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“Do you know what that means, Ava?”
Her shoulders trembled and she buried her face between her knees. “Viktor, just listen to me. I swear—”
“Do you know what that means?” I repeated, louder. “It means he saw something in me that no one else did. Potential, determination, usefulness. Before this—before the Bratva, I didn’t know anyone could see that much in me. He showed me possibilities and I embraced it.”
“If only you will give me a chance to explain myself…”
“You had a chance, dove, and you fucking blew it. Don’t worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid, like ending our marriage. I won’t give you what you want. I will not let you go until you embrace it. But at the moment, the sight of you sickens me.”
With one last look at her, I dialed Ivan.
“Come to my office.”
She seemed to sense what was about to happen. Furiously, she wiped her eyes and shot to her feet. At the same time, the door opened behind us, and Ivan pitched forward.
Her eyes moved from mine to his and returned to mine. “Viktor…”
I kicked the chair back and pranced toward the young man. “Lock her up.”
“No!”
She called my name, begging me to listen. But the damage had already been done.
Without looking back, I shut the door.
Chapter 18 - Ava
I had grown used to the different looks he gave me.
I knew when he was mad. The grey in his eyes would go dark, like a dreadful storm about to unleash torrents and killer winds. I knew when he was in the mood for sex. His pupils would dilate, and he’d look at me as if I was the only woman in the world. And I knew when he tried to be playful. The air around him wasn’t so thick, or suffocating, and I was most comfortable.
But I’d never seen his eyes go darker than they did today. When I thought they were soulless, he proved that the grave had depths; and when I thought he was incapable of showing emotion, I saw a turmoil of hurt mixed with grey.
It was like something had broken inside. And I’d been the one to break it. I didn’t feel good about the betrayal. But why did I feel bad? Like I’d done something unforgivable?
My loyalty lay with my father first. He should have understood that. I could not apologize for wanting to help my family.
I screamed his name until my throat hurt, cried till my eyes burned, and slammed my hands against the door, fighting to get out, till my palms stung. I hated this; this feeling of being locked up, again.
Now, I sat with my back against the door, wasted, tired, and anxious. He’d stormed out in anger, his destination unknown. I rubbed my arms, exhaustion racked my bones, but I needed to speak with him.
I’d tried to contact him, but the bodyguards he put in charge—the caretaker and actual bodyguard—were strict about following their boss’s orders.
I wished he’d listened to me.
How could I tell him that Benjamin Hawk was playing a double game? Dad had signed the deal with the same man who had promised to help him take down Viktor, and that was the same man whose name I’d seen signed in Viktor’s document.
My father wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Maybe, if I’d been able to contact Declan, they’d be more reasonable and call the whole thing off. Viktor had crushed that option under his feet, literally, and there was nothing I could do now.
As stubborn as he was, he was going to walk right into danger, a trap, without any prior warning.
If he had given me a chance, and heard me out, we would have tried to uncover Benjamin’s plan. Whatever it was, it would be sneaky and malicious. There was no way he had good intentions.
I thought hard about it.
What was he trying to achieve?
Perusing, I attempted to connect the dots. Then, like the perfect piece of puzzle falling into place, it clicked. The Bratva and the Irish Mafia were known for immense capacity, strength, and power.
