Saturday mornings at the Volkov house feel different.
Less structured.
Less sharp.
Sunlight pours in without competition from schedules or phone calls.
Darina stands in front of her mirror, staring at the dress laid out on her bed.
White.
Soft fabric.
Knee-high.
Simple — but it makes her look... lighter.
She hesitates for only a second before slipping it on.
The material falls gently around her legs. The neckline modest, the waist fitted just enough. She smooths it down, studying her reflection.
She doesn't look like the girl from the cafeteria.
She doesn't look like the girl locking her bedroom door.
She looks calm.
Almost serene.
She brushes her hair slowly, leaving it loose. No heavy makeup. Just lip gloss.
For once, she doesn't dress like she's preparing for battle.
She dresses like she wants peace.
...
Downstairs, Dimitri is mid-argument with Vladimir about something pointless.
"...You cannot call that music."
"It's art," Vladimir insists.
"It's noise."
Ivan is sprawled on the couch, half-listening.
Viktor stands by the window, coffee in hand.
Footsteps.
All four glance toward the staircase automatically.
And then she appears.
White against dark marble.
Soft against sharp lines.
The room quiets.
Not dramatically.
But noticeably.
Vladimir blinks first. "Well."
Dimitri straightens slightly. "Where are you going?"
Darina pauses at the bottom step. "Good morning to you too."
Ivan sits up fully now.
His gaze flicks over her once — not lingering — just assessing.
"You look..." He searches for a word.
"Suspiciously angelic?" Vladimir offers.
She rolls her eyes. "It's just a dress."
"It's white," Dimitri points out.
"Yes."
"In this house."
She crosses her arms. "I'm not attending a funeral."
Viktor takes a slow sip of coffee, eyes steady on her. "What's the occasion?"
"No occasion." She walks toward the kitchen calmly. "It's Saturday."
"That explains nothing," Dimitri mutters.
Ivan follows her into the kitchen without thinking.
"You going somewhere?" he asks quietly.
YOU ARE READING
Blood Between Us
Teen FictionHer mother's sons. Her father's sons. Her half-brothers raised to rule, raised to destroy each other. To them, she isn't just blood-she's possession, weakness, leverage... and the one thing neither side will surrender. As rivalry turns ruthless and...
