Her lips press together, really listening to me now.
“My sister, Lily. She’s with your family, and she has been for quite some time.”
At that, Elena’s eyes widen as the realization seems to set in. The recognition hits her immediately, which surprises me. That alone has to mean she isn’t completely in the dark.
“Lily? As in…”
“Lily Michaels,” I say, feeling that sorrow and guilt creep back in again.
“Lily’s your sister?” She asks in disbelief, obviously more than aware of who she is. “You’re the brother who died…” she trails off, connecting the dots in her mind before letting go of a breath. “God, it all makes sense now.”
“So you do know her,” I murmur, vaguely hopeful. If they brought her around Elena before, then there’s a chance she hasn’t been in absolute hell this whole time.
Despite her lingering shock, Elena nods. “I know her pretty well, actually. She’s safe, if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Hearing it from her does settle something in me, but I still can’t let go of the lingering protectiveness in me. The need to see her.
“You’ve been doing this for her?” She asks, voice quieter for a moment.
I nod. “After I was framed, I knew they’d come for Lily next, so I had to fake my death and go into hiding. Ever since then, I’ve been working to get her back. I just wanted to protect her, but then your family…”
The implication lingers between us, then the thoughts seem to churn within her mind as she leans back against the tub again. The water gently laps at her collarbones, distracting me for half a beat before I return my eyes to hers.
She gives a quiet huff, obviously piecing something together. “You’re hoping for a trade.”
The accusation, despite being mostly true, hits harder than it should, and I hesitate. While yes, that is the outcome I’ve been banking on, it doesn’t bring me any kind of satisfaction. In fact, the thought pisses me off.
Her gaze narrows just enough to be noticeable. “You are.”
With a breath, I nod, irritated that I have to admit it. Although the guilt of knowing that’s how I’ve been forced to spin it burns more. “That was the plan.”
Elena studies me for a long moment, letting an expression I can’t quite read cross her face. Then, she sighs and absently rubs at the bridge of her nose. “Lily chose to be there, you know.”
I stiffen at that, brows furrowing. “What do you mean?”
“She’s with my brother, Mikhail,” she says, softer than I anticipate. “And not because she’s being forced or threatened. She wants to be with him.”
That feels more like a knife between the ribs than anything else, the words sinking in like stones. I blink back at her. “What? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“It does,” she insists, not unkindly as she takes in my features. “They’re married, Wyatt.”
It’s another blow, almost making me stagger. “…Married?”
She nods.
Scrubbing a hand down my face, the truth of it hits me so hard that nothing else moves through my head but that for a long moment. The image of her willingly marrying a Lukov. It’s ironic, really.
I’m no better.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, moving my hand with a heavy breath as I meet her gaze again. “She really disappeared on me…”
“You were dead,” Elena says quietly, eyes soft despite her usual assertiveness. “She grieved you for a long time. She finally started living again because she chose to. Because she chose Mikhail.”
Mikhail.
While I don’t know the fine details of the Lukov family dynamics, Mikhail’s face is one that tends to be more public when Roman doesn’t feel like showing his. The second-in-command, and all that.
I should’ve known. She’s been with them long enough, of course, something like this would happen.
