Because you wish he’d fought harder for you.
I splash water on my face again, colder this time. My makeup must be all but gone, but right now, I don’t give a shit if Brad’s perfect doll won’t look quite so perfect today.
Without thinking, I put a hand to my belly, soothing the growing thing inside me. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “We’ll be okay. We always are.”
Only, this time, I’m not so sure I believe it.
3
YULIAN
The second I step out onto the west terrace, I put my fist through the wall.
Plaster cracks in my wake. It comes crumbling down like a cheap house of cards, drywall where cement should be. I squint at the gaping maw of debris nibbling around my hand, frustrated with the lack of the physical pain I’d come seeking.
Luxury complex, my ass.The laziest of the Three Little Piggies would’ve put up a stronger structure than this piece of fucking shit.
Behind me, someone whistles. “What’d that poor wall do to you?”
“Shove it, Nikita.” I draw my fist back and shake off the dust. “I’m not in the mood for games.”
“Cool, ‘cause I left my Switch in your car.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I. Tell Maks he’s dead if he filches it. It’s a special edition.”
I tune out Nikita’s nonsense and walk to the railing.
There are people downstairs, lots of them. It’s where the party’s taking place—the upper floors are closed to guests. But I’m not just any guest, and after that conversation, I needed somewhere I could breathe. Somewhere I couldthink.
“Spit it out, cowboy.” Nikita slides over to my side, her bony elbows resting on the fake Carrara balustrade. “It’s no good keeping stuff like this inside. Wounds need air, too.”
“Ineeded air. Instead, I got you sticking your nose into my business.”
“Isn’t that a little sister’s job description?”
“You’re not my sister.”
“And you’re much hairier than mine. But since we’re both one short, we’ll have to make do.”
Her bullshit shouldn’t work. It’s a cheap tactic, a low blow aimed right at a spot where I’ve never stopped bleeding. Nikita would know—she’s got the same gaping hole where a heart should be.
We both lost something that day.
The memory of Mia’s words digs into my skull, sharp as a knife.
Family. That’s why I’m staying.
Not that you’d know whatthatmeans.
I bared my soul to her. Told her things I’d never told anyone. Then, the first chance she got, she turned them all against me.
So why can’t I fucking let her go?
And why the hell can’t I stop thinking about those bruises on her wrist?
“She was hurt,” I end up growling, fingers curled tight around the balustrade. “Thatmudakis beating her again. And she still chose him.”
