Page 42 of Twisted Kings

Neither one of us deserved the life we’d endured, but until that man lay six feet under, we would never be free.

Thoughts of revenge consumed me as I walked along the single beach, oblivious to the howling wind. The further I walked, the colder it got. Mrs. O’Malley, the housekeeper who visited daily with food and booze, had mentioned at breakfast that snow was on the way. She’d told Verity and my sister had been chattering non-stop about it all day, full of excitement at the prospect.

We’d waved goodbye to Eden this morning. A car had arrived to take her to her family’s estate near Dublin. She and her cousins were spending Christmas there. I was sad to see her go, but it wasn’t fair to expect her to keep me company indefinitely.

Her presence had provided a useful buffer between me and the guys, however.

Kyril acted like his usual self, overprotective and possessive, although he’d not made any attempt to get into my pants since our arrival, which surprised and frustrated me in equal measure. I was determined to put distance between us, but at the same time, I wanted him.A lot. It seemed like my libido hadn’t got the message the man was an asshole.

Even though he’d rescued me from a life of servitude and misery, it was ridiculous to pretend we had a future together. His father would recall him home soon, and before long, he’d be taking over the mantle ofbratva Pakhan. There was no room in his life for me, a fugitive Italian mafia princess with a psychotic father.

Landon continued to mope around like a kicked puppy. He’d tried talking to me a few times, but I shut him down. Again, what was the point? His life and mine were worlds apart. We had no common ground, even if he’d harbored delusions about a long-term relationship with me.

Sure, he was hot.

Very hot.

But hot didn’t mean we were compatible in other areas. I doubted his parents would ever accept me, not with my naked boobs and ass plastered all over the internet. Model daughter-in-law, I was not.

Milo spent most of his time glued to a computer screen, trying to track my father down. The only times I saw him were at night when I woke up and he was there, in my bed, like a stalker. We hadn’t talked much, but I found his presence comforting. Unlike the other assholes, he didn’t push for anything, and I appreciated that.

And as for Dario, well, he’d become Verity’s new best friend. My sister loved him. He spent hours with her, introducing her to new TV shows, playing board games, and talking to her. He’deven let her paint his nails a vile shade of pink, much to Eden’s amusement.

The only time he left her was when I was there. It felt like we’d negotiated a shared custody arrangement - without the expensive lawyers.

Not that I was complaining. While Verity had settled in wonderfully, having so much freedom was new to her. For a 12-year-old, she was very naïve and fearless. Someone needed to keep a close eye on her, and for now, my head was way too messed up to be there for her.

As much as I hated to admit it, the way he cared for Verity had gone a long way toward healing some of my emotional wounds. We weren’t friends. Not even close. But I no longer wanted to murder him.

Cassian remained AWOL. I’d deliberately avoided looking online, but Eden had told me the tabloids were still tearing me apart, calling me everything from a whore to a home wrecker, and offering ridiculous sums of money to anyone with information on who I was.

Camilla, Cassian’s ex-fiancée, had apparently appeared on several chat shows, denouncing Cassian and cementing her status as the poor victim of a horrible betrayal. I would have been more sympathetic if I hadn’t known the engagement was a sham.

Still, she seemed determined to milk that shit for all it was worth. And the press were loving every minute of it.

I tried not to think about Cassian, but inevitably he crept into my thoughts. Did he hate me still? I assumed so. None of the guys had mentioned him, however. Milo and he still communicated, but Milo didn’t discuss him with me and I didn’t ask.

Rain sluiced down, soaking through the coat Eden left for me. My cheeks stung with every gust of icy wind, but it felt good tobe outdoors. Not ready to go back to the house yet, I trudged on, heading for a pile of rocks in the distance.

When I reached the end of the beach and could walk no further, I moved back under the shelter of the cliff and leaned against a boulder, glad to be out of the bitter wind.

I stood for a while, watching the waves crash over the rocks. The water was almost as chaotic as the thoughts in my head. I needed a plan, but nothing sprang to mind.

Traveling on my current passport would see me captured almost immediately. If I wanted to travel back to Europe, I needed a new ID. Dad was probably scrambling to figure out who attacked the estate. It wouldn’t take him long to figure things out.

He had to know about Kyril. Torrance would have revealed we knew each other after the botched attempt to pull Roberto Pesci in for questioning. Whether he was aware Kyril and I were lovers was a whole other question.

Or rather,werelovers.

Not anymore.

Sleeping with him - or any of them - was too confusing. And then there was the niggling worry I might be pregnant. If I was pregnant, Kyril couldn’t find out. He’d go all caveman and demand I kept it. After all, any baby he fathered would potentially become a future Russian mafia heir. Sure, we weren’t officially a couple, and his father probably had a future bride lined up for him, but illegitimate kids still counted in the line of succession.

It had always been the way. The first male heir, regardless of legitimacy, could claim the crown. And as I knew all too well, female children were equally valuable.

There was no way I’d willingly hand over a child to become a mafia prince or princess. Not after the life I’d endured. So if I was pregnant, my only option was to seek a termination. Andgiven we were stuck in rural Ireland where reproductive rights were stuck in the 1950s, that would be tricky.

But since it was almost the Christmas holidays, I decided to do what I did best: ignore the problem in the hope it went away.

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