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“And why would I do that?” he interjects, crossing his arms. The simple motion highlights just how large he is compared to me. A wall of muscle and power I have no chance at withstanding.
“Why?” I echo hollowly.
On the surface, such a plan makes little sense. But Mischa taught me well. I do what he would: view the situation from a different angle. I let my paranoia run rampant.
“Because I was never your true target,” I blurt. “I’m still valuable to you, but one person could strengthen your position more than Robert’s illegitimate wife. His son.” My throat aches as I think of Eli, blissfully unaware of the games being played with him as a pawn. “You tried to bribe me into seeking him out myself. Maybe you would have revealed your plan then. But I refused. So you needed another method. For whatever reason, you knew that Robert would keep me near him. I just don’t understand why.”
“Why?” He faces me directly, his mouth thoughtfully tilted. “He’s an easy man to manipulate—once you understand him.”
“Robert?” I risk venturing a guess. “I think your goal was always to get control of Eli.”
“He’s the heir,” he says simply. “Without him, Robert can’t shore up support. Eventually, his empire will crumble around his fucking hands—”
“Then why didn’t you say something!” My voice rings out, bleating and broken. It’s a weakness. One I desperately try to regain control of, choking any hint of tears back. “Why all the secrecy and the lies?”
“And concede it all to Mischa?”
I jump as he advances toward me and brushes his hand along my cheek. Stripped of any feigned gentleness, his touch burns: callused flesh and brute strength.
“Mischa, the impulsive, violent fool who would run this enterprise into the ground?”
“You killed him.” I fight any lingering tears back and force myself to meet his stare. This is the one truth I won’t let him avoid. “Didn’t you?”
“No.” He sighs. Disappointed in that fact? “I didn’t. But he is dead. I can assure you of that.”
“And Vanya?” Again, my voice breaks. Gasping for air, I can’t disguise the pain in it any longer. “Mischa was your rival, fine. But your own brother?”
“Ivan was an accident,” he admits, turning his back to me. Even so, guilt radiates from his hunched posture—which only confuses me further.
“An accident?”
“Yes! Don’t look at me with hate in your eyes,” he snaps. “I loved him, even when he betrayed me. I was the only person who ever looked after him.”
“Like with my mother?”
He should laugh at the insinuation. It’s too petty to even consider. But he shoots me a look that chills my blood. It gleams with the malice he managed to conceal until now.
And I can easily discern the truth.
“You lied to him about her,” I whisper in horror. “Didn’t you?”
“Your mother…” He laughs darkly, failing to hide the loathing in his voice. “She was a haughty little bitch. She had Ivan wrapped around her finger. She put ideas into his head. Made him question what he shouldn’t.”
“Like you,” I surmise. “She didn’t trust you.”
“No.” His mouth flattens into a thoughtful line. “I suppose she didn’t. Ever since I ordered my men to leave her precious whelp behind.”
He says it so coldly that one could miss the true cruelty implied.
“Briar.” I fight to keep the disgust from my tone. “You used her as a bargaining chip. Didn’t you?”
On paper, he had a powerful weapon against the Winthorps in the form of Marnie to use against Robert Sr.
But he still needed leverage to control the woman herself.
And a mother would do anything for her child.
Even if it cost her the man she loved.
