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I’m treasured and valued. More than just a body to be used and disposed of.
No matter what this man says or anyone else, I’m worthy of more than this.
“Your own father thought you were common filth.” He moves into my line of vision and lifts his chin, looking down his nose at me. “You could have married my son and become part of this family. You could have given us the grandchildren we’ve always wanted. You could have been happy.”
Cole’s angry explosion that night years ago proves this theory wrong. I would have never been happy with Cole Morrison because underneath the easygoing façade, he was a monster just like my father. Cole didn’t value me, and he never would have treated me the way Luka does.
“But instead, you ran away,” he says. “You ran away from my son only to be sold off to your husband—the man who killed my son.”
Luka told me why he killed Cole Morrison. Because he betrayed our family and spoke ill of me, and Luka couldn’t let him live.
In the end, Cole’s own sense of self-importance got him killed, though I don’t think his father would appreciate that interpretation of events.
“And now you are desperate to get back to your owner.” Cole’s father snorts in disgust. “You think your husband loves you? He doesn’t. Just like everyone else, he knows you are only good for one thing.”
He kicks out at my knee, spreading my legs apart, and I’m quick to pull them back together.
I know he is wrong. I know he is trying to get inside my head and break me, but I also can’t ignore the painful wounds tearing open in my heart. Injuries that Luka has slowly and painstakingly sutured for me, now tearing open at the slightest bit of irritation.
No matter how far I try to run from my past, I will always be the girl who was broken by her father. Who was betrayed and abused and manipulated.
But just because that is part of my past, doesn’t mean it has to be my future.
I lift my head and look Cole’s father square in the eyes. “Luka loves me.”
He laughs. “We’ll see how useful that love is in the next few days.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I say, actually believing my own words. “No matter what happens, my husband loves me, and I love him. You don’t know anything about me.”
His smile falters, and he takes a step towards me, eyebrow raised. “That may be true, but I know one thing about you, Eve Volkov. One thing that is all I need to know.”
He leans forward until I can feel his hot breath on my skin. I want to look away, but I don’t want to show any weakness, so I maintain eye contact. He gets close enough that my eyes have to cross to keep looking at him, and for a second, I think he is going to kiss me. But he stops just short of my lips.
“I know that you are never going to see your husband or daughter again.”
With that, he turns on his heel and rushes out of the door.
I sit tall in my chair, watching him leave, but the minute his footsteps fade to silence, I sag down, chin on my chest, and cry.
4
Luka
Ipour more coffee into my mug, not bothering with cream or sugar. I just need the jolt of caffeine in my veins.
I haven’t slept at all, and I can only run so long on adrenaline. Despite my best efforts, I feel my energy waning.
When I turn back to the men sitting around my table, however, I feel a slight surge of energy. My lieutenants are here, and we are going to get Eve and Milaya back. I know it.
“The Irish took them,” I say flatly. The words roll off my tongue easily. They are facts, and I’m delivering them.
Underneath it, though, there is anger. Rage like I’ve never felt, and I know it could come exploding out at any second. “The Irish took my family.”
“I thought they disbanded,” Grigory says.
“They laid low long enough to make me feel comfortable.” I hate admitting my own weakness, but if I want my family back, I have to be honest.
Grigory nods and looks down at his hands. Usually, he is more outspoken. He isn’t afraid to challenge me, within reason, and ensure I am doing the best thing for the Bratva. Right now, though, he is quiet.
