by Henry, Jane
A shadow crosses his face.
“It’s too late,” he says. I can’t read his gaze. He’s distant and cold, even as he holds me. “They found her,” he says. “Amaranov’s son brought her to him. Why? I don’t know.” His voice hardens. “He will have to tell you, since you’re such good friends.”
“Are you telling me that Glen is Amaranov’s son?”
Demyan nods, giving me a wary look before he releases me. I stumble a little before I get my footing.
“He is. And you’re telling me honestly you did not know?”
I shake my head.
“Amaranov has two sons. One was the man who came here and killed Anatoly.”
And then I remember. I remember the day that man came here, I recognized him. I couldn’t remember why or how I knew him, but I know now.
Glen’s brother.
He was his brother. Glen had one picture he saved. It sat on his mantle, and I know now that’s why I recognized him.
“Wait. Who found her?” I ask. “Is Calina okay?”
Demyan frowns at me. “When your friend took her to Amaranov, Amaranov tried to take advantage of her. He thought she was you, of course.” He spit the words out. “Just like we all did. She fought and tried to hurt him. Amaranov’s men shot her.”
“No,” I whisper. “No.”
But he isn’t listening to me. He’s still fixated on what he’s done.
“I punished the wrong person,” he whispers. “I hurt you. I took advantage of you, thinking you were another.”
His face is pained when he grimaces in self-loathing.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says. “I hope one day you can forgive me.” Closing his eyes briefly, he swallows hard before he continues. “You must leave,” he says. “I will give you money and take you anywhere you need to go. You are not mine to keep. I have no claim on you. You do not belong to me.”
My knees feel weak, and I stumble forward. This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
He’s giving me what I want, but why do I hate this? But I can’t think of this, because I have to find out about Calina.
“You have to go,” he says. “You must.”
The next half hour passes in a blur. Demyan tells me to dress, and brings me to his driver. I barely say a word to him, because I don’t even know where to begin. And how could I ever explain that somehow I don’t want to go? I can’t say that because I know this must be some sort of psychological game my mind is playing on me. It would be foolish to want to stay with the man who held me captive.
But this is Demyan, and I don’t care what anyone says, he meant those vows.
He did he did he did.
“Go far away,” he says, and my heart aches. My throat is tight, and my eyes burn. There’s a tingling in my nose. I’m going to cry. I’m going to fucking cry.
He doesn’t even look at me as he goes on. “For your own good. You must. Please.”
“We can work this out together. Both of us.” I tell him, pleading.
But his face has hardened. His eyes are icy blue, cold and distant, when he says, “No. There is us. I will never forgive myself for what I’ve done. You must go.”
I cling to him. This was what I wanted, so why does it feel so wrong?
“Demyan, no,” I plead, but his impassive face makes my chest ache.
“You lied to me. You have betrayed the trust we forged. Leave,” he says, his voice hardening. “This will be your only chance.”
The lump in my throat threaten to choke me, tears burning in my eyes I refuse to shed.
He drops a purse of money on the car seat.
“Forgive me, kisa.” He goes to leave but then seems to think better of it. He pulls me to him, grasping either side of my face. He kisses my forehead so firmly, my throat tightens.
This is a farewell kiss. So much spoken in that kiss he can’t voice. I hold onto his arms so tightly, not wanting him to release me, but I know he will. I know he can’t let himself hold onto me, he’s too proud. That now he knows he has no claim on me, he has to let me go, because he might be the head of the most ruthless crime ring in all of Russia, but the man has a moral code he lives by.
When he pulls my arms off of him and pushes me toward the car, I stifle a sob. I don’t want to leave him. I want to make this better again.
But I have to find Calina. I have to get her help. I need to make this right.
Then he helps me into the car and buckles me in and I let him do it. I’m numb. Focused. He shuts the door and the driver begins to leave. I clutch the door handle in a moment of denial.
“Go,” he orders. “Your sister’s debt is forgiven. But I have no claim on you. Take the money and find a new home.” He must sense hesitation on my part because a shadow crosses his features. “Go.”
I turn from him, tears streaming down my face. I swipe at them angrily.
Numb. Broken. Angry. Shaking.
I need to go to Calina. I need to find her. I won’t go anywhere unless I know she’s alive or dead.
So I’m no longer his. Perhaps I never was.
He doesn’t feel the way I do. There is no love in this. I was a mere plaything he’s now discarding.
Fine. My purpose is clear.
I will find my sister.
I release the door handle and turn frontward, taking a shuddering breath.
“Take me to Amaranov,” I tell the driver.
“Amaranov?” he repeats.
“Amaranov.”
Chapter 19
I let her go. I let the beautiful, passionate, headstrong woman I love go. My chest feels heavy, my throat too hot. I can hardly think straight. I need answers she can’t give me.
How will I ever forgive myself for what I’ve done?
I punished her.
I fucked her.
I held her captive and she was an innocent.
I allow myself to pace while I mull over what I have to do next. I ignore the way my skin feels too tight, the way blood pounds in my ears while I face what I’ve done.
But I don’t have the luxury of time. I need to find out what’s happening with my men.
