Page 224 of Marrying the Savage

I claw at his hand. “Let me go.”

“You should have stayed in the room.”

“You should have stayed loyal.”

His grip tightens. He drags me toward the balustrade. The moment I feel the stone behind my legs, panic floods in me.

“No.” The word comes out small and raw.

Grigori hears it, and his face changes. “There,” he says. “Now you understand.”

I shove at his chest, but he’s stronger, and the gun is still in his hand. He presses me back until the stone edge bites into my spine.

“Do you know what they said about Elena?” he asks.

My blood goes cold. “No.”

“They said grief destroyed him. They said Damir never came back whole after she fell.” Grigori leans closer, his voice quiet now. “I will make it look just like Elena’s death.”

I stop breathing.

“Pregnant young wife. He just put too much pressure on her, you know? Tragic.” His eyes move over my face. “Damir will lose his mind. He will never come out of it this time.”

The terrace seems to tilt under me. I grip his wrist with both hands, trying to keep the gun away from my body and my back away from the drop.

“He loves you, you know,” Grigori says.

I look up at him.

“He does,” Grigori continues, almost gently. “That is why this works.”

A sound comes from inside the house.

Grigori hears it too late. I see his eyes shift.

Then Damir is there. He comes through the terrace doors with a gun in his hand and murder on his face.

“Let her go,” he says.

Grigori turns just enough to pull me in front of him. The barrel of his gun presses into my side.

Damir stops.

The entire world becomes the space between them.

“Move back,” Grigori says.

Damir’s eyes don’t leave mine. “Are you hurt?”

I shake my head once, even though everything hurts.

“Damir,” Grigori shouts. “Move back.”

Damir looks at him then, and I have never seen that expression on his face before. Not at the church. Not at the club. Not even when he was angry with Sergei.

“You used Maksim,” Damir says.

Grigori’s jaw tightens. “He will live.”