“I’ve always had one. You were just too stupid to notice.”
“No,” he says. “You were just easier to break then.”
I close my eyes for one second. Breathe in. Out.
When I speak again, my voice is ice. “Tell us where you are.”
“What?”
“You heard me. If you’re so sure of yourself, stop calling and come out. Maksim is going to kill you anyway. You can die fast, or you can die slow.”
For the first time, something in his voice sharpens.
“You think I’m hiding?”
“I know you are.”
“No, Tavsan.” His tone lowers, turns almost thoughtful. “I’mbuilding.”
A prickle runs down the back of my neck.
“When I come for him,” he says, “it won’t matter how tightly he keeps you. No one will protect you then.”
It sounds like a bluff.
It probably is a bluff.
But probably is not the same thing as definitely. So I make myself laugh. Cold. Disbelieving. Mean.
“You should work on that before making threats. I almost believed you for a second.”
He doesn’t answer right away.
And suddenly I know that’s the point. Not to convince me fully. Just to leave the door cracked.
I refuse to give him that satisfaction.
“Your hatred is making you weaker, brother,” I spit coldly. “Still so angry?Why?Because Baba killed your mother in retaliation?”
I smile, vicious and without humor. “Well, retaliation is coming. And when Maksim guts you, I’ll be there to watch the life drain from your eyes.”
Then I hang up before he can answer, pulse hammering, fury burning hotter than fear.
Chapter 52
Ayla
My hand is still shaking when I drop the phone onto the bed.
The silence after the call is obscene.
Too loud. Too empty. Too full of his voice.
I sit there for one second too long, sheet tangled around my waist, lungs pulling air that doesn’t feel like enough. Then I force myself up. Off the bed. Onto my feet.
Move.
That’s the only thing that’s ever helped when panic starts trying to build a room inside my ribcage.
