That’s all he wants. My father’s money.
And all my father wants is me out of his hair for good. Trapped in an unbreakable vow. Unbreakable because I would never be allowed to divorce Kosta.
My throat closes. My heart slams against my ribs.
With just a glance, I see the same cold eyes that once skimmed down my body like I was a lowly pawn to be captured. He greets my father in a pleasant tone that makes my skin crawl. It’s the same one he used when he promised to be gentle with me. Then he brutally raped me.
“Merry Christmas, Fallon,” my father says, his tone rich with delight. “I cashed in a lot of favors to bring your fiancé home as a present for you this year.”
Rhys’s gaze flicks from me to Kosta, a blade unsheathing in his glare.
“When did you get out of jail?” I stand with my arms crossed, trying to stop my body from trembling.
“This morning, my love.” He grins. “Didn’t you get my letters?”
Rhys looks ready to detonate.
“I don’t recall.” I take a deep breath and plant my feet. “And I also don’t care what kind of deal you and my father made years ago. I’mnotmarrying you.” My voicecracks, but I motion to Rhys on the sofa. “Thisis my boyfriend. He loves me.”
My father’s smile never falters, but there’s no warmth when he says, “No, dear Fallon. He isn’t your boyfriend. He’s pretending. He told me so himself.”
My lungs collapse, and I can’t breathe. “Rhys?”
My father grips my shoulder, steadying and trapping me. “Rhys doesn’t love you.”
“Yes, he does,” I say with a wild growl. “Tell him, Rhys. Tell him and Kosta that you love me.”
“Tell her the truth,” my father says with a patronizing tone.
“He’s right. I don’t love you, Fallon.” Rhys stands up. “This was just a game to keep you quiet. I told you that over and over. You selectively listen.”
No. No. No.
I bolt from the living room. My feet barely feel the carpeted stairs. My pulse screams in my ears as I fly down the long hallway to my bedroom. I slam the door behind me, twisting the lock, my lungs burning. I reach for it to twist it two more times, when the door pushes open in between my obsession.
Kosta stands in the doorway. No warm smile. No more charm. Just the sharp, cold mask of ruthless power. “You haven’t been taking your meds, have you?” he asks, voice rough and accusing.
“No,” I whisper with a cranky smile.
“I was told you were,” he says, circling me. “That’s the reason for this betrayal with yet another man?”
“I don’t need those pills.” I need Rhys!
I understand he’s alone here. This is my fault. I put him in danger. I played this all wrong, and Rhys will get hurt if he tries to take me home.
“Have you slept with him?” Kosta asks, hovering over me.
The question carves through me, and I lift my chin. “Yes. And I loved it.”
“Slut!” Kosta backhands me across my face so hard the sound echoes off the walls.
The sting blooms hot, tears burning my eyes as I stagger to the floor. The door clicks again, and my father strolls in. Surely he’ll murder Kosta for hitting me.
He doesn’t evenlookat me. Doesn’t offer me a hand to get off the floor or grab a tissue to stop my lip from bleeding. He just paces the length of the room with his hands tucked behind his back.
Finally, he glances down and stares at me like I’m the biggest disappointment on the planet.
Kosta justifies hitting me. “She’s been sleeping with that Quinlan assassin.”
