gaze a beat, ensuring she got his meaning, and Charley sucked in a breath.
He was talking about the Long Island pizza place.
Where you off to, little girl?
A chill gripped her spine, but she forced herself to remain still. Stoic.
“But when they made delivery,” Rogozin continued, “I discovered all items were forgeries. As you can imagine, I became upset.”
So upset you sent your goons after a helpless kid?
“After that…” He shook his head, then took a deep drink of vodka, his eyes filling with something that looked a hell of a lot like shame. “Understand something, Ms. D’Amico. I did not send those men after you.”
His eyes grew dark and imploring, boring right through to her very soul. The way he looked at her… It was as if he could read her thoughts. As if he needed her to believe him.
Strangely enough, she did.
“I did not know you were in car,” he said. “Did not know you even existed. The men—two humans working for me—they acted of their own accord, thinking I would be pleased. I was not. But by the time I realized what happened, your father was…” He made a shooting gesture with his hand, and Charley flinched, remembering the popping sound as her father took down her attackers. “I respected him for protecting his daughter, but I could not let him go unpunished. I would’ve looked weak at a time when my organization did not have power it has today.”
Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down, along with a mouthful of curses. She knew all too well how power plays worked. Knew all too well that women and girls would always be used as pawns and prey, so long as the system was built to keep rewarding the predators.
“I made your father offer,” Rogozin said. “That is when he learned of supernatural. I gave him three choices—I could kill all three of you, I could turn you into vessels, or I could spare your lives and souls, if he agreed to make an offering to—”
“Azerius,” Charley gasped, the realization slamming into her with a clarity so sharp and bright, it made the stars dance before her eyes. “My father sold my soul to a demon lord?”
Rogozin raised an eyebrow—the only sign he was at all surprised that she knew.
From the moment Dorian had told her about the demon mark, Charley was certain it was her uncle’s doing.
But her father?
Charley reached for her water glass, unsure whether she wanted to laugh, cry, or simply disappear.
“You were child,” he said. “Your guardian had right to make deal for you. He thought it was best choice of three bad choices. He was honorable man, as I said. He made deal, but only because he believed he could find escape hatch. He had many years to make plan. Then one day, your uncle tells me Paul is going to do one last job, take money, flee country with you, and hire witch to break demon bind.”
Tears blurred Charley’s eyes as she recalled her uncle’s words in the limo.
Do you know the most heartbreaking thing about the One Night Stand job? It was supposed to be his last job… He wanted you to have a normal life… He was planning to take his share and get you out of the country… Start over somewhere new…
“I was angry when I found out,” Rogozin said. “Not because he could break the bind—that is impossible. Only because it was betrayal of his promise. But before I could speak to your father about this, your uncle decided to take matters into his own hands. He wanted greater power, greater respect in my organization. Rather than earning it honest way, he went over my head. He called upon Lord Azerius and made deal to become demon host.”
“How?” she whispered, though the end of this brutal tale was already coalescing in her mind, all the answers she’d been seeking for the last five years finally colliding in an epic, terrible conclusion.
“Is better if I show you this part.” Rogozin gestured to the barbed-wire demon, who handed over a tablet. After queuing up a video, Rogozin passed it to Charley. “It will be difficult to see, but truth is better, no matter how painful.”
The timestamp was dated the day before the One Night Stand job.
The day before her father’s murder.
With a trembling finger, Charley hit play, holding her breath as the images and sounds came to life on the screen.
It looked like some sort of surveillance video—black-and-white,