Page 47 of Captured By the Russian Wolf

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. "He was my husband," I whispered, my voice trembling. "He was your son-in-law. How could you use him like that?"

Nicholas's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it. Only cold, calculated cruelty. "Because Alexei was a fool. He was weak, and I don't tolerate weakness in my business. He became a liability, and I dealt with him the way I deal with all liabilities."

I couldn't breathe. My father's words cut through me like a blade, each one more devastating than the last. Alexei hadn'tbeen a traitor. He hadn't been a villain. He had been a pawn—just like me.

"You used me," I whispered, my voice breaking. "You used me to get revenge on Nikita. You let me hate him, let me believe he was the one responsible."

Nicholas's eyes flicked to Nikita, and I could see the cold calculation in his gaze. "You were useful to me, Lily," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "You did exactly what I needed you to do. You became obsessed with your revenge, and it kept you out of my way."

I felt sick. The man standing in front of me wasn't just a distant father who hadn't cared about me. He was a monster. A man who had manipulated me, destroyed my life, and turned me into a weapon for his own gain.

"You let me tear myself apart for years," I whispered, my voice shaking. "You let me believe that Alexei's death was my fault, that I didn't protect him, that I wasn't there for him when he needed me most. All the while, you were the one who destroyed everything."

Nicholas's cold smile never wavered. "Alexei was weak, Lily. He thought he could outplay me. He thought he could take over my empire, undermine my position, all while keeping you in the dark. He was a liability."

My heart clenched. The Alexei I had known—the man I had loved—had never been a schemer, never been interested in power. But what if I had been wrong? What if I never truly knew him? Or had my father twisted everything, manipulated the situation so perfectly that I couldn't see the truth even now?

"He didn't betray you," I murmured, shaking my head, not quite believing the story my father was spinning. "He would never have tried to take over your empire."

Nicholas's eyes gleamed with something cruel, something calculating. "Alexei was never as noble as you like to think, Lily.He knew what he was getting into when he married into this family. He made his choice, and when that choice didn't align with my plans, he had to be dealt with."

Nikita stepped forward then, his presence a storm of barely contained rage, his fists clenched at his sides. The anger radiating off him was palpable, a force unto itself.

"You manipulated her," he growled, his voice low and deadly. "You set her on a path of revenge, knowing she would come after me. You used your own daughter to cover your tracks."

My father's expression didn't change. If anything, his gaze hardened, and the smile on his lips twisted into something more sinister. "And it worked, didn't it?" he said, his tone almost mocking. "She came after you, just like I planned. Kept you distracted. Kept you occupied. She did her part."

I felt the ground fall out from under me. The realization that my entire life, my entire mission, had been orchestrated by my own father hit me like a physical blow. All those years of planning, the hatred I had nursed toward Nikita, the drive for revenge that had consumed me—it had all been for nothing. Worse than nothing. It had been part of my father's twisted game.

"Why?" I choked out, my voice breaking. "Why did you hate me so much? Why did you do this to me?"

Nicholas's cold eyes flicked over me, his lips curling into a sneer. "You were always so naive, Lily. Always so weak. You were never part of the plan. You were just a... complication. Something I had to manage." His gaze darkened, and I saw something cold and brutal in his eyes, something that made my blood run cold. "Your mother was supposed to be my heir, my partner in this empire. But she failed me. And when she died, I thought maybe you could take her place. But you were always too soft. Too attached to people like Alexei. Too blind to see the real game."

I staggered back, my breath catching in my throat. He had never seen me as his daughter. I was nothing but a replacement for my mother—a replacement that had failed him. I wasn't even worth considering beyond that.

Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of him. I would not break down here. Not now.

"You never cared about me," I whispered, my voice thick with disbelief and hurt. "You never even cared about Alexei. This was all just… a game to you."

"Of course it was," Nicholas said, his voice dismissive. "Everything is a game, Lily. And I play to win."

I glanced at Nikita, his expression a mask of fury and disgust as he watched my father, his fists clenching and unclenching as if he was barely restraining himself from launching forward and ending this once and for all.

"What now?" Nikita asked, his voice dangerously quiet. "You've confessed to everything. What's your next move?"

My father smirked, his gaze flicking dismissively to Nikita. "I'll continue doing what I've always done, Volkov," he said coldly. "Survive. Adapt. Thrive."

I could feel Nikita's anger radiating off him like heat, but I could also see the calculation in his eyes. He wasn't going to let this slide. Not after everything.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between him and my father, his voice low and dangerous. "You won't survive this time, Donovan. I'm going to make sure of it."

Nicholas's smile faltered for the first time, a flicker of unease crossing his features as Nikita's words sank in. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Nikita grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward until they were face to face.

"You think you're untouchable?" Nikita hissed, his voice a low growl. "You think you can just walk away from this?"

I froze, my breath catching in my throat as I watched the violence that rippled through him. This wasn't just about revenge anymore. This was personal. Deeply, darkly personal.

Nicholas tried to pull back, but Nikita held him firmly in place, his knuckles turning white as he gripped my father's shirt.

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