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Adrian nods his head slowly. “I’m afraid so, son. William wanted to mete out punishment on Lars for keeping the affair from him when he knew. But he also wanted to hurt Kir, for obvious reasons. He had Kir’s sister, Polina, and her husband, Daniil, killed. Though he seems to have missed their son, Kir’s nephew, Damian.”
My teeth grind as Adrian looks into the fire again.
“But that wasn’t enough for William. He was angry that Kir didn’t have a family of his own—a wife, children—for him to mete his revenge out on. So William picked the next best thing.”
Oh God…
“Yourfamily,” Adrian says quietly. “He killed them to hurt Kir.”
Everything goes numb and cold. My mind is wrenched back through time, to that horrible, shivering moment when Iclimbed out of the pool wet, cold, and alone to find my home in flames and my family lying in pools of their blood.
Adrian exhales sharply. “William wanted to hurt Kir—deeply. Killing Kir would have been too easy. Killing your uncle Lars, and your entire family?Thatwas a much better revenge. William knew that Kir and Lars were close. He wanted Kir to live with your family’s blood on his hands.”
I can’t breathe for a moment. My entire body goes cold, and the room around me warps as it all sinks in. The massacre that took everything from me—my family, my childhood—wasn’t an act of greed or power. It was personal. A twisted act of vengeance against Kir.
The cards start to fall into place. The intel Oren dug up about the hit William had out on Kir, and how after my family’s death, that hit just—faded away.
It all makes terrible, monstrous sense now. William Lindqvist didn’t want Kir dead anymore after that. He wanted him tosuffer,remembering the blood of my family. Remembering Lars’ body, hanged and burned. Remembering my mother and sister, raped, tortured, and murdered.
He destroyed my family to punish Kir.
I sit there in stunned silence, my mind swirling with rage and disbelief. All this time, I thought Kir might have been involved in the slaughter. But the truth is even worse. Indirectly, he was the reason behind it all. My family was murderedbecause of him.
I stand to leave, but Adrian’s voice stops me cold.
“You didn’t ask about the girl.”
I pause, turning to face him. “Girl?”
Adrian’s lips curl into a grim smile. “Petra’s daughter from the affair.”
My blood runs cold.
“Petra Lindqvisthadthe baby?” I whisper, dread clawing at my throat.
Adrian looks me dead in the eye, his words dropping like a bomb. “She did. And she raised her as if she were her and William’s daughter. Kir never even knew she existed—Petra’s choice, to keep the girl safe from her own husband.”
Everything goes still. The entire world around me turns quiet and cold as the reality plunges into me like a vicious blade.
This can’t be happening.
“You know I’m telling you the truth, lad,” Adrian says quietly. “And I think you already know who she is.”
It feels like I’m hurtling toward a black hole, being swallowed by nothingness and dropping into free-fall.
“They named her Freya.”
The weight of the revelation crashes down on me, threatening to crush me. I can barely breathe, my mind reeling, trying to process what this means.
Trying to process that Freya isKir’s fucking daughter.
I don’t quite remember what I say to Adrian by way of goodbye, just stumbling out of his office, my hands shaking, my heart pounding so hard it feels like it’s going to explode from my chest. The street outside is loud, chaotic, but all I can hear is my heart pounding in my ears.
Freya. Kir. My family.
It all blurs together in a chaotic mix of blood, history, and loss.
Just then, my phone rings. I glance curiously at Annika’s name on the screen before I answer.
