Page 12 of Crowned

Dad affects a woman’s high-pitched voice. “Babulya, I am in Trieste.”

I groan and close my eyes. He hadBabulya’sphone tapped. What a stupid mistake to make.

“Trieste is an interesting place for a young woman on the run. Why come here? Where have you been all this time?”

Where have Ibeen. How long has he got?

To buy myself some time to think, I put my handbag down on the side table and grab a bottle of water. After a long drink, I screw the cap back on.

After my husband was killed by the feds, Dad plucked me from my life as Mrs. Lilia Kalashnik and forced me back into his home. I was reeling from the shock of losing my husband. Rumors were spreading that I had been the one to sell him out to the cops. All of Ivan’s friends, family, and men were turning on me.

But surely not Elyah.

Elyah, the man who claimed to love me, who cherished me above all things. He held me in his arms as I sobbed after losing my baby. Elyah would never believe that I gave the cops one shred of help after what they had taken away from me.

I fled my father’s home, and the first thing I did was go looking for him. His apartment was abandoned. My former home with Ivan stood empty and no handsome, tattooed man with ice-blue eyes and proud cheekbones stepped into the driveway and swept me into his arms.Solnyshko, I have been waiting here night and day hoping you would return.

Upstairs in the master bedroom, I realized he never would. Someone had smashed in the mirror on my wardrobe. He’d broken every picture of me. I could feel his rage and betrayal boiling in the empty room.

If Elyah ever saw me again, it would be to wrap his powerful hands around my throat and choke the life out of me.

So, I changed my name and slipped away.

The universe must have been holding its sides in hysterical laughter the night I crossed paths with Kirill in Milan, a dangerous, psychotic killer with the face of a beautiful devil. He hunted me down for sport and delivered me unconscious into the hands of hisPakhan,who was about to embark on a dark and twisted imitation of a beauty pageant. If that wasn’t terrifying enough, there was my former lover, vowing to kill me as soon as I was eliminated from the competition.

I eye my father warily. Summed up like that, it sounds preposterous, but I have one of the few fathers on this earth who would actually believe the tale. He’s in the Russian mafia in America. He knows how these men think, how they work, their convoluted plans and schemes. I haven’t cried since I escaped the villa at Lake Como. I haven’t had the energy. Maybe if he were some other Russian mafia father, I could cry all my tears of terror and heartache out on his shoulder while he promised that I was safe and that he would hunt down the men who took me prisoner and personally execute them.

But my father has never loved me or treated me like his daughter. He’s only ever been interested in what I can do for him.

I shrug and play with the water bottle cap, making my tone one of nonchalance. “I was working in Milan. I wasn’t sure what to do next and Trieste seemed as good a place as any to hide from you.”

“You didn’t call yourbabulyafor days and days, and then you told her where you were. You have never done that before. Something has happened.”

I keep my face carefully blank. It’s not that the pageant is a shameful secret I have to keep, or that Konstantin, Elyah, and Kirill must be protected. Far fucking from it. But my father is the last person who needs to know about my trauma and vulnerabilities.

“What’s different is that you’re here in my hotel room, uninvited. Go back to America, Dad. I don’t want anything from you and I’m not coming home.”

He gives me a thin smile. “Yes, you are, Lilia. You’re going to do exactly what I say.”

The two muscle-bound assholes Dad brought with him close in on me.

Shit.

I need two things if I’m going to get out of this predicament. Time and money. Real money, enough to disappear so completely that Dad will never find me again.

“You and I are getting on a plane, and—”

“Wait.” A plan is forming in my mind. It’s risky as hell, and it might blow up in my face and leave me in an even worse position than the one I’m in right now, but it’s the best idea I have. “I’m not going anywhere with you until we’ve discussed what my future will look like. I want to have a say in what happens to me next. Let’s go have coffee and talk about it. Just the two of us. Not them.” I jerk my chin at his men.

Dad taps his fingers on the armrests, regarding me in silence. “What a silly plan, Lilia. Do you really think I’m going to take you somewhere alone just so you can escape?”

“It’s not a plan.” Not all of it, anyway. “This is my private business, and I don’t want your muscle-bound idiots listening in on what we talk about. I’m tired of everyone spreading lies and rumors about me.”

“They’ll keep their distance, but my men are coming with us.”

“Fine, but it had better be a good distance. Shall we?” I pick up my handbag and pull it over my shoulder.

As Dad and I walk along the streets of Trieste together, his men are half a dozen steps behind us. We make our way through the sunshine, past shoppers and tourists, feeling Dad’s sharp gaze on the side of my neck and knowing that he’s ready to grab me at any moment if I try to run.

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