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“We are going to have this baby and that means we have to try and get along for his sake. But that’s where it ends. We can’t blur the lines anymore. No more bathtub shenanigans—” Ugh, that’s the worst word choice of all time. “We’re co-parents and that is all.”
Dmitri gives no sign of what he’s thinking. His expression is everything I wanted to be tonight—cool and confident. I feel even more unhinged in comparison.
“Wren,” he rasps, sending a shiver down my spine, “since we’re here tonight to open the lines of communication, let me be clear: we are more than co-parents. And I think you know that already.”
I let out the breath I’ve been holding in. He’s never been quite that honest before. It gives me the courage to be honest in return.
“If that’s true,” I croak softly, “then tell me why you did it. Why did you kill my sister?”
21
DMITRI
My first instinct is indignation.
I’m not used to being questioned. I’m not used to justifying my reasons. And here she is, demanding both. Asking for something that she has no right to.
Except…
She does have the right to ask. She has the right to know. And I need to put aside my pakhan crown and be a man for a change.
I need to be the man she needs, more specifically.
Not controlling or possessive. Not even protective. No—she needs a man who can see things from her perspective long enough to sympathize.
Maybe even to…
Fuck, I can’t believe I’m saying this…
To apologize?
I don’t know how to do such a thing, but fucking hell, I’m willing to try. Seeing Wren’s beautiful green eyes fill with tears, knowing that I’m responsible for them—that sticks under my skin like a shard of glass. Everything I’ve done to try to make it better clearly hasn’t worked.
Rose’s death is an open, festering wound that requires lancing. Maybe this conversation is the hot edge that will do the job.
“You know why I killed her,” I start softly.
She nods. “Yes. You’ve told me the story, but I need to hear it again. I need you to walk me through it.”
“That will only hurt you, Wren.”
Her hands tremble as she runs them down her face. If it’s an attempt to calm herself, it doesn’t do a damn bit of good, because she only starts trembling more.
“I’m hurting anyway,” she confesses. “I might as well know everything. And I want you to start from the beginning.”
“The beginning?”
Her jaw tightens. “You were right: this didn’t start with Rose’s death. It started with Elena’s.”
Fuck.
Something hot and prickly flashes over my body. “Are you sure?”
There’s a tremor over her lips before she replies with a meek, “Yes.”
I take a deep breath. “Let’s go to the living room. I’d prefer if you were sitting down for this.”
She pales but doesn’t argue when I lead her into the living room. I sit down first so that she can decide how close or far she wants to be from me. She eyes the sofa I’m sitting on. There’s an armchair to my immediate right and another one on my far left. She surprises me by choosing the empty side of the couch. Close enough that I can touch her; far enough that I have to lean forward to do it.
