The fact that Odina never bothered to flinch was as horrific a sign as any as to what she’d probably endured.
“She doesn’t have the fucking scar! Where is my scarred kitten?” he shouted, and the fury in it reminded me of the roar of a lion—a wild animal who had lost his dinner to another predator.
“Mywifeis not your kitten, Dima,” Rafael said carefully, and the fury in his tone was darker. Quieter, and somehow all the more menacing for it. Dima would attack foolishly. He thought himself the baddest in all the lands and saw no consequences for his actions, but Rafael would sweep that out from under him with methodic planning.
And slit his throat before he ever saw it coming.
“She is not your wife,” Dima growled, sinking the tip of the knife into Odina’s cheek. She whimpered in pain, and it was the final straw for me.
“Stop! Please don’t hurt her anymore,” I said, wincing back from the furious glare Rafe leveled at me. On the screen, Dima stilled and drew the knife away from Odina’s face. He closed his eyes slowly, a shudder working its way through his body as he placed the knife on the table beside him. He pushed Odina’s chair to the side, ignoring her and leaning forward on his elbows on the desk as his face filled the screen.
He was attractive, and it seemed horrific that someone capable of such atrocities would look so...normal. A black buttoned-up shirt was collared at his throat, striking against his fair skin. Light brown hair was styled short on top of his head, and a strong jaw curved the bottom of his face. Even with all the normalcy of his features, there was something sooffwithin his stare, something crazed in the way he stared directly into the camera. “Come out and play with me, ??? ?????. Let me look atmy kitten, and I’ll have no need for your replica.”
Rafe shook his head subtly, warning me against giving the man what he wanted, but I couldn’t bear the thought of him hurting Odina if I defied him. For something so simple, taking the two steps until I stood in front of the camera felt harmless.
Like the only choice I could make.
His stare tracked up over my torso, and despite the distance and the knowledge that only the image of him was in the room with us, I shuddered at the feeling of his eyes on me. The day before, I’d wished I’d worn a dress.
Now I wanted nothing more than to cover every inch of my skin.
His gaze landed on my face, caressing up over my lips and to my eyes finally. “Isa,” he murmured. I swallowed back the revulsion in my throat, and let Rafe guide me back to perch on his lap. The claiming of his hands on my body steadied me and pushed me past the panic that threatened to consume me.
I couldn’t shake the knowledge that I’d seen those eyes before. That they’d been the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes and took my first breaths after drowning.
“Hello, Dima,” I said, resting my hand on Rafe’s thigh. I used the feel of his strength beneath me to ground me against the disgust, and to reassure myself that the time would come when I could tell Rafe what I now knew to be the truth.
“You’ve grown to be so beautiful,” he said, his lips twisting into a smile.
“I thought I was too old for you now,” I spat in return, and he raised an eyebrow as a slow laugh came over the speakers.
“I see Rafael has been talking about me,” Dima said, his eyes shifting to the space over my shoulder. Rafe leaned in, touching his lips to my cheek and pointedly baiting the other man.
“I keep no secrets from my wife. Especially not when it comes to a worm like you,” Rafe said, and I could feel the malice in the words even if his tone didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. There was nothing but complete dismissal in the way he spoke of the other man.
“I wonder if that is true of ??? ?????as well,” Dima said, touching a finger to his lips and tapping it there. “Do you have secrets fromEl Diablo, Isa?”
I swallowed, his words all but a confirmation of what I’d slowly begun to realize when I laid eyes on him. “Not intentionally,” I said, feeling Rafe go solid beneath me. I took his hand in mine discreetly, trying to reassure him that I hadn’t known until the moment I saw Dima on that screen.
That even after the years that had been passed, traces of the boy who had saved my life on the banks of the Chicago River still remained.
Rafael didn’t rise to the bait, not bothering to ask the question, but it didn’t seem like Dima needed the verbal words to offer the information he was so desperate to reveal. “Tell me,El Diablo,” he said mockingly. “If it is my breath that fills her lungs, do you truly believe your marriage can ever really claim her? I gave her life.”
Even knowing in my soul that he was that same boy, hearing the confirmation was another thing entirely. The breath he spoke of expelled from my lungs in a sudden burst, my stomach caving in on itself as I felt hollow.
My memories of that day had always been hazy. Chaotic and vague, the details lost to time as I grew older and got some distance from the day I’d nearly died. I’d all but forgotten the boy who had saved me, his face a blur as he gave me mouth to mouth when my mother didn’t know how. And he’d done it all for what?
To purchase my life down the line? To own me and abuse me?
None of it made any sense. He’d been there with the man who’d thrown me in the river in the first place, and for some reason chose to do what he could to ensure I lived. “Why?” I asked, hating the way my voice trembled. “Why go to the trouble?”
“I have my reasons,” he said evasively. “I should have just taken you that day and let you be raised with a nanny here. I thought perhaps you would appreciate having a few more years with your family before you found your true purpose with me.”
“Last I knew, you had a wife of your own, Dima,” Rafael said, reminding me of exactly what that purpose would be. “Perhaps you should spend more time with her by your side.”
“She is an alliance between families and nothing more. You know how it goes.” Dima shrugged. “Men marry the wife for money. They keep the mistress they love. You’re the one who broke those rules.”
“You do not love me,” I said, huffing a laugh as he grabbed Odina’s chair and dragged it back beside him. His jaw hardened, as if the small rebellion of my words threatened to push him over the edge and carve his anger into my sister’s flesh once again.