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Bogdan looks over at me, and nods in encouragement.
“Abby,” I say, taking over, “after we met with your father in Miami, we did some… research. You know, gathered more information on him and… your family.”
“You did? What for?”
“Abby, why do you think you father would try to kill you?” I ask.
She looks at each of us, one at a time, like we might tell her we’re just making this shit up, that it’s a joke, and that everything will be fine.
Afraid not.
“Stop saying that about him—"
“Abby, what happens when you turn twenty-one?” I ask.
Her head whips in my direction and she narrows her eyes. “Why? Why do you need to know that?”
“We already know. We all do. You inherit a shit-ton of money left to you by your mother,” Bogdan adds.
She squeezes her eyes shut, like that will make everything go away. If I could make that happen, I would.
“H… how do you know that? Are you trying to steal my money? So you can take everything from me? Why don’t you just kill me and throw me on the side of the road? Get it over with,” she cries.
Fuck. I knew this would be hard.
“Abby, we don’t want your inheritance. Your father does,” Ilya says.
She shakes her head and brings her hands to her face. “No. No, he does no. That’s a lie.”
“Why do you think your mom took off but left you all that money?” I ask.
She takes her hands off her face, red and streaked with tears.
“She left you that money so you could get away from your father just like she had to. She didn’t leave because she wanted to. Shehadto.”
“I… I don’t understand. Dad always said she just up and left. Didn’t want to be a wife and mother any longer. Was done with the two of us.”
I can’t stand the pain in her eyes. She woke up this morning, took a swim in the beautiful Mediterranean Sea, relaxed on the yacht in the sun, then came ashore with us guys for an incredible dinner.
And look at her now. Destroyed. Just destroyed.
“I’m sorry, Abby. Sorry to be telling you this. But you have to know this if you want to remain safe. We’re pretty sure your dad is not negotiating with us because if you’re… out of the way, he gets your money,” I say. “He… he wants us to kill you and if we don’t, he will.”
The look on someone’s face when they realize the life they thought they had no longer exists is one of the most painful things to see.
And that’s what I’m looking at right now. I want to comfort Abby, but I doubt she’ll let me. She’s going to be angry. She’s going to rage. And she will take it out on the people in closest proximity—us. That’s why we brought her to the villa—she’ll be safer here, sure, but she’ll also have more privacy for feeling like shit.
As she should.
From across the room, I can feel her sadness. It’s unmistakable. And heartbreaking. I almost just want to let her go, walk away, be free. But her life’s in danger now, and who knows how long she’ll last out there without us guys.
Actually, I know the answer to that. Not fucking long at all. If her dad had the balls to send someone when he knows she’s surrounded by us guys, he’s pretty fucking desperate for her money. She’d be easy pickings on her own.
I can’t have that.
“Karol!” Bogdan calls.
He appears silently, like he always does. I know Karol’s been with Bogdan for a long time, but he occasionally gives me the creeps. I keep that to myself, though. The man does a lot of shit for us.