I call Maksym. “Where are you?” I ask. “What have you found out?”
“We are at Amaranov’s,” he says in a hushed whisper. “He doesn’t know we are here. We have his son.”
His son. The man who orchestrated the lie. The connection to my wife.
My wife.
“Put him on the phone,” I say. I want to talk to the man who knows her.
A minute later, a man speaks into the receiver. “Yes.”
“Are you Glen Amaranov?”
“I was.”
“And now you go by Glen Gustav?” I can’t keep the anger out of my voice. This man caused destruction and chaos, and he’s affiliated with the man who wants my girl.
“Yes.”
“Tell me everything you know.”
“Who are you?” he spits into the phone. “How do I—”
But clearly, Makym’s ready to make him talk, for I hear a thud and an oof into the phone. “You speak to him,” Maksym growls in the background. “Now.”
“Fine,” the man says, then Maskym must threaten him because he amends his tone. “I’m sorry. Yes. What can I answer for you?”
“The woman you took to your father. Her name was Calina Brague? Tell me what you know.”
He sighs. “They are twin sisters. Calina was under my care, and her sister went to you so you wouldn’t hurt her sister.”
Crazy, brave, strong girl.
I want to find her and kiss her for her bravery even while I want to shake her for doing something so dangerous.
“Go on.”
“My father wanted Calina. He told me he made a proposition you refused.”
“Of course I fucking refused,” I agree. “Go on.”
“He asked me to find her and fetch her. My father and I were estranged, but he offered to pay me. So I thought I could fool him by giving him h
er sister. Only she didn’t take too kindly to that. She… flipped out. And his men shot her.”
I take in a ragged breath. “Why did she call you?”
“She was checking on her sister.”
God.
She wasn’t calling her man. She was calling to check on her sister. She bore my unrighteous anger and begged me to listen to her.
I close my eyes and grip the phone tighter. Grateful I didn’t punish her further for what I thought she did. I would never be able to forgive myself. Even what I did is unforgivable.
Realization dawns on me, crystal clear.
I told her that her sister had been shot at Amaranov’s.
If I know her, she didn’t do what I told her. She didn’t leave and save her own ass. This is the woman who laid down her own life for love of her sister.
Beautiful, headstrong, fierce girl.
“Put me back on the phone with my brother.”
Maksym comes on the phone.
“I let her go,” I tell him. “And it was a mistake. If I know her, she’ll go straight to Amaranov.” I’m already getting dressed. I need to get there first. “I’m on my way. Tell our brothers to be ready for what goes down.”
Chapter 20
The estate looms in front of us, guarded with a locked gate. Of course.
“Is this where you want to go?” the driver says with trepidation. “I can’t go further.”
“Here,” I tell him. “Yes, thank you.” Clutching the bag Demyan gave me, I take some money out and hand it to the driver. “You took me into the city. Understood?”
He nods. I step out of the car. My mind teems with all I’ve learned today, but I can’t focus on any of that. On Glen. Calina being shot. Amaranov.
The way Demyan kissed me before I left.
None of that matters now. All that matters is getting to Calina.
I refuse to believe she’s dead. I won’t, until I hold her limp and lifeless body in my very own arms.
It’s an easy matter of getting past the lock at the gate. Hacking 101. I override the locking mechanism, and quickly slip through the gates when they open. I make a path through the thick trees that surround his estate, my movements quick and lithe, my head tucked down so that cameras won’t easily see me. Soon, none of that will matter, but for now I need to move.
This is a big estate, and it takes me some time to get the basic layout. After several minutes of quietly walking the perimeter, I finally find what looks like Amaranov’s office. A large desk sits behind picture windows.
Is she even here? What did they do with her after they shot her? I need to find Glen. Hell, if I could even find Amaranov… I don’t have any weapons or even a phone, but if I could just get to him…
“Stay right there.” I freeze when the low command comes from right behind me. I turn my head slowly to see the scowling face of Maksym. And Jesus, he’s got Glen with him. The traitor. The fucking traitor. I hate him. I’ll kill him.
I turn to face them.
Maksym’s holding onto Glen and glaring at me to stay put. He held me down once before, at Demyan’s command. He could do it again.
“Oh I’m not going anywhere,” I tell Maksym. “Do me a favor? You’re so good at holding down people who deserve punishment…” my voice trails off as both men look at me curiously. I rear back, then slap Glen’s face so hard his head snaps back, and my red handprint paints his cheek. I want to beat him, but a beating right now would draw attention to us.
“You fucking traitor,” I hiss. “I gave her to you to protect.”
Maksym eyes us both curiously, still holding Glen. He picks up his phone.
“I have her. East side, below the large white awning.”
He tucks his phone in his pocket.
I blink. Oh, God. Is he working with Amaranov? Does this go even deeper than I thought? I look at him curiously, but he remains impassive, like a big, burly brick wall.
Instead, I turn to Glen. “What did you do?” I ask.
“Tried to save your ass,” he says with a scowl.
“Mine?” I say. “The one thing I asked you to do was protect Calina.”
I start at the sound of a familiar voice behind me.
