her, she still went in to bat for her.
“I’m telling you everything I know, Dimitri,” Alice swears, her tone honest.
The truth in her eyes does little to calm me down. “You should have told me from the start. You should have warned me.”
“Warned you about what?” she asks on a sob. “That your enemies were going to take Roxanne as planned by you? That she would be thrust into a world you should have done everything in your power to keep her away from? What was I supposed to tell you?”
I hold her under the water again, the truth of her statement too much for me to bear. Not only was this the outcome we were reaching for, I’ve known for years my enemies have always been one step ahead of me, so why did I expect today to be any different?
As Alice’s crying comment rings in my ears on repeat, her thrashes become stiller and stiller. She’s seconds from death, her fight honorable considering the circumstances. She gave all for her daughter, only to lose in front of her.
My grip on Alice’s throat slackens when the frantic screams of a child in despair fills my ears. Lucy’s bangs broke through the glass. She is cut up and bleeding, but her thoughts remain with her mother. “Stop, Uncle Dimitri, please stop.”
Alice and I aren’t related. I earned the privilege of being called Lucy’s uncle when I saved her life. Now I’m taking away the only person she’s ever cared about.
When Lucy’s cries reach an area of my body I’m certain stopped functioning years ago, I fully uncinch my grip on Alice’s throat. My unusual offer of mercy comes too late. Alice is floating in the pool. Her eyes are wide and unblinking. Her chest is still.
I killed her for doing exactly what I would have done in her situation.
I murdered her for putting her daughter first.
That makes me a fucking monster—just like my father.
3
Roxanne
As the haze making my vision murky clears, I attempt to take in the area surrounding me. I’m lying on my side, a scratchy blanket the only thing responsible for my modesty. My throat burns with every swallow I take, and my head is thumping.
I don’t know where I am, but I wish I could be here without being naked. This is as awkward as it gets for me. I’m not one of those women who are comfortable in their own skin. I’d rather be found in a hessian bag than have Dimitri’s crew walk in on me stark naked when they track my location.
When I roll onto my side, keen to drink in something more than the rippled steel of an outdated van, pain shreds through my stomach. I don’t know much about pregnancies, but I’m reasonably sure I shouldn’t be cramping like this. I feel like the goon who grabbed me from behind punched me in the stomach before doing so.
If that is the case, what’s their objective for taking me?
Aren’t I more valuable if I’m carrying Dimitri’s child?
Pregnant. Me. I still can’t believe it. We were laid-back on protection, but I still would have thought it would take more than one time to get me up the duff. I guess my life could never be accused of being easy.
The roll of my eyes stops halfway when the groan I couldn’t hold back announces to my captives that I’m awake. I don’t know whether to laugh or glower when the knowledge has several guns aimed at the crinkle between my sweat-beaded brows. I’m pleased they see me as a threat, but I’d rather it occur without additional harm. Being chloroformed was worse than anticipated, so I’m happy to skip extra theatrics.
“Show me those hands, girlie,” croons the goon at the front.
His shoulders are as wide as Clover’s, his eyes almost as deadly, his voice is just missing an Arabian accent. That means nothing, though, because I swear the first voice I heard upon awakening was twanged with an Italian accent. It wasn’t laced with maturity, so I don’t believe it belongs to Dimitri’s father, but it did have a familiarity about it.
“Don’t make me ask you again.” The stranger tosses his half-smoked cigarette on the drought-affected ground, stomps it out with his boot, then moves close enough to me the bright rays of the sun stop sheltering his face. He’s handsome if mass murderers are your kink. “Your plaything the past nine weeks isn’t the only man around here with no patience.”
After absorbing the little