Page 97 of 10 Days to Ruin

Ariel steps forward. “Sasha, this is my mom. Mom, this is?—”

“Ozerov.” Belle sets the bags down slowly.

I wipe grease on my slacks before offering a hand. “Mrs. Makris.”

“It’s Ward.” She ignores my hand and turns to her daughter instead. “Ari, the new lock on the basement door isn’t latching. Could you…?”

Ariel throws me a warning look before vanishing down the hall.

Belle waits until her footsteps fade. Then she whirls on me.

“I know who you are.” Her stare could flay skin.

“I assure you you don’t.” I lean against the wall, hands in my pockets, watching this five-foot nothing woman square up against a man who’s killed hundreds without a drop of fear in her eyes.

I admire her fire. Makes sense that she’s Ariel’s mother.

“I know enough.” Her knuckles whiten around her keys, as if she’s considering gutting me with them. “More importantly, I know better, Mr. Ozerov. I’ve seen this before. The diamond cufflinks. The tailor-made charm. Iknowyou.”

The fraught tension in her face—that must be Leander’s doing, as sure as the scars on my throat and back were left there by my father’s hand. It ignites something in my chest that wishes it could reach back in time and erase this proud woman’s suffering.

“I’m not here for anything like that, Ms. Ward. I promise.”

Fuck me, what a funny thing to say. Just six days ago, that would’ve been a bold-faced lie. What is it now? A whole truth? Part of one? I don’t know. Fucking hell, I just don’t know.

Belle’s eyes narrow. “You’re good at this. Better than Leander ever was. You almost sound human when you lie.”

I push off the wall. She doesn’t flinch. “I don’t lie.”

“No? Then tell me why a man like you wants a life with her.”

Because your ex-husband’s shipping routes could end a war before it starts.That’s the easy answer, the business answer. It dies in my throat.

Instead, I see Ari in the library—cheeks flushed, mouth bruised from mine, whispering,This doesn’t mean I like youeven as her body arched closer.

A twitch ripples through my left hand. I crush it against my thigh.

Belle catches the movement. Always watching. Head tilting to the side in curiosity, she asks, “You don’t know, do you?”

“Your daughter’s stubborn,” I growl. “Annoying. Reckless with her sarcasm and her…everything.” The words come too fast, too raw. I clench my teeth, but the dam’s cracked. “But when she looks at me?” My thumb grazes the scar at my throat. “She doesn’t see a monster.”

Belle stills. “And what does she see? No, better question: what do you see when you look at her?”

The basement door creaks downstairs. Ari’s muffled curse floats up. “Stupid effing latch?—”

Belle doesn’t look away from me.

“A mirror,” I answer quietly.

Her breath hitches. For the first time since she saw me in her home, her armor splinters—grief pooling in the cracks.

Then footsteps creak up the basement staircase, followed by Ariel’s panting breath. The strain goes rushing out of the moment.

Belle grabs my wrist, her grip surprisingly strong. “If you hurt her?—”

“I’ll break myself first.”

Yakov’s voice in my head:Too damn honest. Too damn weak.

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