“Why don’t you clang some gongs and announce your presence? Shoot some flares, perhaps?” No. It can’t be. But then it dawns on me.
Maksym didn’t call Amaranov. He called Demyan, who was smart enough to know exactly where I would go.
I turn to him, my heart squeezing at the sight of him. My pulse races, my mouth dry. I love this man. Against all odds, against my better judgment, against all that is right and true and smart in this world, I love this man, and when I see him, I know then that this is all going to be alright. That together, we’re going to fix this. We have to.
But he hurt me. He broke me. I tremble when I look into his eyes.
“We don’t need your help,” I tell him coldly. He broke my heart and I won’t give him a second chance. “Go. We’ve got this. You don’t need to be here.”
He rolls his eyes, effectively dismissing me. “It’s time we find your sister,” Demyan says to me, his voice tight, before he looks to the house. He doesn’t touch me or even look at me, remaining detached and aloof.
But he came. And even though I’m pissed at him, the truth is, he came here to help me find Calina, and I’ll never forget that.
“They had her in his office,” Glen says with a sigh. “He wouldn’t want news of her death to leak to the media, so my guess is he had her brought to a guest room to be seen by a doctor before he covers this up.”
Glen points to a window to the right. “My guess would be there. The best way to gain access would be to enter the kitchen. This time of day it will likely be vacant.”
Glen knows this house because he lived here. I shake my head. There are too many questions and not enough answers.
Demyan takes Glen by the scruff of the neck and forces him to lead us toward the kitchen. He doesn’t trust him. He doesn’t trust anyone. I can’t say I blame him after all that’s happened.
I pick the lock while Demyan scowls at me, clearly not pleased with my skills. But I don’t look at him. As soon as the door swings free, we all pad noiselessly inside. Is it too late? Will Calina be okay? God, I’ve fucked this up so badly.
We go up a small flight of stairs and down a hall toward a room Glen points to. But when I round the corner, guards stand at attention on either side of the door. I pull back, my back flat against the wall, and look to Demyan and Maksym.
“What now?”
Demyan looks at the man guarding the door. “We could easily take them, but how much of a commotion would that cause?”
“We could try a means without force,” Maksym says. “Filip says Amaranov is in his office. Amaranov wants Calina. It’s all he really wants. If she offers herself to him and asks to be taken to her sister…”
“No fucking way,” Demyan growls. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Dem, I mean just to get an in. For Christ’s sake, listen. It could work.”
But Demyan shoots him such a withering, furious look, Maksym clamps his mouth shut and shrugs.
“Maksym has a point. Ambushing and brute force will end in bloodshed.” I shake my head. “We can’t do it that way.” I turn to Glen. “Where is the office?”
Demyan releases Glen and reaches for me, but it’s too late. Glen has already pointed down the hall to a doorway. Before anyone can stop me, I take off at a run.
The guard in the hallway shouts for me to stop, and there’s a commotion behind me, but I ignore it all. I yank open the office door, and breathe a sigh of relief when Amaranov himself, clad in a suit, a pen in hand with a pad of paper in front of him, sits at a desk. Behind him there’s an adjacent room that looks like a library.
He isn’t alone. My heart gives a great lurch when I see Calina laying on a couch in the library. She isn’t in the guest room at all. I slam and lock the door behind me, so Demyan and Maksym and Glen don
’t fuck this up.
Amaranov blinks at me, then looks at Calina on the couch. Is she breathing? Is she okay?
I turn to face Amaranov. He pushes his thick, meaty fists on the desk to push himself to rising, and stops the guard who barges into the office.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asks in a growl.
“I’m Larissa Brague,” I tell him, my voice tremulous but strong. “Wife to Demyan Federov. I am the woman you want, not her. The woman who lies here is my sister. She isn’t the one you want. You want me, and you can have me, if you let her go and get her the help she needs.”
He narrows his terrible eyes at me, then looks to her and back again. “She isn’t you,” he says, mulling it over. Then his eyes brighten. “And you are Federov’s. The girl that I want.”
“I am.” I speak loud and clear. “My husband is a bit protective.” I decide to push this a little further. “But if you side with his brotherhood, they can give you what you’ve asked for. I’ll see to it myself.” I want to run to Calina. I steal a glance at her. She’s bandaged and white, her eyes closed as she sleeps. Her chest rises and falls.
She’s alive.
My skin prickles when he draws near. Somehow, I’m saddened that I don’t hear them coming behind me. Even though I don’t want Demyan to come in here, why isn’t he at least trying?
Has he been captured? Will he go back to jail? The thought of him being hauled back there makes nausea swirl in my belly. I’ve made such a mess of all this.
“Such a pretty little girl,” Amaranov says. My stomach knots when he steps so close his breath ruffles my hair. Everything about him repulses me. Literally, everything. I gave myself to Demyan for Calina. Can I do so again?
And when all this is over, will there be any of me left?
Amaranov reaches for my hair, sending an unpleasant shiver down my spine when he grasps it in his hand.
“So pretty and soft,” he says. But he doesn’t get any further. A crash sounds behind the desk and Amaranov starts. Demyan, Maksym, and Glen enter the room, guns drawn.
