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Her eyes flared. Instantly, she spat, “Then act like it.”

And I paused.

Anika had never spoken to me like that. Not ever. And it prickled.

I blinked at her as she glowered at me, and after a moment, her face turned unreadable. All signs of emotion lost. She withdrew back into her void.

My heart began to pound.

I was sick of this. Sick of being lied to. Sick to death of worrying about them both.

“What is going on with you?” I asked gravely. “I know you’re going through some shit, but you’re moody. You’ve lost weight.” I added on a whisper, “Your hair is falling out. Are you…” It was a morbid thought that flashed in my mind. “Are you sick?”

Anika let out a bitter laugh. “I wish.”

She wished she was sick?

I couldn’t even begin to comprehend why she would say that.

My heart ached at her detachment. And I attempted to resolve it. “Hey. What do you say we have a girls’ night? Just you and me?”

Ani lowered her gaze and sniffed indifferently. She stood and walked out of the bathroom, but not before uttering a listless, “No thanks.”

Doroteya scooped more pasta onto my plate, and when Vik saw the expression on my face, he clicked his tongue and said, “Ma, leave her alone. She’s not hungry.” My cheeks blazed furiously when he added a sly, “She just ate.”

Anika’s fork dropped to her plate. With a bored expression, she pushed up out of her chair, stood, and uttered, “I need to be excused.”

Her retreating back was taut, rigid, and I got the awful feeling that my friend no longer viewed me as such.

24

Anika

“What a disappointment you turned out to be,” said the sneering witch standing in my open doorway.

She strolled into my room like it was her right, and I let her, because… well, the last time I slammed a door in her face, she slammed me into a wall.

Ksenia had always been a hard woman. She had no daughters of her own. Perhaps that was her excuse for treating me so harshly. Her sons were all Bratva stock. I’d only met my cousins once, but they gave off an eerie feel about them. They were proud of the reputation they earned. They were referred to as heartless. Brutal. Psychopaths, even.

Their mother was very much the same, only she managed to hide those traits better than they had.

Now, as my aunt moved closer to me, I swallowed hard as I chanced a look into her eyes.

They were cold. Scornful. So full of contempt.

“I do not know why you are delaying your assignment, but it needs to be done, my flower.”

My heart beat out of time.

She wouldn’t understand. I could never reveal to her why I couldn’t do what she demanded. If I showed my true emotions, it would give her too much leverage over me.

And I’d already lost too much of myself.

What I had left, I cradled close, scared to death that she might rip it from my frail hands.

I couldn’t let that happen.

“I haven’t been feeling well,” I uttered tonelessly.

The closer she advanced, the more rigid my body strung, tight like a bow. Dressed in black, she sat beside me and put a gentle hand to my forehead.

I shuddered.

“You feel fine to me,” she said with an undertone of accusation.

I took my big brown teddy bear off the bed and hugged it to me, holding it close like a protective barrier. “What you’re asking me to do… it’s not going to be easy.”

“I have faith in you. You will find a way.”

My palms began to sweat. I swallowed hard. “It’s impossible. He hates me.”

So, when she stood, unspeaking, then crouched down in front of me, I braced. And when she put her hands to my upper arms, tightening her hold until it pinched my delicate flesh, I remained impassive.

I loathed to show just how much she hurt me. Ksenia got off on it.

She squeezed tighter, and when her nails dug into my flesh, she glared at me, her lip curling in distaste. The thinly veiled threat was clear. “You will find a way.”

My jaw taut, I breathed through the pain as I refused to look away from her.

My aunt. My tormentor.

“I’ll find a way,” I muttered shakily, even if to hold her off a while.

Ksenia smiled then. It disturbed me that it was identical to my mother’s. “See that you do.” She stood and made her way to the door. When she got there, she paused, her expression unreadable. “Do you know what they do to useless animals in Russia?”

My heart jumped in my chest. “No.”

My aunt grinned darkly. “You are very close to finding out.”

The minute she was out of my room, I stood and rushed over to the door, closing it and pressing my back against the cool wood. I couldn’t breathe. I huffed and puffed, and as I stretched my T-shirt to pull it away from my body, my lungs burned.

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