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The night in the cage or the night I lost my virginity to his worst enemy in the bedroom. Or, how about telling him what went down in the office?
The real war would begin between the two of them and nothing would stop my father until he had Viktor’s head.
Strengthening my resolve, I flashed an even brighter smile. “Are you saying you didn’t teach me well? Because those lessons were really helpful. Who knew I could hide a syringe between my fingers?”
Oh, Ava. I’d let that slip by accident, and because nothing ever went past my father, he heard it loud and clear.
A storm was brewing over his head and the deadly look he gave me was actually directed at someone else. Someone with soulless eyes, hard lines, a well-trimmed beard, and soft lips that I could kiss for days.
“A syringe, Ava?”
“Father...”
“Did he do something to you?”
“No …”
“Ava.” His voice demanded honesty. My heart pounded and an emptiness sank into the pit of my stomach.
Yes, I wanted to scream. Yes, he did something to me. He made my heart flutter with just a single touch. He made me desire things … things that I never knew existed.
“No, he didn’t.”
“Then, who did that to you?” This time it was Declan’s voice that interrogated me, probing deeper with questions. His finger pointed to the cut on my lip and Dad eyed it as if I'd my arm chopped off.
“Ava…” He growled a stern warning.
Declan wasn’t helping the rising tension. “That scumbag… I’m going to kill him! I’ll kill the fucking bastard.”
They didn’t make it easy for me, and it was already uncomfortable to stand there with part of my ass sticking out from under my T-shirt. Now I also had to deal with how I had gotten the syringe in the first place—how Anton had torn my shirt, forced himself on me, bruised my lips with tasteless kisses and then there was blood everywhere.
Tears pricked the back of my eyes, and I blinked rapidly. “It was not Viktor.”
It couldn’t be because Viktor was not an animal.
“Cad?” What?
Lifting my head, I mirrored Declan’s glare. “It was not Viktor. The man who did this … he is dead. I killed him with the knife Dad gave me last year.”
My father’s jaw dropped and almost hit the floor. I had never seen such a look on his face as I saw now. Disbelief. Shock. “Mo leanbh …”
I wasn’t going to cry. “I killed a man.” I fell into his arms and was overwhelmed by my emotions, I didn’t know why I started crying, but I was sure it wasn’t just about a dead man. “I had to fight him. But I swear I didn’t mean to kill him.”
He stroked my hair and hushed me with whispers. “This wasn’t supposed to happen to you, sweetheart. This life… I didn’t want this for you, but I have myself to blame. I caused this.”
I had blood on my hands and could do nothing about it. Regret didn’t matter; neither of us could turn back time and undo what had already happened. I had to accept it and face it. My life had changed. Whether I liked it or not, I had been sucked into the same hole that the O’Sullivan’s and Voronin-Varkov’s inhabited. A deep, deep darkness, corrupt politics, violence, and shady dealings. Sniffling, I wiped my eyes and dragged down my flimsy clothing, trying to cover excess skin. Declan suddenly noticed the movement, took off his jacket, and draped it over my shoulder. His cologne lingered and it reminded me of the night in the elevator when he covered me with Fedor’s jacket.
Why did everything have to be pointed back to him?
“Thank you.” I cinched the jacket tighter, more resolved. “We can’t bring him back. What’s done is done. This is it; this is who I am now and I ... I want to be part of the business.”
“The mafia ...” Dad scoffed. “Mo leanbh, you must be crazy if you think I’m going to let you be part of this. There’s almost no room for a woman in the business I'm in; and if you want to belong, you'll have to make your own way. There's no way I'm going to stand by and watch your sweet, innocent soul be corrupted because I screwed up and didn’t protect you enough. And why didn’t Viktor protect you, huh? He promised me he would!” Now he was angry.
He turned and began to walk away from me. I grabbed his arm and held it tight. “I ... killed. A. Man. Do you expect me to go back and pretend everything is hunky-dory, or normal again? Am I supposed to go back to watching sitcoms, shopping, and planning my career? I can’t do that. That's my choice; that's what I want: to be in your business. I have skills and I think I've proven myself. Please.”
After a long, hard stare, his shoulders slumped in silent resignation and a reluctant grunt signaled his agreement. I smiled. Then Declan’s phone rang in his pocket, and he side-stepped to take the call. It took a few minutes, and we watched tensely as his shoulders stiffened. He came back with a serious look on his face.
“Trouble?” My father questioned.
