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With a dip of his head, he seethes his response, his breathy words so close to me, I can taste them instead of hearing them. “You’re right.”
Then he straightens up, adjusts his tie, and stalks toward the viewing room, leaving me in the corner, my jaw on the floor next to my feet.
I stand in that spot for a few minutes until sweat drizzles down my back, soaking my dress. Fanning my face doesn’t do much to help, so I venture down a hallway far away from the fireplace, sweeping a hand over the back of my neck where my hair is plastered against my damp skin. Spotting a tissue box on one of the end tables, I grab a few and mop the sweat from my neck and back.
I shouldn’t have said any of that. I meant it…most of it, anyway. But the part about his mom? That was brutal. Mean. And I don’t consider myself either of those things.
Dabbing at my cleavage with the tissue, I glance around the living room area, not recognizing a single face. This is the last viewing before the actual burial, so a lot of people have come to give their final condolences. My throat tightens when an image of Tato lying in his casket flashes before my eyes.
For as callous and cold as Danil is, I know how he feels right now. I understand his anger, his need for vengeance, for answers. And there is some shred of humanity left in his charred heart because I see how he responds to Daniela — how he looks at her and smiles at her. That means something.
If he was pure evil, could he fake it for her benefit?
Would he bother?
I take a deep breath and walk into the viewing room. He stands alone by the casket, his head bent, holding Daniela in his arms. Irina is dressed all in white, looking angelic against the satin interior. Overflowing vases of lilies and brightly colored floral wreaths scent the room, the tasteful décor creating an atmosphere of serenity and peace. I take a seat on one of the couches on the side of the room nearest the door and pick up a photograph. A pretty blonde woman sits on a pool float with a little dark-haired boy. Both are laughing.
Danil and his mother.
I look back at where he stands, still staring down at his mother. My chest tightens, my caustic words replaying in my mind. He didn’t need to hear that today, of all days. Leaning forward, I cover my face with my hands and let out a muffled sigh.
“You must be the baby mama.”
I drop my hands, furrowing my brow at the woman standing in front of me. “And you must be the welcoming committee.”
A gorgeous girl with aqua eyes and a swollen belly sits down next to me. “Natasha Malikov,” she says, holding out her hand. “I’m Luka’s wife.”
“I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but we both know that’d be a big fat lie.”
“Please be careful about using the word ‘fat’.” Natasha groans and shifts on the cushion. “Tori told me about her visit with you this morning. She’s not usually so friendly and engaging, but the raging pregnancy hormones have turned the malice in her blood to sugar. She’s an exception, and the rest of us aren’t as enamored with the idea of you around the family.”
She leans closer. “My body, on the other hand, has rejected the sweet and embraced all things revenge. And I want you to know that an attack on our family at your brothers’ hands will be dealt with in the most brutal ways you can possibly imagine. My husband will not rest until the people who murdered my mother-in-law are found and tortured beyond the point of recognition. And there is a large bullseye on your family name, Larysa.”
I wipe my clammy palms on the cushion next to me. “Look, I already told Danil. My family wasn’t involved—”
“He said as much. But Danil has good instincts and he’s not buying it. Neither are the rest of us.” Natasha puts her hand over mine and squeezes. “Consider this a warning. Today is a very sad day for us. We’ve lost a lot. And since I’m sure you don’t want to suffer another loss, you’d better hope your family rethinks their plot to hurt us. Because it will hurt the people you love a lot more.”
With a grunt, Natasha uses the arm of the couch to push herself to a standing position. She waddles away without another look back at me. I rise on shaky legs, my heart racing like it’s being chased. Harsh stares bore into me, strangers judging me for something I had no part of.
The urge to run grabs hold. I just want to grab my daughter and escape this looping nightmare.
I stare at the back of Danil’s head, willing him to look at me. Natasha slides next to him, shooting a pointed glare in my direction as she lays a hand on his arm. A knot of tears constricts my throat to the point of choking. I back away, and turn toward the doorway. My shoulder slams into a bald man with his beady eyes on the casket.
I reach out to steady myself. “I’m so sorry.” But the guy doesn’t even mutter a response, he just brushes past, almost knocking me over again.
Seriously? I shake my head, ready to turn to the door again when a strong hand grabs my wrist and yanks me back.
I gasp. “What the hell?”
But before I can get a clear look at who’s manhandling me in the sea of faces that’s just appeared, the bald man pulls a gun from his jacket and points it toward the casket.
My vision floods with red. Daniela. My baby girl.
Natasha’s caustic words come rushing forth.
“There is a large bullseye on your family name, Larysa.”
“No!” I lurch forward, anchored by the hand holding me back. For an agonizing second, I lock eyes with Danil where he stands with our daughter, just before the bullets explode into the air.
