“She didn’t. I called her this morning.”
The line of Win’s jaw is granite-hard. Is he upset I called my sister? Is he worried the call was traced and that’s how my father found him? Maybe I should have asked some of those questions after all.
“She told you then?” Triston asks, his voice dropping.
“She did,” I answer, looking away. I’ve hardly had time to process the news.
“What did she tell you?” Win asks, the grit in his voice making me turn back to him.
Triston clears his throat. “You’re en route to Vegas?”
“Yes.” Win’s lips barely move.
“I’ll have a full security team waiting at the airport. They’ll escort you to the apartment building where we are all bunkering. I think it best you stay here.”
“Agreed.”
Win hangs up the phone, his face still set in hard angry lines. “What did Sasha tell you?”
The tension that vibrates off him is enough that I don’t want to speak from his lap. I’m brave, not stupid. I climb off and this time he lets me.
“What?” he asks again.
I turn to him, my mouth pressing in a line. “The last time we were on this plane, we made an agreement. A question for a question.”
“We did.”
“I think it best we do the same now.”
“Fine.”
I’m not sure I want to repeat the words Sasha said, and I have no idea why Win seems so angry. “What’s made you so upset?”
I see the muscles in his cheeks flex. “Your father gave the order to have Rebecca killed, but…”
My stomach swoops and drops. Because I think I know what he’s going to say next.
“Sver is the man who pulled the trigger.”
I close my eyes, the force of his words hitting me square in the chest. But I’ve never been one to avoid an uncomfortable situation, so I just say what needs to be said. “Sasha told me that Sver is our real father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Win
Of all thethings she might have said… “He’s what?”
“My father,” she shrugs. “How sad is it that the hitman father is a huge improvement over the Bratva kingpin?”
“I watched him shoot my fiancée.”
She cringes. “I have to tell you something else.”
“What?” I grate out harshly. With Ivan, we were united. She hated him, I hated him, we both wanted him dead.
But it’s different with Sver. The idea she might have a different father, a real father. My hand clenches.
I have every intention of killing Sver, with my bare hands if necessary.
