“I meant before that.”
“Should I?”
He nods. “It was the day that your engagement to Marina was decided.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You were there?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I think I mostly remember the sinking feeling that my life was over.”
“Now, hers is about to be,” Lev says grimly. “Maybe that means you’ll get yours back.”
“I’m counting on it,” I mutter—just as I see movement behind Yaromir and his man.
One shelf of the bookcase swings open. It’s slow and silent, so it doesn’t attract the attention of the oblivious man positioned in front of it. Marina slips into the room stealthily, her blonde hair streaming down her back.
According to Jessa, she dyed it brunette for the purpose of her deception. It seems she’s gone back to her natural color. I despise that. It feels wrong for the two of them to share anything, even just a single feature.
I can see her face clearly. Venom surges through me.
Those vicious eyes are bright with bloodlust. Her smile, beautiful under different lights, is an incredulous sneer here.
Lev seems to be thinking the same thing. “Hasn’t changed a bit, has she?”
She creeps towards the bodyguard. I see the glint of silver just before she strikes. The guard senses something at the last moment, but it’s too late to do anything except turn and see the face of his murderer.
She slices her knife across his throat. He hits the ground, alerting Yaromir to another presence in the room.
Yaromir jumps up to face her. Even in the video, I see the color drain out of him. His hand moves to his weapon, but she stops him by turning her own gun on him.
“That’s enough, cousin,” she says.
Yulian turns up the volume. I still have to strain my ears to hear them.
“Marina,” says Yaromir warily.
“I ask you for a meeting and you deck the halls of my father’s estates with men,” she says, shaking her head in disgust. “Still as scared as ever, I see.”
“I’m not scared,” he protests. But the tremor in his voice betrays him.
“Fucking pathetic,” Yulian growls.
“No?” Marina asks in the footage. “Then why bring out all the guns for a simple meet-up? I’m just one little woman.”
“A woman who just murdered my man in cold blood.”
She raises her eyebrows, looking amused. “Do you expect something different from me?” she asks. “The men in this family have always killed without conscience. Why am I expected to do any differently?”
“How did you get in here?” he croaks.
“I have my ways,” she says. “I grew up in this house, Yaromir. I know all its secrets. And if you so much as think about calling on your men, I will pull this trigger and end you right now. You’re going to die anyway, but if you cooperate, it will be much less painful. Understood?”
He nods. She gives him a sweet smile and walks forward, keeping her gun raised the whole time. I notice the knife she used to kill the guard dangling from the waistband of her pants. Blood drips from the blade. Yaromir seems to be preoccupied with the crimson drops landing on the white carpet under their feet.
“Oops,” Marina says, noticing the same thing. “I’m making a mess. How rude of me.”
“What do you want, Marina?” Yaromir asks.