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I look up at Francia as a storm cloud settles on her brow. She’s a vengeful bitch—that much has become blindingly obvious. If I’m going to navigate this relationship, I have to play it right. Carefully. I need her docile until I’m ready to make my next move. So for now, that means forcing little white lies down her throat one by one.
“You don’t want a hand-me-down, do you?” I croon. “I’ll get you your own ring. One that suits you.”
Preferably one tied to a cement block that is well on its way to meeting the bottom of the ocean.
Revenge fantasies are the only thing that will get me through this relationship with Francia, however long it has to last. Because outwardly, I’ll have to play my part. I’ll have to ease Francia’s vindictive side and lure her into a false sense of security. Until I can find Cora and kill everyone who played a part in separating us.
Francia’s smile grows slowly. Then she nods and pulls out her phone. “I like white gold. And big diamonds. Spare no expense.”
“I never have.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” She presses her phone to her ear. “It’s done.”
Then she has the audacity to wink at me. Like this chapter is finished.
But nothing about this is done.
We are just getting started.
4
CORA
Mikhail can’t shut up. He’s incapable of it. So I do my best to tune him out.
As he rattles off all of the ways that I’m ill-suited to be with Ivan, I count stones in the grimy wall across from me. While he keeps blabbing, I twist my wrists against my bindings until I nearly cry out from the pain. I’d rather sever my own hands with nothing but friction than spend another second in the same room with Mikhail Sokolov.
Thankfully, before I can get that far, Mikhail’s phone rings.
“Finally!” A wicked smile twists his pale face. “Francia must finally be done with him. That didn’t take long, did it?”
He’s a liar.Nothing he’s saying is true. He doesn’t know what happened between Francia and Ivan any more than I do.
Still, the words stick their landing in a deep, jealous part of me. I turn away so he doesn’t see me cringe.
He presses his phone to his ear and turns towards the wall, the smile disappearing from his face. “Well?”
I watch him carefully, but I can’t hear anything. This room is soundproof. Airproof, too.The stone walls and floor are stifling, swallowing any drop of sound that might try to make its way to me.
Mikhail nods and hums. He lets out a few “Okays.” None of it is useful. None of it eases the burning need to know where Ivan is and why he isn’t here with me.
But the longer I wait, the more Mikhail’s words slither behind my weakening defenses.
Ivan chose Francia. He saw the way she manipulated his security and played her role. The fire he saw in me? It burns ten times brighter in her. She is everything I could never be: a fierce Bratva wife. An asset to his empire.
He’s going to choose her and this will be the end of me.
I sit straighter. Is this how I die? In the dark at the hands of Mikhail Sokolov? I literally can’t think of a worse ending.
Then Mikhail turns back to me. His expression is unreadable, but he thrusts the phone towards my ear.
I look up at him, ready to ask what he’s doing. Then, without warning, he grabs my arm and twists.
Fire shoots up my injured wrist. My shoulder blade burns and my forearm scrapes against my bindings. I cry out and try to pull away, but it only makes it worse.
Mikhail lets go of me with a laugh, the phone back against his own ear. “How is that for proof of life?”
My body still aches, but it dulls in the rush of relief. Ivan wanted to make sure I was alive. He cares. He isn’t going to leave me here with Mikhail. He’s just making a deal and then he’ll get me out. I’ll be saved.
