Page 165

“I was trying to save you.”

A crushing ache spread through her chest, squeezing tighter with every breath. Her throat burned. Her stomach churned. Every beat of her heart felt sharp enough to cut.

Because this wasn’t about Vasily.

Or revenge.

Or even murder.

It was about the one thing she’d spent years fighting to reclaim.

The one thing she’d clawed back inch by painful inch.

Her autonomy.

Her power.

“You took my power from me.”

Ronan’s eyes closed. “Lissy—”

“You took my choice.” The tears were falling freely now, hot and relentless. A sob lodged in her throat.

For a moment she was a child again.

Powerless.

Trapped.

At the mercy of people who took and took and took until there was nothing left.

“And for that…” Her voice faltered.

The pain was so fierce she had to wrap her arms around herself just to remain standing. “For that, I don’t know if I can ever forgive you.”

She braced for him to argue. Fight his case.

Fight for them.

“I know,” he whispered, his own voice hoarse.

His quiet acceptance hit harder than any denial could have, and she could do nothing but stare at him, disbelief and pain tumbling around, devastating her.

A knock on the door shattered the silence.

Felicity jumped, suddenly panicked.

Ronan glanced toward the door. “That … that’ll be the FBI.”

The room tilted. “What?”

“Agent Barker.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “He called about an hour ago. Said he needed to talk to us.”

The blood drained from her face.

Every worst-case scenario she’d imagined came roaring to life.

A witness.