"I… I didn't know," I whispered, my voice trembling. My legs felt weak, and I sank into the nearest chair, my heart pounding in my chest. "I swear to you, Nikita, I didn't know any of this."
His jaw tightened, his fists clenched at his sides. For a moment, I thought he was going to lash out, but he stayed rooted in place, his eyes locked onto mine.
"Didn't know?" he repeated, his voice low, cold. "You've been chasing me for years, Lily. You've lied to me, betrayed me—hell, you almost destroyed everything I've built. And now, after all that, you're telling me you didn't know?"
"I didn't!" I cried, the words spilling out of me before I could stop them. "I thought… I thought you were the one responsible for Alexei's death. I thought—" I swallowed hard, the guilt crashing down on me like a tidal wave. "I thought you were the one who destroyed everything."
"And now you find out it was your father," Nikita growled, his eyes narrowing. "The man who was supposed to protect you. The man who used you."
I flinched at his words, the truth of them hitting me like a punch to the gut. He was right. My father, the man who was supposed to love and protect me, had used me as a tool in his war. He had manipulated me, fed me lies, and turned me into a weapon against Nikita.
My stomach churned with nausea, my hands trembling as I buried my face in them. How could I have been so blind? How could I have not seen it?
Mikhail cleared his throat, cutting through the heavy silence. "It's all in the records," he said quietly. "The payments, the connections. Your father orchestrated everything—he was tied to Alexei's downfall from the beginning. He wanted Nikita out of the way, and when Alexei failed, he used Lily to finish the job."
"I was just a tool," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "He used me."
Nikita took a step closer, his gaze still locked onto mine, his fury simmering beneath the surface. "And now what?" he demanded, his voice harsh. "Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do, Lily?"
"I don't know," I admitted, my voice cracking. "I don't know what to do."
Nikita's jaw clenched, his eyes darkening. "I'll tell you what you're going to do," he said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "You're going to confront your father. You're going to get answers. And then—" He broke off, his eyes flashing with something darker, more dangerous. "Then I'll decide what happens to him."
Confront my father? Could I even face him, knowing what he had done?
But I knew I didn't have a choice. I had to confront him. I had to hear the truth from his mouth. I had to understand what had happened and why, once and for all.
"I'll go," I whispered, my voice shaky but resolute. "I'll confront him."
Nikita's eyes softened for a brief moment, but then the hard edge returned. "I'm coming with you," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
My breath hitched in my throat. I wanted to refuse, to tell him that this was something I needed to do on my own, but I knew it would be pointless. Nikita wasn't going to let me face my father alone. Not after everything. Not when the betrayal ran so deep.
"Fine," I whispered, nodding. "We'll go together."
Mikhail, who had been standing silently by the door, stepped forward, his expression grim. "You need to be careful, Lily," he warned. "Your father isn't just any man. He's dangerous. He'll try to manipulate you again if he thinks he's losing control."
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling on my chest. "I know," I said quietly. "But I have to do this."
Mikhail nodded, his eyes flicking to Nikita before settling back on me. "I'll make the arrangements," he said. "But just remember—this isn't just about revenge anymore. It's about survival."
As Mikhail left the room, the silence between Nikita and me grew heavier, more charged. I could feel his anger, his need for control simmering beneath the surface. And I knew that confronting my father wasn't just about answers—it was about justice. For Nikita, for Alexei, and for me.
Nikita's eyes never left mine, his gaze hard and unrelenting.
"You realize," he said quietly, his voice thick with barely contained rage, "that I may not let your father live through this."
I shivered at his words, the cold truth of them settling deep in my bones. I had no illusions about what Nikita was capable of. If he wanted my father dead, nothing would stop him.
"I know," I whispered. "But I need to hear the truth from him. I need to hear it with my own ears."
Nikita's jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. Instead, he nodded, his gaze still burning into mine.
"Then we leave tomorrow."
CHAPTER 17
Lily