I am not a good guy.
I am not a forgiving guy.
I am not a sentimental sucker for romantic movies.
I am not someone who enjoys a surprise, especially the kind involving diapers.
But most definitely, I enjoy torturing and killing people who betray me.
Now, I’m sitting across from Sophia as she spills out her deepest secret.
“I was sent to spy on you…by Aleks,” she chokes out, her voice breaking. “He has Nilo and Wren, and I don’t know… Luka, I don’t know if they’re still alive.”
My world shifts.
The room spins, and I feel like the floor is falling out from under me. My vision narrows, focusing only on her.
“I-I am sorry,” she sobs, clutching her belly as if to protect the secret inside.
Sorry.
I’ve heard that word many times. From the spineless fuckers who betrayed the Ivankov Bratva, who caused the death of my father, who stole my freedom.
Sorry.
It doesn’t mean anything.
I breathe in, then breathe out. Slowly. My mind races. I’m processing. Contemplating. Should I kill her? She betrayed me, and in my world, that’s a death sentence.
Sorry.
It doesn’t change the fact she lied to me.
Sorry.
It doesn’t bring back the trust I thought we had.
I’m quiet at first, the words not processing. Then, with a jolt, I stand up, knocking the chair over. I start to pace, then stop and sit down again, only to leap back up. The truth, the damn truth, is like a punch to the gut. Sophia watches me, tears in her eyes, her body trembling in fear.
“Luka, please,” she whispers. “I had no choice. He threatened to kill them.”
“Choice?” I snap, my voice dripping with venom. “You chose to lie. You chose to betray me.”
“I had to,” she cries, desperation in her voice. “I had to protect them. I had to do what he wanted. Or he’d kill Nilo and Wren. Please, you have to understand.”
Understand?
The warning Dimitri gave me echoes in my mind, haunting me. He knew. He saw this coming. And now it’s here, crashing down on me.
Fuck. No one betrays Luka Ivankov.
I look at Sophia, really look at her.
The fear in her eyes, the despair. She’s not lying now.
This is the truth, and it’s ugly and painful. But it’s real.
Slowly, I walk over to her, my heart pounding in my chest. I sit beside her, my hand reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinches, but I don’t pull away.
