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While she might wield power with her shipping company, I’m sure I’ll find a way around it if I have to. What I won’t have is being told not to kill the man who took my brother’s life and stole my wife. Mother or not, I’m no longer a child or someone to be manipulated by my family—I control the family business now.
“Sit down, Mother.“ My voice is low and controlled. My eyes hold hers in a battle of wills. I can see why my father has always been besotted with her. At that moment, I realize why I fell so quickly under Isabella’s spell—she has the same fire, and strength my mother has. Fuck! I married my mother! “You may be able to wield your control over Father, but I’m not lazy like him. There are plenty of shipping companies out there. Fuck, I’ll start my own if need be. I know the business well enough, having grown up with it.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” My mother looks at me in disbelief.
“I’m having a rather shitty day,” I warn. “Besides the obvious that my wedding day was ruined and I’m not going to be enjoying my wedding night…” Sergei stands and pulls my mother back to her seat. “I’ve been drugged with some weird super drug, found out my father has been marked by the same fucking bastard that killed my brother and took my wife. Oh, and then I learn that fucking bastard happens to be my brother-in-law, the leader of the Zhukov Special Forces and heir to the Zhukov throne.”
“Andrey…” My mother’s voice drops to her soothing one again, and remorse flashes in her eyes. I hold up my index finger, silencing her.
“Not only is there a container of painted ladies heading straight to Zhukov, compliments of the Belovs from some mysterious hackers, but my mother is also defending the fuckhead who’s probably behind it all so he can claim what was stolen from him—whatever that may be.”
“Konstantin is not behind the painted ladies.” Segei’s voice is filled with certainty. “Like Grace, he has a distaste for human trafficking born from personal experience.”
My head shoots toward my mother. “What the fuck does that mean?” I knew there was a story behind my mother and her father never allowing that kind of cargo on their transport. I can’t say I can stomach it either, but it has been like an obsession for my mother. But she never told us why, and my father never spoke about it.
“Mom, were you taken?” I don’t know how else to put that.
“No,” My mother says, shaking her head. Her eyes darken. “But my mother and younger sister were.” She swallows, closing her eyes for a few seconds, gathering herself. “They were kidnapped and used to try to leverage my father.”
“Jesus, Mom.” I lean forward on the table and put my hand over hers. “I’m sorry. You never told us.”
“It was never a story I like to remember, let alone share,” my mother tells me with a tight smile.
“You said Konstantin has personal experience with human trafficking?”
My mother purses her lips and nods. Her eyes are misty from the dark, haunting memories.
“Your late grandmother and aunt were kidnapped,” Sergei tells me, “but Konstantin was sold.”
“By whom?” As soon as the question comes out of my mouth, I feel I already know the answer to the question.
“Marco!” my mother replies.
Fuck, no wonder he hates his father! “That’s why he hates his father. But why does he hate mine?”
“Do you think Marco ever does anything without your father’s help?” Sergei’s eyes flash with malice and disdain.
Chapter 18
ISABELLA
Six Weeks Later
“Bella!” Stacy’s voice seems far away. “Are you okay?”
“What happened?” I rub my temples, feeling groggy.
“You passed out—again!“ Stacy looks at me with concern in her eyes. “Pavel has gone to get your prescription for iron and the other stuff the doctor prescribed yesterday.”
“It’s all the damn vomiting.” My throat burns from it, and I’ve gone through so much toothpaste to disguise the acidic taste. “I hope Pavel gets me something for that.”
“That’s what pregnancy does to you,” Stacy points out and smiles. “Makes you sick, giddy, and moody.”
“I’m not moody!” snaps through my gritted teeth before my eyes widen. “Fuck. I’m moody.”
Stacy nods. “Yup, poor Davey tip-toes around you. Even Pavel cowers when you get all snappy.” Her grin broadens. “Just like the princess you are.” She winks. “I brought you some freshly squeezed apple juice.”
“Thank you.” My hands close over the glass, cooled just like I like it with some ice in the juice. “It’s the only thing I can stomach at the moment—apples.”
