Page 120 of Rule of Three

Silence.

Her hand strokes my hair, and she makes a soothing sound, almost like a mother would for their sick child. “Come now, Valentina,” she repeats gently. “We’ve a wedding to attend.”

A wedding. My wedding.

I force my eyes to open through the pain. Everything’s fuzzy, and the light is so bright. A groan passes my lips, nausea rising like bile in the back of my throat.

My grandmother rubs my back in small, soothing circles. “There, there. It’s okay, ditya. The danger has passed. You’re safe now.”

“Is he gone?” My throat’s raw and scratchy, and I swallow as best I can.

“Yes, he’s gone, ditya. He won’t be able to lay a finger on you ever again.”

Good. I never want to see Liam’s face ever again. I’ll gouge his fucking eyes out and shove his bleeding dick down his throat.

Rage fuels me. I blink rapidly to clear my vision.

Liam’s fucking face, bright purple and sickly yellow from bruises struggling to heal around a freshly-broken nose, is right in front of me.

I scream.

I can’t move my arms, or I’d strangle the motherfucker.

“What—is—he—” I gasp for air between each word. “—doing—here?”

Katya sighs and rises from the bed. “He’s your husband, Valentina. Honestly.”

My what?

Bile rises fast, and this time, I vomit.

This has got to be a fucking nightmare.

Liam rushes to the bathroom for a wet rag and wipes my mouth.

Yeah, definitely a nightmare.

“It’s okay,” he says gently, “you’re coming down from the meds. It’ll take a minute. Try to relax. Breathe.”

I choke on my anger as he presses a second, damp cloth to my forehead. “Even now, you’re still beautiful, Valentina.” He presses a cool kiss to my forehead. “Don’t worry about your dress. We’ll have it cleaned.”

I force my head to the side, scratching my cheek against the blankets. I’m on a bed, I realize, face down on a fucking bed that isn’t my own.

My dress is ruined. Slashes have ripped the top layer to near shreds, and blood is splattered across the bottom. My heart breaks, and hot tears fill my eyes.

Not again. Not this time.

Another wedding ruined.

Panic helps clear the fog in my mind. “Where are they?” I push myself up onto my elbows, and Liam helps me sit upright.

I hate the bastard, but I’ll kill him later. Right now, I need answers.

“Where is Andrei? Ezra? Mikhail?”

Where are my men?

Katya’s eyes pierce my heart like daggers of ice. “Gone, Valentina. They’re gone, and they’re never coming back.”

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