Willow had never killed someone before but knew in that moment if it meant her child’s life or any of these men, she would.
Happily.
Well, maybe not happily.
Possibly happy...who cared? She just needed to get some water for her child.
The side door opened, and a tall solid man walked in. Nikolay Mikhailov.
She shouldn’t be surprised, but coming face-to-face with him was another thing.
Slowly, he walked in front of her cage and his eyes rolled over her. He paid little attention to the princess and that worried her.
Pushing down her fear because fuck him, Willow kept her eyes on him until he finally stopped in front of her.
He looked directly at her and smirked. “Willow Moretti.”
As she’d predicted, the men outside could hear and communicate with her through the glass.
Cunts.
“Nice of you to join us,” he continued. “I hope the accommodations are to your liking.”
What a fucking psycho.
Again, not news to her. If she’d been on her own, she might have been a smart-ass, but with her daughter crying in her arms, thirsty and with a wet diaper, Willow was desperate to appeal to his sense of humanity.
If he had any.
Let’s face it, he was a murderer.
“My child needs water and to be changed,” she said calmly.
His brows slowly lifted as his hands slid into the pocket of his pants.
Shit.
“Well, here’s the thing, Princess Willow.” He said her title with a complete lack of respect. “I don’t give a fuck. You’re only here to draw your king to me, then you will die. My team was not tasked with bringing your soon-to-die offspring, so...you get the picture.”
The only picture I have is of me or my mate ripping your fucking head off your body.
She stared at him, hatred pouring from every cell in her body.
“The king isn’t coming for me. I’m not the queen,” Willow said through clenched teeth. “He won’t care.”
Willow was almost certain that Brayden would have lost his mind and triggered a full-scale war with both her and Isabella gone.
Heck, even Vincent would be a little upset with her not being around.
“Interesting.” He nodded slowly, then lifted a shoulder. “Someone will come, and then the next and then the next. Eventually, Vincent will face me.”
Willow shook her head.
He was wrong. He’d be dead before that happened.
Nikolay leaned forward. “Then he will be under my control.”
Jesus, he was insane.