Page 67 of Brutal Vows

“Just start somewhere,” I urge her on as I put a hand on her arm.

She leans away from my touch, opening a gap between us. “I’ll tell you everything, as long as you promise you’ll let me go. I need to fetch her and…” She buries her face in her hand, fingers trembling.

“Disappear? That’s been the plan?”

She nods.

“You know I can’t let you go, Milana. I don’t want to. I want—” I stall, staring at the momentous truth I didn’t see coming. “I want to protect you. Be with you. And there’s Gabi.”

“Ivan will never hurt Gabi, especially not after what happened today.”

“That’s not the point. There might not be much trust between Il Consiglio and the Petrov Bratva, but it doesn’t need to be like that between us.”

“I vowed to never trust a man again.”

And I don’t blame her, but I’m getting to the bottom of this. “Who’s the father?”

She shakes her head, on the verge of tears again.

“It’s the man who took those photos of you, isn’t it? The one you told me is dead?” An urge surges in me, red hot like anger, to protect her. “Is he really dead, or is he coming for you?”

“I was such a fool,” she chokes out. “Such a stupid, naive, gullible idiot.”

“You were in love,” I say softly. And here I am, jealous about a look she gave him, forever captured on camera.

She shakes her head. “Yes, but I was targeted. He didn’t care about me. Only seduced me with one sole intention. And for a good four months, I thought it was real. Our secret. He took my— He took everything. My virginity, my dignity, made me lie and betray my brother.”

Fucker. I reach for her hand, encouraging her with a soft squeeze to carry on.

“He used me to cement his hold in our family. It’s so fucked up. He was older than me, Ivan’s age. They were friends in Russia. Best friends.”

“A name, princess. Just say it once and I won’t ask for it again.”

She drags in a haggard breath. “Dimitri. Dimitri Mikhailov. Along with Ivan, he was my Papa’s right-hand man. The asshole planned a coup for six long years and then seduced me. Fucked with my contraception to get me pregnant so I’d be chained to him forever. So he could use me as a bargaining chip. A tool in his arsenal. My baby his to do with as he pleased, knowing once a child came into the equation, I’d do anything he asked me to do just to make sure she stayed safe. I was such an idiot.”

You were in love. Blinded by the intensity of it. No wonder she’s so bitter, so broken. I say nothing, letting her carry on.

“He infiltrated our lives, our house, our sanctuary. And then he led a coup against the Petrovs.”

She stills.

I wait.

When she stays silent, I ask, “How did he die?”

“Ivan. Nobody knows exactly what happened, but Ivan killed him during the coup on the Fourth of July. Sliced his throat. He bled out on my Steinway at our family house. I haven’t seen his body, but his blood…it’s everywhere. Between the keys. On the felt. The leather.” She convulses. “Ivan tried to clean it away, but…”

No wonder she can’t touch the Steinway I bought her. No wonder she doesn’t want to play the keys, every single one of them a reminder of death.

“How old is she? Your baby?”

“Four months.”

“What? Only four months?” Holy fucking hell. “Where is she?”

But the answer is already sinking in.

“She’s with Masha. Hence the money.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Luca. Do you understand why I’m so desperate to leave? To go back to Russia?”