“He just wanted me to prove that I loved him,” she whispers, her voice dropping instantly. “And I failed. I—”
“Ana—” I run a hand through my hair, wondering how to untangle all the convoluted threads of this conversation and everything that’s happened. “It wasn’t just you. I had to—”
Her head snaps towards me, her eyes narrowing. “Had to what?”
I let out a long breath, looking at her miserably. There’s so much for us both to unpack, and I don’t want to do it here and now, but it’s clear that the conversation has to be had. I have no idea how we will go forward from this, what will happen next, but I do know one thing.
If there’s any chance of anything between Ana and me, there will have to be complete honesty between us.
“Yvette,” I say simply, and I see her jaw tighten, anger mixing with the sadness in her eyes. “She said something to me at the start of it.”
“What?” Ana asks between gritted teeth, and I can see at that moment how much she hates that woman. I have no idea what Yvette did to her or who Yvette was to Alexandre to make Ana hate her so much, but it’s clear.
“She told me that Alexandre might have her kill you if you came while I fucked you,” I say bluntly, the words spilling out quickly. I want to get them out, off my tongue, to stop having to talk about this. “But she said if you didn’t,shewould kill you and make it look like an accident. She—” I hesitate. “I think she wanted Alexandre to be angry with you. I think she was hoping you would die either way, though obviously, I don’t know why.”
“She wanted Alexandre,” Ana says softly, sniffling back some of her tears and reaching for a tissue from the side of the bed. “And he didn’t think of her like that. He just thought of her as a friend—he didn’t think ofanywoman like that. Except for me.”
Except for me.I had suspected that Alexandre had slept with Ana—it had been blatantly obvious that he’d had strong, if deranged feelings for her, but I hadn’t realized how much it would hurt to hear it all but confirmed. The thought of him touching her, kissing her, being inside of her, of herenjoyingit, makes me feel half-insane too.
It makes me want to go back to Paris and finish the job, to kill him for certain this time.
“I didn’t know what choice I had,” I say quietly. “I couldn’t get you away from her, not without her killing you. I thought Alexandre might, in his insane way, care enough for you that he would forgive you feeling pleasure with me, or crumble, the way he did. But I absolutely, to my core, believed that she would coolly pull that trigger if I finished without you orgasming. I had to try to make you, Ana. Ihadto.”
I clench my jaw, feeling the waves of guilt so deeply that it threatens to overtake me. I’ve tried my best, all my life, to be a good man. A good son to a father who didn’t want me, a good brother to one who left me, a good leader to those who wanted nothing more than to unseat me and put their own heir in my place. I’ve never in my life felt anything but absolute horror at the idea of forcing or hurting a woman. Yet, in the space of weeks, I’ve made a vow that will emotionally hurt one woman when I inevitably break it and physically hurt another who I felt I’d do anything to protect.
Ana is broken, but at this moment, I feel broken too. And I don’t know if two broken people can heal each other or if we’ll simply cut each other to pieces on the jagged edges of ourselves until we bleed out.
“For someone who wanted to save me, you did a piss-poor job of it,” she whispers, and I feel the pain of those words down to my core.
“I’m so sorry, Ana,” I murmur. “You’re right. I was reckless and prideful, and what happened is my fault. I want to make it up to you. But first, I need to get you home.”
Ana bites her lower lip, wiping at her face with the tissue as she looks past me towards the window. “Where are we?” she asks finally. “Are we still in Paris?”
I hear the faint hope in her voice, and it cuts at me too, the thought that she would run back to him if she thought she could. “No.” I shake my head, swallowing back the words I really want to say. “We’re in a hotel in London. We’re safe—you’resafe—and we’ll be going back tomorrow.”
“What about the others?” Ana looks away, wrapping her arms around herself and squeezing tightly. “When Alexandre—bought me, Sofia and Caterina and the others were still at the party. I didn’t know what happened to them, I haven’t had any idea, but I hoped—”
Her voice trails off, full of tears again, and my heart aches for her. She’s spent weeks with Alexandre with no idea if her best friend and the others with her were alive or dead or sold or free, and I can’t imagine what that must have felt like, what she’s been through.
You can’t imagineanyof what she’s been through,I remind myself firmly. Whatever happens, however Ana behaves in the future, whatever she says to me or does, I have to remember all that she’s endured and be patient with her.
If I even get to spend much more time with her. She very well might ask me to take her back to New York and never speak to her again. I wouldn’t blame her if she did.
“They’re safe,” I tell her quickly before she has a chance to start to cry again. “Sofia, Caterina, Sasha, and the two children. They’re all safe and back home, though not without some emotional scars. Sofia’s pregnancy is going along well, the baby was fine, and the two little girls are stronger than anyone would have thought, though they have some nightmares. Viktor and Caterina are in love,” I say with a short laugh, “as if anyone would have seen that coming, and she’s pregnant. Sasha is living with them as a nanny to the girls.” I clear my throat, seeing the faint smile spread across Ana’s face. “Viktor and Caterina had a second wedding just before I left to come and find you.”
“They’re all safe?” The look on Ana’s face eases some of the tightness on my chest. Her cheeks are flushed with momentary happiness, relief written across every single one of her features. “Really? All of them?”
“I was there when Viktor rescued them,” I confirm. “Myself, Viktor, Levin, and Max made it in time to rescue all of them. Everyone except you,” I say quietly. “Which is why I came to find you, Ana. I couldn’t leave you behind. I—” I want to tell her the lengths I went to in order to find her, how many countries I went to, how many people I spoke to, about Andrei and Kaito, and everything else. Though I don’t want her to think I’m bragging, trying to make her think better of me than she does. No matter what I did to find her, what happened once I did is the freshest in both of our minds, and I know I have to give that time to heal—if it can at all—before I tell her the rest.
“I promise you, Ana,” I tell her firmly. “They’re all safe and as happy as they can possibly be after going through something like that. And Alexei is dead. I was there for that, as well. I saw him die.”
“What happened to him?” she whispers. “Alexandre asked me if I wanted to know, but I wasn’t sure—not then. Now—I think I do.”
“I don’t think you want all the gory details,” I say carefully. “But he died slowly, Ana, and in pieces. I think that’s enough to paint a picture for you.”
She goes very quiet for a moment, her face paling as the blanket drops to her hips, her fingers twisting in it. She’s entirely covered, the wrap neckline of the lavender dress concealing everything, but I can’t help but think how beautiful she is, just looking at her.
“Alexandre said something similar,” she whispers, still pulling at the blanket between her fingers. After a long moment, she looks up, her soft blue eyes meeting mine. “Did you help?”