I notice she’s shaking. “What are you not telling me?”
She nervously hesitates to answer me. I don’t get herusual adorable shrug while she prepares a doozy of an answer laced with charm and fantasy. Fallon, bracing for reality, is something I’m not entirely prepared for.
Swallowing, she says, “Daddy wants me to marry Kosta.”
My mind blanks out. “The man who raped you?”
“Yes,” she breathes through choking tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
Something ugly and lethal coils in my chest, a calm certainty that there aren’t enough places left for Kosta Orlov to hide from my wrath.
Now it makes even more sense that her mind twisted my words into me being her boyfriend. Survival does that. It builds safer stories when the truth is that she’s being handed back to the scumbag who hurt her.
“And those other boyfriends you brought here?” I ask, keeping my cool. “Were they to convince your father to let you out of the marriage arrangement?”
She goes still, then slowly shakes her head. “I didn’t plan anything like that. I just thought if he saw me with someone else, and that I was okay, even happy, he would change his mind about Kosta.”
I study her face, the honesty there is stunning.
“But Rhys, I didn’t care about them the way I love you,” she whimpers into my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I hug her and don’t hammer home the fact that she probably got those guys killed. That will make her spiral so bad that she might not come back to me as the same wonderful woman. “I’m glad I know the truth. You arenotmarrying Kosta.”
I’ll break that deal all right. With a bat to someone’s skull.
I make a mental note to ask Shane to dig further to find out where Kosta is and have him taken out. Immediately. This is all feeling too close.
“It’s late. We have to go inside.” Holding her middle, she steps gingerly across a path of meticulous stone steps.
By the looks of the house and the grounds, it’s clear Elias Black likes everything around him to be perfect and look flawless.
His one source of imperfection?
Fallon.
She gets to the front step, and one of the two massive double doors opens for her. I move to her side, and with my hand in hers, I let the house swallow us.
Inside, the foyer overwhelms with its explicit wealth and power, and only a dash of good taste. Twenty-foot ceilings and a chandelier dripping with crystals hover over marble floors so polished I can see my fucking reflection.
God, I have to get the look of shock off my face.
The scent of pine and roasted meat, the dinner we’re late for, hangs heavy in the air. A twelve-foot Christmas tree trimmed in gold dominates the entryway and sits next to a dark varnished wood railing that snakes in a curve along a grand staircase.
The braided garland hanging from the entryways smells fresh, and the bows look perfect. It’s holiday joy wrapped in razor wire.
“Fallon,” a man’s smooth voice without an accent drifts into the foyer from the top of the stairs.
I size up the man with broad shoulders, muted iron-gray hair, and a military-sharp suit. He’s got a presence that could shake the pine needles off a fake holiday tree.
Elias fucking Black.
Fallon flinches, then straightens. “Hi, Daddy. I’m sorry we?—”
“You’re late.” He squashes her spirit as he slings his disappointment like a blade looking for a throat.
He reaches the bottom step and puts his arm out for herto hug him. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I’m surprised he’s not holding out his hand for her to kiss a fucking ring.
Then his gaze flicks to me. Icy chills shiver down my spine. His eyes don’t widen. His jaw doesn’t tense. He knows who I am, all right. My name is echoing in whispers throughout this house already.
