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For the first time, a terrifying thought enters my mind. What if Mishka’s not who he says he is? What if the reason he survived the night we were ambushed was because he was a part of the plan to kill my family all along?
Even with the proof right here before me, I can’t seem to wrap my mind around that possibility. Why did he save me if that’s the case?
And more importantly, why does he clearly want to kill my father—my family?
All those nights of spending time together, laughing, dancing, talking, I thought I was getting to know him. But I don’t know this man at all.
I trusted Mishka.
I believed in the goodness I saw inside him.
And yet, here he is, ready to betray me. Ready to betray us all.
It cuts deeper knowing that I let him into my heart. Into my bed.
I fell in love with him. I’m carrying his child. All this time he’s been sleeping with me, has he been planning to kill my father?
My stomach threatens to reject my dinner at the thought. And my breath catches in my throat as the pain of his betrayal lances through my chest.
Seeming to sense my presence, Mishka turns, his head snapping in my direction as he meets my eyes. Blue steel finds me, his frigid, hate-filled gaze turning me to ice.
Cold panic grips my chest. I’ve never seen such tortured violence in his eyes. I don’t even recognize the man before me. This Mishka is not the man who caresses my cheek and holds me close.
This is an avenging angel, ready to wipe my family’s name from the face of the earth.
My lips part, but I can’t find my voice to cry out, to warn my father that he’s in danger. Heart thudding in my chest, I watch helplessly as the man who raised me is on the verge of being gunned down.
Not far from him, my brother stands before the prisoners. I can’t imagine that Mishka will let him live, either. Tears sting my eyes as I brace for the horrible loss of losing them.
Then, to my astonishment, Mishka lowers the gun.
Still, his gaze is filled with a violent rage, a wrathful agony that tears at my heart, and at the same time, makes me quake.
His body shifts as he seems to forget his target, and he comes for me instead.
He looks like he wants to say something to me, but then he hesitates. Any noise might alert my family to his presence. So instead, he takes a purposeful step in my direction. Better to take me out quietly, I suppose. I’m an easy target. He can always come back and finish the job once I’m dead.
Terrified for my life—and more importantly, the life of my unborn child—I suddenly find the ability to move. Adrenaline surges through me as I think only about saving my baby. Spinning on my heel, I race back down the rough-hewn dirt tunnel toward the stairs that lead up into my family’s home.
I can feel Mishka hot on my heels, though I got a pretty decent head start.
But my bare feet are a handicap. They slap against the cold, hard ground, sending knives of pain up through my soles and making me limp.
Meanwhile, Mishka has years of training and heaps of physical athleticism on his side. He’s going to catch me no matter how desperately I flee for my life.
Skidding past the wooden staircase, I come to a screeching halt and backtrack to race up the solid steps. Heart pounding in my throat, I climb them, realizing just how stupid my decision was.
Why did I run?
Who’s going to save me now?
I sure as hell am not strong enough to save myself.
Vlad. Maybe he’s still here. Though it’s late enough at night, I doubt it.
At the top of the stairs, I spin and grasp the heavy trap door leading into the creepy labyrinth of tunnels beneath my family’s home. Nothing but death and violence live down there. I know that now. I saw it in the eyes of the man I thought I loved.
The same man who climbs the stairs with terrifying agility now.
