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“Kill me if you want,” she says, her voice suddenly flat and sociopathic. “It won’t save Cora.”
My finger is poised over the trigger. It’s itching to retract. To wipe this waste of space off the face of the earth. “Is Cora alive? Fucking tell me the truth.Now!”
Francia’s lashes flutter. “For the time being. But whether you kill me or not, she’ll be dead before you reach her. Or rather, she’ll wish she was dead when she finds out who’s coming for her.”
That’s haunting, but at least it’s a flicker of hope in the darkness. A spark of light at the end of this horrifying fucking tunnel.
“What do you want?” Yasha asks. “We protected you. We gave you everything. Why do all of this?”
Francia barks out a laugh. “Everything?You think an apartment in some second-rate shithole downtown is everything? I want to be in the mansion. I want the ring on my finger.”
She lifts her hand and I see a very familiar ring gleaming there. She didn’t have it on before, but there it is, unmistakable: Cora’s wedding ring.
My lips pull away from my teeth as I snarl. “Where did you get that?”
“Cora handed it over,” she says. “She was more than happy to trade places with me. Turns out your fiancée isn’t as committed to you as I’ll be.”
Liar.She’s lying. Cora would have fought to her last breath to never give Francia the satisfaction of seeing her wilt.
“You want to marry Ivan?” Yasha asks in disbelief.
She tips her head to the side, grinning. “Actually, Ivan wants to marry me.”
She’s insane. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. “Not a chance in hell.”
She shrugs. “If you refuse me, hell is your only chance of seeing Cora again. Because she’ll die. Before you can wrap those deliciously meaty hands around my throat, she’ll be gone.”
“What do you want?” I growl.
Francia steps forward as if I don’t have a gun pointed at her head. She reaches out and strokes a hand down my chest, Cora’s ring glistening on her finger. “It’s simple. I wantyou, Ivan. Marry me and Cora lives. Refuse me and she dies. So what’s it gonna be?”
