Page 32 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

I had given her a chance, a chance to come clean. But she hadn't taken it. She had continued to play her part, continued to lie to me, even as I claimed her. The woman who slept next to me had deceived me, and the knowledge of it twisted inside me like a knife.

I couldn't wait any longer.

The door behind me creaked open, and I heard the soft sound of Lily's footsteps as she entered the room. I didn't turn to face her immediately, didn't acknowledge her presence. Instead, I kept my gaze fixed on the window, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I was ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

"Nikita?" Her voice was soft, cautious, like she knew she shouldn't be poking around me. "Wouldn't you like anything to eat?"

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep my voice steady. "Sit down, Lily."

There was a moment of hesitation before I heard the soft rustle of her clothing as she sat on the edge of the bed. I could feel her eyes on me, watching, waiting for an explanation, but I wasn't ready to give it to her. I needed to see her squirm first. I needed to watch her try to lie to me again.

I turned slowly, my gaze locking onto hers. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, searching my face for some clue as to what was going through my mind. I could see the dread there, the worry. Good. She should be worried.

"We need to talk," I said, my voice cold, controlled.

She swallowed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "About what?"

"About you," I replied, stepping closer to the bed. "About your past."

I watched her carefully, noting the way her body tensed ever so slightly at my words. She was good—very good at hiding her reactions—but not good enough. Not with me. I had trained myself to see through lies, to pick apart every subtle movement, every flicker of emotion. And right now, I could see the fear starting to creep into her eyes.

"My past?" she echoed, her voice steady but tight.

"Yes," I said, my gaze never leaving hers. "Tell me about your husband."

I could see the shock flash across her face. She hadn't expected that question. She thought she had hidden it well, that I didn't know. But I did. I knew everything.

"What do you want to know?" she asked, her voice a little too calm.

I stepped closer, my presence looming over her as I stared down at her, watching every tiny movement. "Tell me the truth, Lily. I want to know everything."

She hesitated, her eyes flickering away from mine for just a second, and that was all the confirmation I needed. She was lying to me again, even now, after everything we had been through.

"I've already told you about him," she said quietly, her gaze returning to mine. "He… he died. There's nothing more to say."

I clenched my fists at my sides, the anger boiling just beneath the surface. "I want the truth," I growled, stepping closer until I was standing directly in front of her, towering over her. "Not the version you've been feeding me."

Her breath hitched, and I saw the panic flicker in her eyes. She was trapped, and she knew it. But she still wasn't ready to give in.

"I don't understand," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "What are you asking me?"

I leaned down, my face inches from hers, my voice low and deadly. "I'm asking you why you've been lying to me since the day you walked into my life."

Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as the words hit her. She knew. She knew what I was asking, but she was still trying to figure out how much I knew. Still trying to decide how far she could take this lie before I tore it apart.

"I haven't lied to you," she whispered, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

"Stop," I snapped, my voice sharp and unforgiving. "I know everything, Lily. I know who your husband was."

Her entire body tensed, and I could see the fear flooding her eyes now, the panic she could no longer hide. I straightened, my hands clenched at my sides as I watched her, waiting for her to say something. Anything. But she was silent.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" I continued, my voice a dangerous growl. "You thought you could come into my life, play this role, and I wouldn't figure out who you really are?"

She shook her head, her hands trembling in her lap. "Nikita, I?—"

"Enough," I interrupted, my voice hard. "No more lies."

The silence stretched between us. I could see her trying to find the right words, trying to figure out how to salvage this. But it was too late. I had already seen through her. I had already uncovered the truth.

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