Page 61 of Bratva and Betrayal: Kirill

The tension in my shoulders loosens just a fraction with her acknowledgment.

Ares turns back to his wife. “We need to go back to the hotel, my love. You need rest.”

I watch the way he looks at her, the way his hand rests on her stomach. Did Kirill look at me like that when I was pregnant? A strange ache blooms in my chest because all those memories are lost.

Lourdes said Kirill looked like he loved me in this video she’s talking about. But he doesn’t anymore. I can tell.

“Where is Elodie?” I ask, remembering that she’s still missing.

A strange silence falls over the room, and Ares’s expression hardens. When Lourdes looks away first, my stomach twists into a knot.

“What?” I ask, looking between them. “What happened to her? Tell me! It’s my fault.”

“No, honey, it’s not,” Lourdes tries to assure me.

“Nothing happened to her,” Ares says, his shoulders squared.

Which means something definitely happened.

“Ares,” Lourdes says quietly.

His jaw tightens. “I’m working on it. Calls have been placed. I know the man who has her.”

“Where is she?” I press. “What are you working on?”

Lourdes reaches for my hand. “Ares will bring her home.”

Home. The word has no meaning to me anymore.

“Bring her home from where?”

Another look passes between them. One I don’t understand.

“We’ll talk more about it later,” Lourdes says softly. “Okay? You need to rest more so you feel better.”

I don’t like that answer. I don’t like any of this. It’s always been about me. I don’t want my cousin to be less of a concern because I had a freaking panic attack.

Lourdes squeezes my hand. “We’re staying at the Fairmont,” she says. “I’ll call you later.”

“How? I don’t have a phone,” I say with more bitterness than any other time since the accident.

For the first time in five years, I’m back in the world, and I feel how far behind I’ve fallen.

“I’ll get her a phone,” a deep voice cuts in from the doorway.

My entire body goes rigid as I turn my head to see Kirill leaning against the doorframe, watching us with those impossible cobalt eyes.

“And I’ll give you her number, Lourdes,” he says kindly. “You can call anytime.”

Ares and Kirill stare each other down for a few moments. Then Ares straightens and lifts his hand to shake Kirill’s. The two powerful men don’t say anything. Ares breaks the hold first and uses that hand to wrap it around Lourdes’s waist, keeping her from touching Kirill.

They leave me alone with him. My husband. The father of my child.

Violet. My daughter. God, she saw me melt down. She’s here in this house. I feel a strange pull. I want her.

Kirill steps inside and shuts the door.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.