Page 79 of Split

I glance up at Roman, realizing that he’s looking in the opposite direction, making eye contact with someone across the room.Knox. I follow his gaze, and sure enough, Mr. Hyde is weaving his way through the crowd, already bound for us.

I turn my head back around right as my father approaches, my heart stuttering a beat.

“Eliza,” he breathes, feigning fondness as he reaches for my hands. His fingers are cold as he grips onto mine, and I suppress a shiver as he pulls me in and presses a disingenuous kiss to my cheek. “I’ve missed you,” he says as he pulls back, giving me a once-over. “You look…healthy.”

He’s calling me fat.

My cheeks flame and an arm drapes over my shoulder, tucking my body in against a very familiar broad frame. “She’s finally getting proper nutrition. Will be good for bearing the Volkov heirs.”

I snap my head up to gape at Knox, who just smirks and gives me a subtle wink.

Straightening the lapels of his expensive black jacket, my father clears his throat to demand our attention. “I’d like to speak with you,” he remarks. “In private.”

“Of course,” I say, forcing a smile as I slip into the role I’ll be playing this evening. The first step of the plan is getting him alone, so it’s officially in motion. “We can go to the study,” I suggest, gesturing for the twins to join me as I turn to leave.

My father leans in close, setting a hand on my arm and pressing his lips into a thin line. “I was hoping it’d be just the two of us,” he murmurs.

“Anything we speak about will be shared with my husbands, so they might as well come too,” I reply dismissively.

I don’t miss the way he flinches when I sayhusbands, plural.

Before he can object again, I pivot on a heel and start for the doors, my father hurriedly waving for Vlad to follow him as he trails after me and the twins.

The sounds of revelry spill out from the ballroom into the adjoining corridor as we turn down it, my heels clicking against the marble tile as I lead the way to the study. My heart pounds harder with every step, my mind racing.

Can I really go through with this?

I suppose I won’t know until it comes time to plunge the knife into my father’s chest.

The five of us enter the study and Roman closes the doors to seal us inside, the tension in the room ramping up with the snick of the latch. I pace over to the sofas near the fire, gesturing for my father to take a seat, while Knox and Vlad linger near the door and Roman takes up a post at the bar cart.

“So the rumors are true?” my father questions, his upper lip curling in disgust as his eyes flicker back and forth between my men. “You’re withbothof them?”

“My marriage is none of your concern,” I say dryly, easing down to sit on the edge of the sofa opposite him. “It stopped being your business when you decided alliances were more important than your only child’s happiness.”

“That was clearly a mistake,” he grinds out. “Marriage vows are sacred, and your husband’s willingness to whore you out to his brother only proves that he isn’t a man of his word.”

“And neither are you, it seems,” Roman cuts in, striding over with a glass of vodka in hand. “I was under the impression I was getting a docile,virginbride.”

“You probably want a refund then, huh?” I ask with a titter of amusement, glancing up at him.

The corner of his mouth lifts as he gazes back at me. “I still think I got the better end of the deal,wife.”

My heart skips a beat and I turn back to my father, finding him staring at the scars marring my left bicep, on full display in my strapless gown. “Something you want to say?” I probe.

His eyes bounce back up to mine. “You should really take advantage of sleeves,” he mutters. “That thing is unsightly.”

“Right, you don’t like looking at it because it reminds you of the pain of losing my mother,” I muse.

The muscle in his jaw feathers as he nods.

I cock my head. “Or is it because it reminds you of your own failure?”

His brows pinch together, lips screwing up in a scowl. “What are you talking about?”

I heave a sigh, rising to my feet and pacing toward the bookshelves. “It’s funny that you should mention the sanctity of marriage vows. What is it that they say, again?” My heels click against the floor as I walk along the row of shelves, reaching out to trail my fingers over the spines of the books resting upon them. “To have and to hold, for better, for worse… for richer, for poorer… in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish… “ I recite, pausing as I reach the end of the row. “Till death do you part.”

“What are you going on about?” my father scoffs, his upper lip curling in scorn as I whip back around to face him.

---