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When he stepped back, the pages fell onto my lap. At a glance, I could see they were printouts of emails. Demian refused to leave, continuing to tower over me beside the bed. He looked worse than he did when he showed up at the hotel, his hair greasy and sticking up in clumps. There was a ketchup stain on his shirt. At least, I hoped it was only ketchup.
“Give me a little space,” I said weakly, rubbing the side of my head. “Did you really need to hit me so hard?”
He backed up, looking convincingly chagrined. Such a good liar. I decided to read the emails and disprove the lie he was trying to feed me about Roman.
Except, as I scanned the emails, it was clear right away that he was telling the truth. The messages weren’t from Roman, but from his brother Sergei. To Oleg Morozov. He was a powerful man back in Russia, and it was his nephews who ruled Miami with an iron fist and who we were trying to topple. He had a daughter named Evelina, who constantly gave us trouble, a son who was based in New York.
And now it seemed he had two more sons we hadn’t known about. A sense of despair settled over me as I began to read the first email from Sergei.
Since I’ve learned you were our biological father, I’ve had a lot of mixed emotions. I’m not one to jump into things the way Roman is. Unlike him, I don’t want anything to do with your businesses, either legal or otherwise. If this is a problem to you, then consider that you’ve only got one son and don’t contact me.
But if you can accept that, then perhaps we can meet.
It was signed very formally with Sergei’s full name. Oleg wrote back.
While I’m thrilled that Roman wants to help our family business in any way he can, rest assured I’d be as welcoming to him if he didn’t. Family is the most important thing to me. I cared for your mother and have deep regrets that…
I stopped reading, the small print going blurry through my tears. I blinked them away and looked up at Demian. The pity on his face was genuine.
“Look at the dates, Karine,” he said.
Frowning, I scanned to the top of Sergei's first email to Oleg Morozov. His father. Roman’s father. If I thought I knew what agony was a few seconds ago, those awful feelings couldn’t compare to the pain that ripped through me. The message was sent before my wedding. Before Papa had told me, I was to marry Roman.
“He knew before,” I whispered, the first tear falling onto the paper in my hands. I angrily swiped it away. “He let me go through with it.” I couldn’t say aloud or admit to myself that he had set it up.
“I tried to help you get away,” Demian said, unable to keep a self-satisfied grin off his face.
“You only offered because you wanted me for yourself,” I snapped.
The pain became unbearable, dwarfing the aches left over from the explosion, making my throbbing headache recede into the background. I pressed my face against my knees, struggling to breathe. He’d known. My father set me up. Roman had set me up. Betrayals from all sides. I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. I had to concentrate on my anger. That was easier than the feeling that my heart had been stamped into the mud by the two men I’d trusted with my life.
“He almost got away with it,” Demian said, as if I wasn’t about to die from heartbreak. “He hid his identity well, though it was easy since he didn’t know himself he was a Morozov until recently. He sure did want to join the fold, though. If we hadn’t decided to look into his brother, we might have been in the dark as much as you were.”
I sat up, glaring at him, embracing the rage that flooded my system. Yes, so much better than feeling like a stupid pawn, a sheep to the slaughter. All the stories Roman told me about being raised by a single mother must have been true. When he’d found out he had a father, and a powerful one at that, he’d wanted to make him proud at any cost. Even though I was the price, I could relate to his motives.
“You were collateral damage, Karine,” Demian said almost gleefully. I longed to thrust out my foot and kick him. “Feliks sold you down the river to the enemy, letting you marry Roman to keep him close. So we could trick the Morozovs to show up for an ambush and take out all their leaders in one battle. We were going to make sure Roman was one of those casualties, and then you would have been free of him, at least.”
I kept shaking my head as if I could ward off his words, but I believed him now. And I hated him as much as I hated my father. Did I hate Roman? Just thinking about him gave me a stabbing pain in my chest.
Demian moved closer, leaning down and gripping my chin. “Your father let that traitor stick his dick inside you, Karine. Did you like it? He could have given you to someone loyal, to someone who’s loved you for years, but he let a Morozov take you to bed.”
I jerked out of his grip and wiped the feel of his hand off my jaw. Not even his disgusting words could get through the haze of rage and sorrow that seemed to cover me like a suffocating blanket.
“But why?” I whispered, more to myself than to Roman. “Just because I always followed orders and never caused trouble, did he think I was stupid? Why leave me in the dark? I would have gone along with the ruse just like I went along with the wedding.”
It was true. That was how loyal I was to Papa and our family name. But I wouldn’t have thought I was getting married for life. I wouldn’t have put time and energy into a relationship that meant nothing. I wouldn’t have fallen in love with Roman.
I had to keep it together. I would have rather died than let Demian know how I felt. How I’d fallen for Roman’s lies and given him my heart. I laughed pitifully, not a trace of humor behind the empty sound. Maybe I was as stupid as they all thought.
Demian didn’t notice or care how broken I was and shrugged off my questions. “It wasn’t so much that your father thought you were stupid. You were just more useful being left in the dark.”
Not being trusted was almost worse. I nearly retched at how sick finding out everything I’d known was a lie made me feel. Demian moved closer, sitting beside me on the bed, and my stomach heaved more.
His hand slid up my front to rest on my neck, a light grip but still menacing. He leaned closer, his foul breath blowing into my face. “I’ll jump ship for you Karine,” he said, his grip tightening around my neck, his lips moving closer to mine. “All you need to do is choose me over him. I don’t even care how many times he’s used your body. I still want you. You’re still beautiful to me. Tell me the word and we can leave this minute. Or, after I’m done showing you how I feel.”
His hand began to slide down my neck as he pressed his mouth against mine, trying to force my lips apart with his snakelike tongue. With my free hand I grabbed a handful of his greasy hair and jerked back, then headbutted him as hard as I could between the eyes. My vision blurred to sparkles of light, and pain rocketed to the back of my skull at the impact of his nose.
Blood gushed as he fell backward, his foul hand thankfully off of me at last. I thrashed at the cuff that was chained to the bed, nearly breaking my wrist in an effort to get free. So much pain jolted up my arm that I nearly passed out. But I couldn’t. I had to stay awake, because who knew what he’d do to me if was helpless?
