Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
“Be-because…” She digs her nails into my palm, striving to loosen my hold. When her fight only has me doubling my grip, she tries another tactic. “Sh-she’s my c-cousin. I-I forgot she changed her name.”
I laugh off her lie like a madman. “A cousin with identical eyes, skin, and walk. A cousin with the same fantastic tits and sweltering waist but without the cutesy features that lower your praise from gorgeous to pretty. Is that the cousin you’re referring to, Arabella Dokovic?”
She nods, and it shreds the last of my leniencies.
“I am not a man you lie to and live to tell the tale!” I roar, my thunderous words echoing in the tight confines of the elevator. “Tell me the fucking truth. Now! Or I will gut you where you stand.”
“But I’m your bloo—”
I steal the words I refuse to hear seep from her lips by fully compressing on her airways. She is seconds from death. “You are nothing to me, but you are even more worthless to them.” I don’t need to mention the federation for her to know who I am referencing. My sneer speaks on my behalf. “If you don’t learn that fast, you’ll only ever learn it one way. In death.”
Her watering eyes barely bounce between mine for half a second before she murmurs, “Ok-okay. Okay.” Tears stream down her face as she gives honesty a whirl for the first time in God knows how long. “They’re seeking a pure bl-bloodline. They want a royal lineage like back in the ancient Romanian times.” She chokes on her last word, but it doesn’t weaken the truth in her eyes. “But Zoya is infertile, so she wasn’t a good candidate.” As my hope slithers to the abyss, she discloses, “Zoya doesn’t know who our father is. They’ve kept it from her for years. I only recently found out after I tried to…” The shame in her eyes finalizes her reply.
She knows my secret. She knows I fell in love with my sister and that I’m still fucking obsessed with her, because the humiliation in her eyes while recalling the night she tried to seduce me mimics mine to a T anytime I look in a mirror.
She’s mortified, but something far more vital than dishonor is keeping her blood pumping through her veins.
The realization loosens my grip. Only by a smidge. I’m too angry to fully let go. I’m not mad that I am being continually controlled. That’s been the basis of my existence since birth. It is knowing how much the steps I must take tomorrow to save my son’s life will devastate Zoya. She has spoken fondly of her sister often, and that family ties are vitally important to her since she basically has none.
As much as I wish I could comfort her through this, that isn’t something I can do.
I don’t trust myself around her.
I doubt I ever will.
So instead of placing the entirety of the blame of my fuckups on someone else, I free Arabella from my clutch and step back.
With a sob, she falls to her knees and drags in big breaths that are sharply redrawn when I say, “Uninvite her to the wedding. I don’t care how you do it, but I want it done tonight.”
Her words are husky when she asks, “You still want to go ahead with it?”
It is a challenge, but I nod. “I don’t have a choice.”
Confident she won’t dare second-guess my authority, I exit the elevator on the next floor, bumping into one of Maksim’s paid goons on my way out.
63
ZOYA
“Hey…” I swivel on the spot, never more nervous. “I was just on my way to see you. Are you coming or going?”
Aleena sounds as nervous as I feel. “Ah… a little bit of both.” She points to a door that leads to the rooftop. “I needed some fresh air, but I didn’t want to go all the way down to the lobby, so I thought I’d go up a couple of floors instead.” She peers at the door I tore through five seconds after building the courage to confront her. “Did I wake you?”
“No. Not at all. I was awake.” For reasons I don’t want to tell you.
After gripping her hand in mine, I lead her to one of those fancy armchairs that almost looks too regal to sit on. They’re more to glam up the boring hallways than for seating purposes.
“I really need to tell you something, and unfortunately, it can’t wait. I—”
“Kazimir told me everything.”
My mouth gapes and I choke on a breath that was clearing some of the butterflies in my stomach. “He did?”
She wets her lips and nods. “Uh-huh.”
He couldn’t have told her everything. There’s no way. Who in their right mind would be this calm if they found out their fiancé was sleeping with their sister?