“We may not have told you this, but our feelings for you are now genuine.”
My eyes well with tears as I gaze into his brown eyes—those brown eyes I have fallen for time and time again, now tarnished.
“Charley, we need to tell you everything, but you must to listen. Shit ain't going to be easy to hear, but we need to fucking tell you.”
Reign’s serious voice tells me this is way beyond what I ever thought, but I don’t understand. I’m so confused.
“You fucking stabbed me, Reign? It was you who came in that haunted house and stabbed me?”
He gives me a small head shake before speaking gently to calm me down.
“No, I didn’t; that wasn’t me. I would never do that to you, Char.”
“But you were outside; you never came in; how can I trust your word on that?”
“You fucking can’t, but maybe once you hear everything we have to say, you can make up your own mind.”
I stay silent, staring between them both with the scissors still pointed forward and I observe as they glance at one another before Chaos nods to Reign and my eyes dart to Reign as he takes a small step forward.
“You’re not who you think you are, Charley.”
My brows pinch before he continues.
“You’re Swan Morozov and you’re the rightful heir as Queen of the Bratva here in New York.”
My face screws up and I pull my head back in confusion.
“What?”
Reign looks at Chaos, and Chaos continues.
“Your family were the top dogs here in New York before they were killed; your father, your mother, and your sister, who wastwo years older than you. You obviously survived the hit, but no one knew you were alive for twelve years until you came here to New York when you were sixteen and you moved in with Olga Popov, a close, silent friend of your mothers.”
My eyes nearly bulge out of my head as soon as he says my Nana’s full name before they flash to Reign when he speaks.
“She was teaching you Russian for a reason, Charley and you picked up on it so well because you are Russian. You’re the purest Bratva blood in this fucking city.”
My heart pounds in my chest and I start looking around, frantically, feeling as though the walls are closing in around me while I try to take everything in, but my mind is a shamble.
“Your birthmark.”
I lift my blurry eyes to Chaos as he gestures to my chest.
“It’s not a birthmark, Char; it’s a gunshot wound that you suffered when you were four years old.”
I bring my palm to my mouth, feeling as if I might hurl since my head is spinning, and when I close my eyes, tears stream down my cheeks and hand. Once they’ve given me a moment, my red eyes flash to theirs and I remove my hand, now wanting to know their motive.
“So, why the fuck did you both stalk me?”
Chaos lowers his head, so Reign inhales deeply before responding first.
“Revenge.”
My eyes burn into his as he pushes his hands into his grey sweatpants’ pockets.
“Well, not ours really, but our fathers. Not only to get back at your family in the grave but also to spite another rival Russian Mafia family here in New York.”
My brows pinch and I shake my head, completely and utterly confused.
