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“He’s my husband, Mom.”
“And we’re”—she waggles her finger at me— “going to make you a widow. Franco will go after Viktor. I’ll make sure of it. You don’t need to worry.”
But that’s exactly what has me worried.
“Mom, can you make sure Franco doesn’t go after Viktor?”
She jerks away from me like I stung her. “What do you mean?”
I shrug. “I just mean … I don’t want Viktor to die. Tell Franco to stand down.”
“What are you thinking?” She stands up and starts pacing around the living room. “Why would you even want that? Don’t you want that monster killed for kidnapping you? For forcing you to marry him?”
“No.”
She blinks and begins to stutter. “What? What do you mean ‘no?’ You can’t be serious, Gemma.”
“And there it is,” I mutter under my breath.
“What was that? Don’t mumble around me.”
I sigh and stand up as well. “I said, ‘and there it is.’”
“What? What is there?”
“You! You always scolding me for something or another. I don’t want Viktor to die, ok? Just please convince Franco to not go after him. I promise that Viktor won’t hurt any of us anymore. He’s done with that.”
She huffs. “A man like that is never done. And why do you not want Viktor dead? He kidnapped you!”
“I know!” She jerks back from me. “I know, Mom,” I add in a softer voice. “But I still don’t want him to die.”
She squints at me for a moment. “Do you … do you care for him?” She sounds so incredulous; it’s almost funny.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” And I know the moment I say those words out loud, how true they are.
Mom is silent for a few seconds before she starts laughing in a cold, mocking way. “You can’t be serious, Gemma.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re not. Franco will find Viktor and kill him. End of story.”
I grab her arm, forcing her to look at me. “Can’t you ask him not to? For me? Please.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I want Viktor dead for what he did to you. Plus, do you really think I can convince Franco of anything? He doesn’t listen to me.”
“Could have fooled me. You’re his new mistress.”
Mom looks like I slapped her. It reminds me of the time she actually slapped me. “I amnothis mistress, and I never will be. This conversation is over.” She pulls out her phone and starts dialing a number.
“Who are you calling?”
“Your sister,” she snaps. “She’ll want to know you’re ok.”
“Is she back in LA?”
