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I’m seriously confused. I don’t know what I did to her, to her child. I’ve never even met her children. Rostam has always kept his wives and his children very secluded from the rest of the organization. I don’t know if that was out of an effort of protecting them against his father, or what. I didn’t ask, and I honestly never cared, but now I’m concerned.
“You took my daughter. Your man, your people. Whatever the hell you are. No, I know exactly what you are. Evil is what you are.”
She lunges toward me with the knife, but I jump back slightly. I can’t go too far, the last thing that I need to happen, is for very pregnant Zinaida to become harmed in any way with a knife. Holding up my palms, I tell her that she doesn’t want to do this, but her determined look and maniacal laugh prove otherwise.
“My daughter is now a prostitute. A whore. She’s working at that club for your people. She’s only eighteen, so fuck you. Fuck all of you.”
Then it happens. She doesn’t just lunge, she straight leaps forward. She doesn’t get far. Her entire body is almost suspended in the air as she lets out a gasp and then places her hand at her belly.
Blood.
Then there’s another shot, and her body drops immediately to the ground.
“Fuck her,” the guard growls behind me. Turning around, I look up at him. He gives me a smirk and a shrug. “Those girls down at the gentleman’s club are not whores. They’re just trying to make it in the world. And you are not the reason her daughter is there,” he states.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He jerks his chin. “It’s my job, Isabel.”
