Page 56 of Cruel Promise

That’s the only reason I’m going along with what Nikolai wants.

The image of the bloodstain on the floor fills my mind. It doesn’t go away when I sleep. It doesn’t go away when I’m awake. It’s still there when Claude makes snide comments to me about how much I haven’t been eating. It’s also there when Mrs. Brown tries to comfort me.

None of it works.

My mom’s body was just … gone. So, what happened to her?

I can’t wait for Nikolai to ask questions—if he even will.

I need to do it myself. My father is my problem. He killed my mother. It’s only fair that I’m the one to confront him about this.

He lives not too far from Nikolai actually. It shouldn’t take long to get to him—I just need to get past Nikolai’s guards. The moment I leave the house, they’ll see me. Or Edmund will alert Nikolai. Nothing is binding me to the house, and yet I’m a prisoner.

The only time that makes sense is at night when I can use the cover of darkness to help protect me against the guards Nikolai has stationed across the street.

So, that’s what I do. I wait and wait and wait until it’s time.

Edmund leaves his post around ten at night. Mrs. Brown and Edmund both live within the large house. I keep my eye on him—hidden in the living room—as he heads to the staff quarters, and then I make my way to the front door. I made sure to wear a long shirt and a long skirt since there wasn’t any pants in the closet, and I put the hood up on my jacket for good measure.

Nikolai doesn’t stop me as I leave the house. Once more, I wonder why he doesn’t just lock me up. Why does he keep allowing me to escape? Does he hope I’ll return of my own accord?

Never.

Now that I know where Nikolai’s guards are stationed, I see them immediately. They’re in the car across the street. Because I see them, they must see me, too, which means I only have a few minutes at most to make my escape and try to lose them.

After a few minutes of walking, I glance behind me and spy one of the guards, keeping his distance, following me. I turn the corner then another and another, but each time, he’s still behind me.

I head down to the subway. Earlier today, I made sure to sneak some money out of Mrs. Brown’s purse. Was it wrong of me to steal from her? Yes. But I need answers about my mother, and my father is the only one who knows. He has to since he’s the one who killed her. This world is a dark place, and slowly, it’s turning me into a different person—one who steals without remorse.

I buy a ticket and hurry through to the platform where a train has just pulled up. I jump on board. When I glance back, I see the guard on the platform, his cell phone raised to his ear. Calling Nikolai, I’m sure.

But I’m free of him.

I wait a few stops before getting off the subway and hurrying to the street above. My father’s house is farther away now, and I have no choice but to go down to a different subway station and take another train back to where he lives. All in all, it takes me about an hour. Nikolai will know I’m gone by now.

I just need to talk to my father first, and then I’ll return with Nikolai when he inevitably finds me.

My father’s apartment is in a large, Gothic-looking building. The gargoyles above always creeped me out as a child. When my mother and I left this place in the middle of the night five years ago, I remember staring at those gargoyles as we went. Theystared back at me, almost judging me for choosing my mom over my father.

Now, they’re judging me again.

I hurry up to his apartment and knock on the door. It takes me knocking multiple times for him to answer.

His eyes widen when he sees me. “Ava?” My father looks just as bad as he did the night he killed my mother and kidnapped me. All leathery skin and greasy hair. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why shouldn’t I be? Oh. That’s right. Because you sold me to Nikolai Petrov.”

His shock turns into annoyance. “That’s right. I did. So, you need to go back to him right now.” He starts to shut the door on me, but I slam my hand against it and shove it open, making him stumble back. It’s satisfying seeing him look afraid.

I was afraid, too.

Now, I see my father for who he really is. I’m not afraid of him any longer because he already did the worst thing he could to me.

“I’m not going back to my husband,” I seethe, “until you tell me what happened to my mom.”

He frowns. “Your mom?”

“Yes, my mom!” My voice echoes through the apartment. The reason it’s so echo-y is because there’s barely any furniture inside. “Where is everything?” I ask, the shock distracting me from my purpose.

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