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This “proof of life” just secured Mikhail’s painful death. If it’s the last thing I ever do, I’ll make him pay for hurting her. He’ll regret touching Cora for the rest of his short, miserable existence. I’m going to make sure of it.
Francia’s dark eyes are narrowed on me. I can’t tell if this was part of her plan or not. It wouldn’t surprise me if Mikhail was going off-book. He has never been one to follow strict orders. Growing up the spoiled only son of a maniac will do that to you. But Francia is inscrutable.
It doesn’t matter. She’ll die either way. Just like him.
I meet her eyes as I speak to Mikhail, my words slow and even. “I’m going to say this once, so you better listen.”
“God, you really think you control us all, don’t you?” he snarks. “You are not my—”
“If Cora screams like that again at any point between now and the end of time, I am going to burn your world to the ground.”
Mikhail has gone quiet. Francia’s lips purse, but she refuses to break eye contact with me. She knows as well as I do that the power balance between us is in flux. She has the upper hand now, but she’ll have to maintain it.
And I plan to make her fucking work for it.
“She isn’t yours anymore,” Francia spits, a hard edge to her voice.
“I’m not saying this because she’s mine,” I explain to them both. “This is because you made me an oath. Cora lives. Period. If you fail to fulfill your promise, I’ll kill you both.”
She arches a brow. “I guess you’ve always been a softie for women suffering, haven’t you? Your sister, Katerina…”
I don’t react. Tossing out Katerina’s name is her way of pushing me off-balance. But I’m immovable.
Soon enough, I’ll kill her and Mikhail. I’ll wipe every last Sokolov off the face of the earth. I’ll get Cora back and I’ll spend the rest of my life making this up to her.
Until then, the game is on.
Francia blows out a casual breath. “Well, I guess we’re all done here. Unless there’s anything left you want to discuss…?”
I don’t respond, but she carries on anyway.
“I’ll take your silence as a ‘no.’ So that’s that. I’ll be at your place in”—she checks her watch—“an hour? I guess it’sour placenow, isn’t it?”
Fuck, no. Never.
“That will take some getting used to.” She smiles and reaches out. Her hand strokes the air over my arm, not comfortable enough to touch me just yet. “For both of us.”
I step back, putting more space between us. “Don’t forget the details of our arrangement. You’ll have your wing. I’ll have mine.”
She rolls her eyes, but keeps a fake smile on her face. “I’ll be home in an hour. I have a few things to pack up first. Are you going to be there to carry your new bride over the threshold?”
“I’ll be there to watch,” I say flatly. “And unless you manage to break both your legs in the next hour, I’m sure you can walk in by yourself.”
Francia’s face is tight, but she forces out a laugh. “See you soon, darling.”
“Too soon,” I mutter.
If she hears me, she doesn’t show it. She sashays down the hallway and leaves me alone, my knuckles white around her phone.
6
CORA
I don’t even have tears to blink back.
The storm of faith and fears and courage and doubt that has raged through me for hours is suddenly quiet… which, in a weird way, is the worst feeling of all.
“I almost preferred when you had a little hope,” Mikhail comments. “It was more interesting.”
