But…I didn’t have much choice, either.
The worst part was that I didn’t care—not about where I was going and not about getting better. Not much about anything, really, since I’d come to.
From the moment I first woke up from the coma, something fundamental had changed.
I woke up remembering.
Everything.
All the shit in Siberia that I’d buried in the back of my head so my life could resemble something normal had bubbled right up to the surface like an overflowing sewer.
The rapes.
The abuse.
The hunger.
The pain.
The despair—and the acute, bone-deep notion that humanity had stooped to places so terribly low—meant life was no longer worth living at all. Everything I’d run away from had caught up with me, and now I had nowhere to hide. I was stuck in a bed, forced to remember.
All the moments I wanted to forget.
All the trauma I drowned in parties and fake friends and lavish shopping sprees.
I didn’t want to get better. I wanted to close my eyes and never wake up again.
The other presence flicked the light on, shifting closer.
“Lila,” I groaned, blinking the world into focus. “How long have I been ou?—”
The rest of the sentence perished on the tip of my tongue as soon as I opened my eyes.
Sitting across from me was Achilles Ferrante.
A wrathful beast of massive proportions. Imposing, scary, and dead in the eyes.
Our gazes clashed. My heart rode all the way up to my throat, and any lingering pain or dull ache disappeared from my body. My lungs scorched.
This wasn’t happening.
Can’t. Breathe.
He is here to murder you.
And considering you’re bedridden, this time he is going to succeed.
Dying didn’t scare me anymore. But I wanted to go on my own terms.
Still, I was me. So I decided to die with a smile.
“What, no flowers?” I tried to purr, but it came out all gruffy and wrong. “Oh well. Don’t bother putting any on my grave. My first order of business will be haunting your ass into an early grave.”
“I’m not here to finish the job.” His voice was unbearably soft, and it made me angry because it reached a place inside me he had no right touching.
“You should.” I plastered on my best airy-socialite smile. “Because once I’m back on my feet, I will certainly kill you.”
His brows slammed together, concern and confusion fighting for dominance in his features.
