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“We should go,” I say a moment later.
When I turn my back, she says coldly, “He bullied me. He hit me sometimes, but rarely. When I was younger, he’d ground me by locking me in an underground room. Don’t turn around, please.”
There’s desperation in her voice as she begs me not to look at her. I keep my gaze fixed ahead, and she continues, “He’s just not a good man, but what can you expect from a life like this?”
“We’re better, Mila,” I tell her.
“Definebetter,” she says.
“We’re not saints, but we’re not devils either.”
When she joins me at the mouth of the cave, taking my hand, she looks up and says, “Dad hurt me, but I don’t want to talk about it. Not until I know he can’t hurt Drake or me again.”
“Does he do the same to your brother?” I ask.
“He’s never hit Drake, but he punishes him for no reason and calls him names. Dad’s pretty sexist. I think the only reason fists haven’t started flying is because he’s a boy.”
I clench my jaw, trying not to visualize the moment sweaty Nikolai Petrov laid his hands on Mila. I want to tear him to pieces, break his bones, shatter him on a fundamental level. I want to ruin the prick, but if I kill him before the time is
right …
“What are you thinking?” she asks.
“The truth?”
“Always.”
“About killing your father.”
She doesn’t smile. She doesn’t frown. She doesn’t look scared or excited. She just tilts her head slightly as if she can’t even process the idea, but she will.
Nobody hurts my Mila and gets away with it.
CHAPTER 15
MILA
When we return, Mikhail says he and Dimitri must go into the city. There’s something they need to take care of. There’s a moment after he leaves when I’m just waiting for every guard in this place to turn against me, charge into my bedroom, and tell me Dad’s always going to find a way.
Yet nothing happens. I lie in bed, sunlight filtering through the thin curtains, staring at the ceiling. Despite how badly my body needs sleep, I feel too wired to let it happen. I’m overtired, and my body is still pulsing from the steaminess in the cave. The best part was how obsessed and shocked he looked when I swallowed his release.
It wasn’t like I planned it. It felt so right, and the reward was Mikhail’s attention crashing into me like nothing and nobody else existed. Standing, I enter the en suite, shower, and head for the front door.
A guard on the door steps aside and says, “Miss.”
Three guards saw Mikhail and I enter via the secret entrance, but the second the mechanism started, they turned away and pretended to ignore us. I’m familiar with that sort of thing. Bratva men know how to mind their business.
I don’t even have to knock when I reach the other house. Yuri, the butler, opens the door. “Miss Petrov.”
“I was wondering if Lia was awake?”
“Yes, miss. She’s painting in the library.”
“Could you ask if she wants to see me?”
He nods, leaving me to wait. When we returned to the compound, it was like we had never left, like this place had its own atmosphere. I even felt guilty for what we did—letting ourselves forget when my brother needs us.
Yuri returns and then leads me into the library. Lia sits in front of a canvas. She’s sketched the outline of a woman holding a baby. She turns to me in her chair. I can tell she’s had as little sleep as I have. I wonder if that lack of sleep includes Dimitri.
