Like I was a naughty little girl.
He was going to beat me—again.
Just like he’d beat my sisters—again and again.
The only one of us who was safe was Inessa.
But I had to change that.
I had to.
I felt that click in my mind as though it were a visceral entity. As though I’d switched on a light. My movements weren’t wooden, if anything, I drifted through the next steps like it was a dance.
I jerked my arm high, out of his grasp as I darted backward. Not far, just enough to evade his grip, to pull my wrist free as he struggled with me to gain a hold of the crystal pyramid, but this time, I was stronger.
I had to be.
Mine was a fury born of desperation.
Because, once this was done, I had a safe haven to retreat to.
Brennan O’Donnelly would protect me from the Bratva, from the repercussions of what I was about to do. But more than that, he’d protect Victoria too.
So it made my next step easy.
I brought the ornament down.
Hard.
Let glass collide with bone.
Allowed blood to spurt.
Let his rage-filled roar wash over me.
Allowed Svetlana’s stunned shriek to pierce my ears.
And I did it again.
And again.
And again.
Until my palms weren’t the only part of me that were bloody. Until the enemy inside my gates was gone.
Until the threat to me and my sisters was silenced.
Forever.