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“What the fuck? What does he know about that?” Ivan replied, almost lowering his voice, as if we wouldn’t hear him even though he was standing right next to us.
“He seems to know a fuck of a lot. He knows who Armstrong is to Emmy and he somehow knows about some shit he’s planning for her.”
My head jerked. This Armstrong person has plans for me? I was definitely going to have to get Katya’s therapist’s number.
Chapter 41
Ivan
“We have to fucking talk. Orlov woke up and he’s saying a lot of crazy shit. About Armstrong.”
Drago’s works ricocheted in my head like gunfire. In spite of my shock, I glanced uncomfortably at Emmy. “What the fuck? What does he know about that?”
“He seems to know a fuck of a lot. He knows who Armstrong is to Emmy and he somehow knows about some shit he’s planning.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck. I wanted to put my fucking fist through Drago’s face.
“Who he is to me? Who’s Armstrong?” Emmy’s voice rang out sharply, each word like a gut punch.
Drago turned to stare at her, then back to me, his dark brows creasing. “You still haven’t told her?” Drago asked incredulously.
His tone had my hackles rising. “When the fuck do you suggest I should have told her? She was just kidnapped, for fuck’s sake.
Drago blew out a sigh. “Fine. Fuck.” That was as close to an apology as I was going to get from Drago.
Emmy’s fearful gaze darted back and forth between me and Drago. “What are you guys talking about? What do you need to tell me? Who’s Armstrong?”
“Come here, Em,” I said, dragging her out of the booth she was sitting in with the girls and pulling her to the next one over.
I don’t know why I bothered, because the whole crowd just followed us, standing around our table like we were putting on a fucking performance. This was the worst possible way to tell her the information I had to tell her, with an audience. With her fucking sister right here. Hannah had dropped into the seat across from us, Nikolai right beside her.
Instead of melting against me, as she normally would, Emmy held herself stiffly away from me. I fucking hated it and my hands itched to pull her against me.
“What is going on?” she asked, nervous energy rolling off her in waves.
“Okay, fuck. Your dad, or the guy you’ve always thought of as your dad, isn’t your dad, Emmy. Your father is a man named Thomas Armstrong.”
Hannah and Emmy gasped at the same time. Hannah was the first to regain the power of speech. “What? That can’t be. You have to be wrong,” she asserted almost aggressively, shaking her head.
Emmy swung her gaze from Hannah and pinned me with a hopeful look. Irrationally, she wanted me to agree with Hannah, even though I was the one who just told her the thing that Hannah was disagreeing with. Staring into Emmy’s beautiful, panicked eyes, I wanted to do just that, but I couldn’t.
“I’m not wrong. I’m certain of it.”
“No, no, that doesn't make any sense,” Emmy continued to deny while Hannah simply stared at me in shock. Nikolai massaged the back of her neck and stared at her worryingly. I suppose now wasn’t the time to mention to her that Nikolai has known this since I found out myself.
“I’m sorry, Emmy. I know this is…a lot—especially after everything else that has just happened. But it’s true. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”
She stared at me, her expression troubled as she struggled to comprehend. “I don’t get it. Who is he? How come I’ve never known about him? Does he know about me?” She frowned. “How do you know about him?”
I paused, trying to think of how to explain everything. “Yes, he knows about you, but I wish to fuck he didn’t. Thomas Armstrong is an international businessman. But, more importantly, he’s an international criminal, involved in about every possible illegal practice that exists. He’s a bad, bad fucking man, Emmy.”
Her jaw dropped as I described the monster who was her father. I mean, I was in the Bratva, I interacted with twisted motherfuckers on the regular, so if I thought Armstrong was bad, she had to know what that meant.
“How long have you known this?” Emmy asked, every word ringing like alarm bells, her expression flashing with anger, betrayal, and shock.
I rubbed my forehead, having a suspicion that she wasn’t going to appreciate my answer. “Since you told me that you won a scholarship to your high school that you never applied for. I thought it was suspicious and I needed to make sure you were safe.”
She blinked at me, quickly calculating when she told me that information. “You’ve known this for years and never told me?”
