Russian Mafia Boss's Heir Read Online Free Page B

wooden door. “Your stepfather requests that you be dressed in your wedding clothes and ready to join him for breakfast in an hour.”
    “An hour?” Tori swung around to glare at the clock on her end table. “That’s ridiculous!”
    “Then I might suggest you stop dawdling.”
    Tori made a face since the old fuddy duddy couldn’t see her. Mrs. Tobolovsky had been running Stanislas’s house since before he had married Tori’s mother. Tori secretly thought the woman had hated both mother and daughter because they were Orlovs. The Orlovs had been responsible for Mr. Tobolovsky’s death a million or so years ago. Regardless, the woman had never been particularly friendly to Tori.
    “Fine!” Tori shouted. “I’ll be there, but I’m not going to be too worried about my appearance.”
    The housekeeper snorted and said something Tori couldn’t hear. But if Tori’s grasp of that particular northern dialect was any good, she was pretty sure the woman had predicted that Tori would look like a whore anyway. Fine. Everyone was so sure they knew what Tori was like. She’d just live up to their expectations and see if that made them happy.
    ***
     
    MIKHAIL SAT PATIENTLY in the dining chair as he watched Stanislas fidget irritably in his own seat. The older man was grumbling and picking at the cloth napkin folded intricately into the shape of a swan that sat on the plate before him.
    “Sir, I’m sure you could go ahead and start your breakfast,” Mikhail began. “Surely Tori wouldn’t begrudge you that since she is quite late.”
    It was as if Stanislas had been waiting for an invitation to unload. “I told the housekeeper to wake that girl at dawn! How can it take four hours to get ready? It isn’t like she required a maid to button her into some elaborate disaster of a dress!”
    Mikhail was taken aback. He had no idea how to respond, and even less idea of whether or not he was supposed to agree or disagree. He was beginning to think that being stuck between Stanislas and his rebellious stepdaughter was worse than being between a rock and a hard place.
    “Good morning, gentleman.” Tori sashayed into the dining room and sat down without a word of apology for being late.
    “Where on earth have you been?” Stanislas burst out.
    Tori frowned, reaching for the juice and pouring herself a glass. “Personally, I think an hour and fifteen minutes is pretty good for a woman who is prepping for her wedding.”
    “An hour and fifteen minutes,” Stanislas said, his tone laced with obvious confusion. “But you were told to wake up more than four hours ago.”
    “If you asked Mrs. Tobolovsky to do it, then you made a bad choice,” Tori told him matter-of-factly. “That woman hates me. She would do anything to make me look bad. Haven’t you noticed that over the years?”
    “What?” Stanislas began to stammer, trying to come up with a response. Finally, he went with the obvious. “That’s ridiculous! You’re behaving like someone suffering from paranoid delusions.”
    “Or,” Tori said with exaggerated slowness. “I’m telling the truth, and you’re the one who is suffering from a delusion. Who knows?” She waggled her eyebrows.
    Mikhail was actually struggling not to chuckle. There was such a tone of playfulness in her manner. She was irreverent and perhaps even a little fun. In fact, he was a little in awe of her sassiness toward Stanislas. Surely someone who was so inclined toward good natured teasing couldn’t be an empty headed, entitled weakling.
    “So.” Tori looked from Mikhail to Stanislas. “I guess we’re not even pretending that we care about that whole ‘it isn’t good luck to see the bride before the wedding’ thing. Hmm?”
    “It’s traditional in my family to have a wedding brunch,” Stanislas said stiffly. “I was merely attempting to uphold my family traditions since it is my daughter and my successor getting married.”
    “Stepdaughter,” Tori pointed out. “You might as