Page 83 of Defiled Innocence

This world is shattered and broken.

The bruises.

There are so many bruises on my mother’s shoulders, and chest, and arms. A red handprint on her throat stands out like a huge arrow pointing at the truth.

My father killed my mother.

“Amelia.” Hands rest on my shoulders, and through watery eyes I flip through the photographs.

“You made this all disappear, but Lucas kept it,” I sigh, wiping away the tears before they can fall.

“Lucas wanted something to be able to hold over your father’s head. It was a way to protect you. Everything Lucas did was to protect you.”

“He got into business with the mafia so I wouldn’t find out the truth about my mother’s death?” I look back at the photos. “Because he didn’t want me to know about this?”

“Your brother wanted you safe from this, yes.” Dmitri takes the photos and the file, closing the folder.

“And then he made me marry you?” I push to my feet. “Because that did what? Completed the payment they owed you for covering up the murder?”

He shakes his head. “No. That had nothing to do with it.”

I huff. “And I should believe you? All this time you knew my mother didn’t overdose, that what I’d walked in on was a murder scene and you didn’t tell me.”

“Your brother wanted you never to find out.”

“Yeah? Well, my brother is dead!” I yell at him. “He’s dead. He died and left me here with… with… you!”

“He did what he thought was best for you.”

“He left me to live with the man who murdered my mother. And then he left me to be married to the man who helped cover it up. How was any of that best for me?”

After Mom died, Dad withdrew from me. It wasn’t that he grew meaner, he actually softened a little. But he wasn’t really there, even when he was.

“Lucas tried to make your father let you live with him, but he refused. The only way Lucas could have managed it is if he used this against him.” Dmitri lifts the folder. “But if he’d done that, you would have found out the truth.”

“And marrying you?”

His confidence wanes. “To protect our business arrangement without having to involve you in it.”

Again, I laugh.

“You’re nothing but a criminal who lies and steals and kills.” I look at the door. “Christian.”

“He’s fine.” Dmitri grabs my arm when I start to head out. “He won’t be killed. You have my word.”

I yank out of his grasp.

“Your word doesn’t mean anything to me. Just leave me alone.” I hurry from the room, unsure if I can remain steady if he touches me the way he usually does when I’m upset.

If he holds me, or kisses me, or brushes my hair from my face, I might crumble.

And I can’t.

I can’t depend on him.

I’ve been so stupid letting myself fall into his strength, letting my heart soften to him.

And even dumber for falling in love with him.

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