The Devil's CrownPart Two - Monica James Page 0,61
inside men.
“Oh, bullshit!” I argue, shaking my head. “Why not win and trust me?”
“Because I didn’t know if you were on my side!” he counters quickly.
And there it is, the truth, the truth I didn’t need to hear because I already knew Alek didn’t believe in us, in me. It seems I’m a convincing actress after all. But honestly, it didn’t take much persuading.
“You said—”
I promptly stop him. “I said a lot of things. We both did.”
“Why did you stay with him?” Alek asks, baffled. “I don’t understand. You can’t…forgive me? Is that why?”
My insides twist, and the small amount of food and water I just consumed threatens to come back up. “It doesn’t matter now,” I reply because the reason is now void. All of this was for nothing.
“Like hell it doesn’t!”
Alek advances, and suddenly, I’m overwhelmed with images of Frank hurting me. On instinct, I cover my face and curl into my chest, preparing myself to be hit. But it never comes.
“I would never raise my hand to you, красавица.” His sincerity is reflected in his tone, but my good sense yells at me not to be naïve because the harm he’s caused to my heart is so much worse.
These external wounds will heal, but the ones inflicted internally will be open forever.
Feeling tears I don’t want to cry well to the surface, I quickly turn around and head for the bedroom. There is so much more to discuss, but for now, I know what I need. Alek once again put his faith in others, seeing an ally in everyone but me.
I risked everything for him. What an idiot I am.
Alek
“SANTO SEEMED TO buy it, but it won’t be long until he finds out the truth,” Pavel says into the satellite phone as I focus ahead. It’s a new moon, so we’re sailing in almost darkness.
As expected, my house was one of the first Santo and his sons visited, demanding answers. Pavel stuck to the story that I fled to Ukraine on a tip that my mother had been spotted there. But that will only be plausible for so long.
The Macrillos are out for revenge.
Running a hand down my exhausted face, I decide to moor the yacht for the night and attempt to get some sleep once I get off the phone. We’re in the middle of nowhere, and according to the nautical charts, no boats usually pass through here.
“Any thoughts on what you’re going to do?”
I wish I had the answers, but I don’t.
Ella needs to be far, far away from harm’s way before I can strike. Until then, she’s at risk of being found. Only when she’s safe will I go back to Russia and end the Macrillo bloodline. But until then, we’re fugitives.
“All I can think about right now is getting Ella to safety,” I share with Pavel. “I can’t do anything until I know no one can hurt her. Only when she’s safe will I come back and finish this once and for all.”
“And until then? What happens to business?”
This should concern me, but it doesn’t. Worrying about what happens to my empire is so low on my list of priorities that I fail to remember why it mattered at all.
“We stick to the original plan,” I reply because to ensure Ella’s safety, I need every single ally in my corner. “They know I trust you; therefore, they’ll do the same. Call if there are any problems, and I will set them straight.”
That won’t be necessary, however.
Underdogs don’t argue; that’s why they’re the underdogs. Pavel is offering them the opportunity to change their status, so there is no way they’ll disagree.
“Okay. If you think this is best.”
I don’t know that. I don’t know anything, but I don’t stand a chance fighting against the Macrillos if I’m worrying about Ella. She needs to be hidden where no one can find her. I just need to find where that place is.
“Call if anything changes,” I say. “Is everyone okay?”
“Yes, for now.” And with that ominous response, Pavel hangs up.
He isn’t being melodramatic because he’s right. For now, our excuses will appease the Macrillos. But when they exhaust every avenue, they’ll circle back to the most likely scenario and press harder until someone cracks.
Gripping the wheel, I refuse to ponder on that thought for too long. I will have thought of a plan before that happens. I just hope that epiphany hits me soon.
The still waters allow the perfect conditions to moor for the night, not that