Ruthless King: A Dark Mafia Romance: War of Roses Universe (Mice and Men Book 1)

first acquired me.
This arrangement of fabric symbolizes the twisted full circle my life has become—I’m the heiress of an empire that would have chewed me up and spit me back out.
“You can’t ignore me, Will.”
Eli’s here as well, I find, watching me from the doorway. “You’ve been quiet, too,” he admonishes.
I feign surprise and point to my mouth.
He rolls his eyes, unamused. “You know what I mean.” He raises his hands, letting his fingers contort. You just stood there and let them talk around you. You never let anyone talk around you.
I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s improved so much with signing despite me being away. Knowing him, he’s been practicing.
I’ve grown up, I sign back.
He shakes his head, still motioning with his hands. No. Something happened. I know it. What’s wrong? Did something happen at that stupid school?
No. I insist, turning to stare from the nearest window rather than face him directly.
An education overseas gave me an even more insular upbringing, and while music isn’t an exciting profession, it’s safe. Much like the most carefully composed concerto, it’s beautiful, formed of predictable notes, and contained order. You can stray from the rules only so far and still create something incredible.
Music healed me from hate.
Or perhaps it’s become more of a Band-Aid in some ways—one I’m terrified to rip off.
I can’t be that scared, angry little girl again.
I won’t let even his memory steal my life from me a second time. Shaking my head, I banish him only to discover that Eli’s still watching me.
Will you be at the party? I ask, changing the subject. I can ask Mischa to make an exception.
“It’s not him I’m worried about,” Eli grumbles out loud, wrinkling his button nose. “Come with me?”
Grateful for the change in subject, I follow him into the hall and into the wing opposite this one where Ellen, Mischa, and the children stay.
“Mama?” Eli calls as we near a suite of rooms. We’ve barely rounded the corner when a slender woman with long dark hair coiled into a braid appears at the other end of the hall. Anna. A shapeless brown dress helps her to almost blend into the wood-paneled walls. It’s her quiet beauty that gives away her resemblance to Ellen, her half-sister. Otherwise, they’re as opposite as night and day.
“There you are, darling,” she calls, sighing in relief. “Oh, and Willow! I didn’t know you were home so soon. Welcome back.”
She steps forward to throw her slender arms around me. While she’s distracted, Eli chooses this moment to pounce.
“Do you think I could stay up late tomorrow night, Mama?” he asks. “Willow wants me at her party. Please?” He’s as shameless as Aljona or Marnie, batting his eyelashes charmingly with a grin to match.
Anna bites her lower lip. “I don’t know, darling…” Hesitantly, she runs her fingers through his hair, eventually returning his smile. “I’ll think about it.”
He throws his arms around her with unbridled joy. “Thank you!”
She kisses his cheek, smoothing his hair one final time. “I suspect you two have a lot to catch up on,” she says, winking at me. “I’ll let you enjoy your time.”
The moment she’s out of view, I turn to Eli, signing, You were worried about her? She would give you the moon if you asked for it.
He shrugs. “You know she doesn’t like being around a lot of people.”
He’s right. She and Eli reside in the most secluded wing of the manor for a reason. Even during the years I lived here, I could count the interactions I’ve had with her alone on one hand, and rarely does she join events that aren’t restricted to the family. After the death of her father, Ivan, two years ago, she’s been even more reclusive.
I’ve heard Mischa and Ellen mention snippets of her past in hushed whispers; that she had been held captive for years by a rival family.
I’ve known her to be nothing but kind; however, it’s obvious that Eli is her sole devotion. Anyone might think she was his biological mother. Once, a few years ago, I’d gathered up the nerve to ask him: if Ellen is your mother, why do you call her “Aunt?”
His answer, as always, portrayed a logic well beyond his young years. “Aunt Ellen doesn’t need me as much,” he said wistfully. “My mama does.”
I didn’t know what he meant then. Ellen needed him—anyone with eyes could see that. A lesser woman would have shunned Anna from his life, doing her best to assert herself in her natural role. But as selfless as she is, Ellen knew what he wanted, and was brave enough to make that sacrifice for him.
From Eli’s perspective, the reasoning was more childish and, in some ways, tragic. Ellen had more than enough children with Mischa. Anna? She had none. In his analytical brain, that wasn’t fair, so he rectified it as only a child could.
“Will?” He grabs my hand, his gaze more piercing than ever. “You zoned out again. Maybe you are tired? Playing music all day would make me want to sleep too.” He smiles in that impish way his younger siblings have yet to master.
I roll my eyes and sign, We can’t all be soldiers like you.
It’s a strange thing for a boy to aspire to be—especially one with so much wealth and opportunity at his disposal. On the other hand, it’s an obvious outcome to anyone who knows him. While he loves Anna and Ellen, he worships Mischa, a man who sneers at anything not involving fighting tactics or knives. Or at least he used to. It’s strange what children can do to men like him. With Ivan, another dutiful mini-soldier, he was gentle but still stern.
But when Aljona was born, he barely raised his voice in her presence. And when Marnie came? He had the various displays of weapons hanging in his office quietly replaced with paintings.
It wasn’t as if the girls made him softer, oh no.
Mischa guards his family jealously. The bigger it grows, the tighter