Page 109 of Vengeful Union

The gaze he was keeping on the desk, as if dismissing me, now snaps up to mine. “What?”

“Ivan. Ivan the Russian, loved kids, always liked to play dolls with Bree when he’d come over. I remember him being here. It was right after Ma ‘left.’ Isn’t that convenient?”

He goes quiet, his jaw ticking as he grits his teeth. When he does speak, it’s low and quiet.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I take a step toward the desk, and he doesn’t move a muscle.

This is his home. His office. He’s in his element. And he’s not afraid of me.

The thing is–he should be, because all I can feel right now is white-hot rage.

My brain isn’t working, it’s just adrenaline-filled blood rushing through my veins.

“Admit it.” I spit the words like they’re poison through teeth that are grinding together. “Admit what you did.”

“What right do you have, boyo? What right do you have to come in here accusing me of....” He pauses, rubbing a hand across his face. His expression is blank, but his left eye is twitching, a surefire sign that he’s pissed off.

“I’m accusing you of murdering her.” I’m not about to mince words, not now. Not when the stakes are this high. Not when I have proof.

It’s not proof that will get him arrested. It’s not proof I can use, but it’s proof that I know in my soul to be true, and Ineedhim to admit it. If I don’t hear it from him, I’ll never move past this.

“You don’t understand, Rory. You never have.”

“Explain it to me.” I brace my hands on his desk, staring him down, and to his credit, he doesn’t look away.

I guess he knows that he can’t run from this. As much as some part of me wants to, I can’t either.

“You don’t know what your mother was like. Who she really was.”

“I said, explain it to me.”

His face changes, softens just a bit, like there’s some part of him that still has a heart.

I don’t back down, though, don’t move from my spot with my palms down on his desk, knuckles growing white from the pressure.

“She was a liar, Rory. You know that I can’t tolerate liars. Traitors.”

“What did she lie about?”

He barks out a bitter laugh. “Everything. Said she was fine with what I did for a living. Hell, her da used to be a driver for my da. It’s not like her hands were clean when we married. She knew who I was. She married me anyway.”

“You’re not telling me the whole story.”

“She made friends with a cop, Rory. What would you have me do?”

I grip onto his desk even harder. “Answer my question. Did you kill her?”

“Of course not.” He scoffs, reaching into his desk drawer, likely to get his pipe.

My shoulders relax slightly, my whole body going weak with relief.

Then he brings a pistol out of the desk drawer and points it at my chest.

“It broke my heart to give that order, boyo.”

I slowly stand up straight, and my thoughts are completely silenced by the reality of what he just said.

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