Page 131 of Scarlet Angel

I fumble with the door, closing us in. It seals us shut, and I knock a finger against it. It might really be soundproof.

“How could you?”

So much for letting it pass.

“Is Willow alive, too?”

Thanks to raising Lina, I know a helluva a lot better than to tell a woman to pipe down, but it would be lovely if she’d lower her voice.

“I believe so,” I answer honestly, voice hushed.

“And you let me cry? You let me believe she died. You orchestrated a funeral.” She’s practically screaming.

“I’m not actually certain this is soundproof, love.”

“Don’tloveme!”

“I’m going to sit back here.” It’s awkward moving around. It’s a high-ceilinged van, but it’s not tall enough for my frame.

I squeeze into the back corner and study the black leather upholstery, collecting my thoughts.Lead with the important bits.

“I care about Leo. But I should mention, Leo isn’t his real name.” She opens her mouth. “I don’t know what it is.” I hold her gaze so she hears me. “I could find out if I wished. But I don’t. And that’s because it’s best if I never know his identity. It’s best if all those around him—and Willow—believe they are dead and, most importantly, behave as if they are dead.”

“Why?”

“Leo was an arms dealer. Let’s just say if word got out he was a leak that double-crossed some of the most dangerous men—and governments—in the world, he wouldn’t live long. Neither, quite possibly, would his family members.”

“Why take Willow?”

That’s an uncomfortable point. “In the end, he didn’t have a choice. And…with what you know of your family…would she have been safe in your world?”

Those green eyes turn thoughtful, taking me in.

“Are you planning to do the same? Fake your death?”

“It’s not an option for me,” I remind her. “Lina is my family. I can’t… She needs me.”

“Does she? You are such a control freak. You control everything. Fake deaths. I bet you decided to send Willow to her fake grave, didn’t you?”

“You’re yelling, lo—” I wisely bite back the word.

“Has it ever occurred to you that your sister would be better off without you always standing there to clean up her messes? You probably fucked her up by solving every single problem she’s ever had. If she needs money, you give it to her. By controlling every bit of her life—and by the way, filling every need is a form of control—you never let her come into her own. You clipped her wings before she flew.”

Yes. I cocked it up. That’s why I owe her.

Scarlet leans down. She’s holding her head in her hands, and a curtain of silky red covers her.

When she rises, tears streak her face. “I’m sorry. That was harsh. I’m just…”

“We’ve had a rough day, what with being bombed and shot at.”

She sniffles. She looks more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her appear, and while she’s breathtakingly beautiful, the vulnerability is an illusion. She is the personification of enduring strength.

“I won’t leave Lina. As you said, I owe her. Faking a death isn’t an option for me. I’m going to regroup and fight. I’m an Ivanov. We don’t hide.” I swallow and force out what I know to be the truth, but one I don’t want to face. “But you…it’s not the same for you.”

I am a selfish bastard. She’s right about that. If I weren’t, she’d be off the grid.

“Were you ever going to tell me about Willow?”

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