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“I didn’t make this decision, Jonas. You forced me into it.”
“You didn’t exactly fight, Liya. I don’t see you suffering here.” He gestures to the lavish penthouse suite. Its riches speak a different story than how I feel inside. “Do what you need to do. If it means being a good wife or whatever the hell else Pavel wants, then fucking do it.”
Willow’s voice crashes through my pulsing headache:Your brother is the reason you’re stuck in life. You’ve always put him before yourself.
I stare at the man who’s given me nothing but strife over the years. Protection, sure. Food, yes. But care? Attention? Emotional well-being?
Never.
I grip the mug in my hand, the heat biting through my palm. I spot Viktoria coming from the kitchen and shake my head. Now isn’t a good time. She heeds my warning and disappears.
“My whole life has been wrapped around what you want,” I state shakily. “Everything has always been about helping you without any regard for what I want or what I’m trying to do.”
“What have you ever tried to do with your life?”
I frown. “Live it. Without you constantly having me do your dirty work. Maybe you ought to pullyourweight for once. Ever think about that, Jonas?”
Fuck, I shouldn’t have said that.
I shouldn’t have said thatat all.
The sound of the slap cracks through my ears before the pain registers on my cheek.
“You fuckingbitch,” Jonas yells. “You selfish, conceitedcunt!”
Hot tea splashes my leg as I raise my arms to shield myself. I know that sound, that awful tinge of rage to his words. It means trouble. It means the worst kind of trouble.
And I’m in for a lot more than just a headache when it’s over.
Jonas balls his hand into a fist and prepares to strike. I cower forward, crouching on my knees as I cover my head from practice. I brace for impact from the vicious hit that I know will make me see stars. My back twitches with anticipation over the familiarity of it all as I whimper like a coward.
Like a weak little girl.
I’ve failed.
But the hit never comes.
Instead, my husband’s voice booms. “What thehellis going on in here?”
I lift my head from my protective cover and see Pavel gripping Jonas’s hand. In the dreaded silence of what I knew was coming, I didn’t hear my husband come home. I didn’t hear anything but my blood pumping through my ears like the rhythmic beat of a drum.
Jonas snatches his hand away. “You’ve got my sister, Pavel. When the fuck are you going to deliver the Citta Nostra to me?”
Pavel ignores my brother. The sight of his snub inspires me, especially the fresh flush of anger on my brother’s face.
But it’s a short-lived victory. Because I know I’m going to pay for it.
Not now. But later.
“Liya,” Pavel says through a clenched jaw. “What is going on?”
My feet nearly fail me as I stand up. I hug my shoulders, distinctly aware of the burn on my leg from the tea. It wasn’t boiling hot, but it was hot enough. My cheek stings from Jonas’s slap, but I ignore it, trying to find the words.
Pavel studies my expression. That’s all the response he seems to need. He loosens his tie and then grabs Jonas by the throat, hauling him out to the terrace.
When he dangles Jonas over the rail, I shriek. “Pavel,don’t!”
He fixes me with the wildest gaze I’ve ever seen. This man isravenousfor violence. He seems to need it to right a wrong done to him by any means possible. I see the terror on my brother’s face and feel somewhat justified but too freaked out to truly process it.
