for long. It was only a reminder of

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