Page 92 of Twisted Princess

“Do you blame me for their deaths?” I murmur, realizing that could easily be why he’s been so quiet. I wouldn’t blame him. If not for me, Lev and Denka would never have been in danger.

“No,” he says, his voice sure and steady as he lifts his head to meet my gaze.

But I can still sense that something’s wrong. He’s talking to me, calmly even, but his walls are up. And now I’m not sure why.

“Are you mad about Gabby?” I breathe, icy resignation creeping up my spine as my chest tightens painfully.

Gleb tenses, and my heart sinks.

I’ve found the sore spot.

That calm mask settles into place across his handsome face. So I study his eyes closely, seeking the answers it’s taking an eternity to receive.

Finally, he releases a heavy breath, as if he must have been holding it since we left Boston. “I’m not… mad,” he starts haltingly, making it very hard to believe him. “But it stings more than I’d like to admit—knowing you felt you had to claim that I’m her father. Did you really think you had to lie to convince me to look after your daughter? Haven’t I demonstrated that I would care for Gabby regardless?”

I can hear the betrayal in his voice. The agony.

And it hits me like a physical blow.

Immediately, my defenses fly up as we come back to this point. And rather than addressing my injury, I’m suddenly ready to lash out.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn to fully face him. And I scowl with all my building frustration. “How are you so sure you’re not the father?” I demand.

To my surprise, Gleb doesn’t push back. Instead, he looks almost… broken. “Because, Mel,” he says sadly, “I know you. When you’re desperate, you say whatever you think people want to hear. You’ve done it more times than I can count.”

My blood turns to ice, and I feel it draining from my face as the fight leaves me all at once. My arms drop to my sides, the wind is knocked clean from my lungs. And all I can do is stare at Gleb as his words rip me apart.

“Just today, you lied about our marriage being fake,” he continues. “You told Keoghan Kelly that you wanted to marry his cousin—and you only admitted we’re married after he dragged you back in to demand the truth. You want to know what I think, Mel?”

No. Because I’m not sure how much more of a beating I can take. “What?”

“I think the most truthful thing you said was your defense at the end—‘In a world as cold and brutal as this one, a woman has to do whatever it takes to survive and to protect her child.’ You would do anything for Gabby. Even lie to me.”

Quoting it word for word, he throws my words back in my face like they’re a weapon. And it makes me draw back as if he actually slapped me.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he insists. “I respect the hell out of you for it. You’re a fighter, Mel, and a fiercely protective mother. Gabby’s lucky to have a mom who would put everything on the line to keep her safe. And I know that. But I hate that you keep putting me into the same space as all the other men who have betrayed you. After everything, I would hope I’ve earned a bit more trust than that.”

Gleb’s hand fists, and that vulnerability shifts back into passionate anger as his eyes flash with hurt and frustration. “I know I’m not perfect. But I don’t think I deserve to be treated like I’m as bad as Mikhail or your uncle. And I don’t see how we move forward when you won’t tell me the truth.”

Gleb’s eyes drop again as he shakes his head, this time in shame.

Is he ashamed of me?

“I’m normally good at reading people, at knowing when they’re lying, but with you…?” His eyes find mine with such intense ferocity, it makes my heart skip a beat. And when he finishes his sentence, his voice is soft with defeat. “I just can’t tell, and it’s slowly driving me insane.”

He really doesn’t believe me. Somehow, that hurts more than all the rest.

The fact is, he thinks so little of me that he can’t trust if I know who Gabby’s father is.

“I am telling the truth,” I say, my voice quavering with emotion. “You got me pregnant that first night we were together. And you know what? You can believe me or not. I don’t care anymore. But you’re the only man I’ve ever slept with. So try telling me now that Gabby’s not yours!” My temper builds as I finally find the courage to say it. And by the end of my outburst, I’m actually shouting.

Opening the passenger door, I quickly get out.

And I slam it behind me so hard I rock the truck.

33

GLEB

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