Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Lazarus’ eyes narrow as he looks at the photo. It’s a shot of Christopher, deep in conversation with Enzo and Yuri. His expression tightens, anger flashing briefly before he masks it. “I see,” he says, his voice low and measured.
He stands abruptly, straightening his jacket as if brushing off the whole conversation. “You’ve been very helpful, Father.”
I watch as he strides out of my office, his men trailing behind him like shadows. The door closes softly, but the tension in the air remains, thick and suffocating. My heart slams around in my chest, adrenaline pumping through my veins.
What is Christopher up to? And what’s his connection to the Russians? I stare down at the phone in my hand, my mind racing.
The pieces are coming together, but the full picture remains terrifyingly unclear.
Chapter 34
Evangelina
I settle on my sofa, the warm weight of a glass of red wine in my hand as I try to unwind after dropping Nate off with his father. The apartment is quiet, and I let out a long breath, thinking about all the questions swirling in my head. Questions I need him to answer. The priest.
It’s time for the truth. Time for him to finally confess.
I’m about to take another sip when there’s a knock at the door, the sound sharp in the stillness. My heart picks up its pace. I know who it is. Benedict. My mind races with everything I need to say, everything I’ve been holding in since our last encounter.
But when I open the door, it’s not Benedict standing there.
It’s Christopher.
A cold wave of dread washes over me and I try to slam the door in his face. He stops the door from closing with his foot, and he pushes his way inside.
“Christopher, what are you doing here?” My voice is steadier than I feel, but barely.
Without a word, he barges past me, not even giving me the courtesy of stepping aside. He’s always been like this, so used to taking up space, demanding control. How could I have ever married this man?
“Come in,” I mutter under my breath, sarcasm coating every word. I close the door and turn to face him, my stomach knotting tighter with each second.
He strides into the middle of my apartment, his eyes scanning the space, but then he stops, turning sharply to face me. His gaze pins me in place, his expression cold, calculating. "Where’s the father?" His voice drips with accusation, and for a moment, I falter.
"What?" My pulse quickens, and my face must give something away because his lips curl into a smirk.
"You've always been a shit liar, Eva," Christopher says, his arms crossing over his chest in that infuriatingly confident way of his. He leans against the back of my couch like he owns the place, like he still owns me.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to keep my composure. He knows something—he always does. Christopher has a way of sniffing out secrets, manipulating them to his advantage. But I can’t give him more than he already has.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, keeping my voice even, though my nerves are jangling beneath the surface.
He laughs, a dark, humorless sound that fills the room. “You think I don’t see it? I’ve got eyes everywhere, sweetheart. You and that priest—” he sneers the word, like it’s filthy, “—you’re playing a dangerous game.”
My blood runs cold, and I take a small step back, putting some distance between us. "Christopher, leave."
He tilts his head, studying me like he’s assessing just how far he can push. "You really think you can keep him safe? Keep Nate safe?" His eyes flicker with something darker, something that sends a shiver down my spine. “You forget who you’re dealing with.”
My heart pounds in my chest. Nate. My whole world. I keep my face blank, but my hands are shaking behind my back. "Get out, Christopher."
He pushes off the couch, taking a slow step toward me, towering over me with that sick, controlling grin. "You think I’m going anywhere? I’m not done yet. And neither are you, Eva."
For a moment, we just stare at each other, the tension thick enough to suffocate. I want to scream, to throw him out of my life once and for all, but I know better than to provoke him. Not when he holds all the power. Not when Nate is involved.
I take a breath, steadying myself. “If you want something, spit it out.”
Christopher’s grin fades into something colder, more dangerous. "This priest of yours—he’s not who you think he is. And I’m going to make sure you find that out the hard way."
He turns to leave, but before he reaches the door, he stops, casting a chilling smile over his shoulder. “It’s funny how you think I’m leaving here without you.”
My heart skips a beat. “What?” I step back, my body instinctively trying to create space between us, but it’s not enough.