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Freya choked slightly, and her lips curved in a small smile. “I once booked a last-minute trip to Europe with a friend.”
“You go, girl. You’re an adventurous one, I see?”
The smile fell. “Sometimes against my own will.”
“And what’s your favorite childhood memory?”
The question caught everyone off guard, including Freya. The faintest flicker of pain crossed her features before her expression softened. She chewed on her lower lip, picking through which story to tell.
“When I was younger, I used to spend summers at my grandparents’ farm. One summer, I had a balloon fight with the neighbors’ kids. It was my first time, and it was pure joy. But my mother didn’t think so because she had to dry up and pick the torn rubbers from my hair.”
Nadia chuckled, sweeping her dyed red hair behind her ears. “That sounds like so much fun! Family is everything, isn’t it?”
“It is,” the old man interjected. “And in my opinion, I think my daughter has had her fun with you.”
He dropped his cutlery on his ceramic and straightened up, dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “Dinner was fantastic, but I think we should get to know a bit more about where you come from—you know, your family?”
Her hands went still on her fork, and she forcibly swallowed the chunk of food in her mouth before looking up at the old man with that stiff smile again.
“My mother loves open skies and green grass, so she lives in Colorado Springs with my half-sister, Zeya, and my stepdad, Knoxx. She’s a high school teacher, and he’s into real estate.”
Grandpa raised a brow at her obvious omission. “And your biological father?”
She hesitated and stuck a forkful of mashed potatoes into her mouth before responding. “He was a cop, the most decorated officer in the police department.”
Grandpa and Nadia shared a laugh at the irony while she hastily gulped down a full glass of water.
“A cop, huh? Decorated police officer. Must have been pretty good keeping all those bad guys under lock and key, yeah? I mean, I should have at least heard of him. What’s his name?”
Freya was done eating, and her grave expression was fully fledged. “Aaron Fox. That was his name.”
Kir Yezhov fell eerily quiet, and I noticed the crease of his brow and his sudden disinterest in continuing the conversation. Nadia was more than happy to continue, making light jokes about attractive cops she’d been with, but I kept my sight trained on my grandfather.
He’d mumbled something, took an excuse, and left the table. I smelled something fishy.
Something was up, and I was going to find out what it was.
Chapter 18 – Freya
Two Weeks After the Family Dinner
My mom once told me that ten percent of life was what happened, and ninety percent was how I chose to respond. Judging by my current response to the life I’d found myself in, fate was probably laughing at me. It knew the worst was yet to come.
I stood in front of the mirror, my reflection staring back at me in a wedding gown, which was certainly the most beautiful I had ever seen. However, it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered, whether it was expensive or delicately designed. It felt like a coffin—like I was being buried alive and forced to watch.
The sheer lace and satin suffocated me, weighing me down with every passing moment. As I continued to stare, I felt like the walls were closing in on me, and I was drowning at the same time. I knew that once I walked down that aisle, my freedom would be gone, extinguished like a flame in a hurricane. The truth of my reality set in; I would be nothing more than his prisoner, his trophy, his property.
I confirmed from Anna that the news of my engagement to thePahkan, the ruthless leader of the Russian mob, had spread like wildfire across the country and beyond. Everyone knew, and they whispered. Back in my department, my colleagues who had deemed me a valuable asset now considered me a traitor. I didn’t even want to imagine how disappointed Sergeant Keith must have been.
Desperation crept in.
The gown’s corseted bodice seemed to tighten around me, constricting my breath. I thought of the one time I tried to escape and got caught. I wondered how John was and if Egorhad set him free. I experienced my life flash before my eyes and how badly I wanted to cry at the charade it had turned out to be.
In less than an hour, I was walking down the aisle with a withering lilac bouquet in my grip—withering because I refused to water it after Anna surprised me with the gift bouquet.I wanted to feel bad; she’d done nothing but pick beautiful flowers to try and cheer me up, but it had the opposite effect.
It reminded me of the impending doom that awaited me.
Don’t cry, Freya. Don’t cry.
