But Electra just continues to force a smile through her tears. That’s when I know something is really wrong.
“Where are we?” I force myself to sit up through the pain.
I look around, and while I don’t recognize the place, a chill goes up my spine.
“We’re at Sean’s penthouse,” she tells me.
“Sean’s? Why the hell would you call him? You should have called an ambulance!”
“I didn’t call him.”
Then a man appears behind her. A man in a black hoodie. He lowers the hood and looks at me. “Hello, Amara.”
I know the voice. I know the face.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“You heard my girlfriend,” he says. “This is my house.”
“I thought you said his name was Sean,” I say as I look between them.
Electra frowns. “It is.”
I look at him. He smiles, a snaky smile I’ve never liked.
“No,” I snarl. “His name isn’t Sean.”
The grin crawls even further up his face.
“What do you mean?” Electra shoots me a puzzled look. “Wait. You two know each other?”
He smirks down at me. “You want to tell her the story or should I?”
“Go for it,” I say with my chin high. “That way, if you tell any more lies, I can correct them as you go.”
He chuckles at that before looking down at Electra.
“My name is not Sean. Not even close.” He flashes us a smirk, all teeth. “It’s Tristan. Tristan Chadovich.”
After that, Electra sits in silence as he tells her all about the Chadovichs and the Rozanovs. About how his parents are dead and Dmitry adopted him as his own, not because he wanted a son but because he needed a futurepakhan.After that, he explains what that is and how Ransome is thepakhanfor his rivaling family.
He tells her the whole story. From the generational feuds to the truce and everything in between. Once in a while, Electra looks at me as if to question if any of it is true.
My silence answers that question.
“You never cared about me,” Electra says after a hard moment.
Tristan just laughs. “Bitch, I don’t care about my own flesh and blood. You think I give a fuck about you? You were just an easy in to get what I want.”
“So, wait…” she says. “What does Amara have to do with it?”
“Because my cousin is married to Rozanov,” he answers.
“And why does that matter?” she asks. “You said yourself you don’t give a shit about the truce. That you just want to be the onlypakhanin power.”
“That gets a little tricky. You see, even if I do get rid of Ransome, your friend here is carrying the Rozanov heir. And the last thing I need is another Rozanov in my way.”
“You’re not touching my baby,” I grit out.
