Page 51 of Capturing Victory

“What are you doing?” she yelled. “Please, just let me go. I don’t want to go.”

He turned to her and without a word slapped her so hard the entire world spun, going black for a few seconds. She felt herself lifted up onto the ledge. With quick, efficient movements she was strapped to his body. She blinked several times, mentally screaming at herself to wake up and fight. She swam her way to the surface, opening her eyes in time to see Ivan back on his feet, a look of horror on his bloody face right before she tipped over the ledge of his high-rise building wrapped in the arms of his enemy.

Chapter Thirty-One

Jaya glared at the man who had spent twelve years protecting her and providing for her. Even once she’d moved away from him and his disciples, learned to fly on her own, she’d still come back to him for advice, for a home. She wiggled her fingers. It was hard to feel at home when she was zip-tied in the place where she had once shared meals and companionship with the man sitting across from her.

Over the past weeks, distance and perspective from this man had brought the realization that she was pretty sure Father was willing to sacrifice her for his vendetta. Now, with her butt and fingers numb from being tied to a chair and her cheek bruised from his rooftop abuse, she was feeling even more certain. She wondered why he hadn’t finished his assault on the rooftop. Why, if he was willing to sacrifice his only adopted daughter to the cause, hadn’t he just killed both her and Ivan when he had the chance?

Because he knew he wouldn’t get away with it? No, Father didn’t care if he lived or died, as long as he took Ivan Vogel with him to hell.

“Because I need to know what you mean to him.” Father answered her question, reading her easily. He’d always done that. In fact, when she’d finally left his compound at the age of seventeen, it had been his suggestion. He’d read her thoughts, known she was no longer happy living among him and the rough, violent adopted men he raised.

He was sitting across from her in his simple home, a home built for calm meditation. He leaned forward, elbows on knees and studied her. He looked greyer than the last time she saw him two years ago, his beard now fully white. He reached for her, ignoring her flinch and pulling her arm forward a little, pushed the sleeve up. It was uncomfortable since her hands were zip-tied behind her back. He tapped a finger against the thick wrist cuff.

“This is pricey, my dear,” he murmured, twisting her wrist around, examining it. He ignored her pained yelp of protest. “And it doesn’t come off, does it? Only a possessive rich bastard would do something like that.” He looked into her eyes, his dark brown ones filled with insane glee. “One very much in love with the woman he’s marked. He also went to tremendous effort, not once, but twice, to have you returned to his care when you managed to escape. I was more than a little surprised after your first attempt that I didn’t find your mangled corpse on that island. Vogel isn’t known for his patience with such antics.”

She narrowed her eyes at his matter-of-fact tone when it came to the possibility of her demise. “I have no idea what you mean. Ivan simply saw the use in having me around.”

He looked sad for a moment and then the look was replaced with resignation. He ran a broad hand over her forehead, smoothing it over her hair and down her ponytail. He leaned forward and kissed her the top of her head then sat back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. He studied her critically for a moment.

“And just like that my enemy steals your loyalty,” he said coolly.

“Maybe you would still have my loyalty if I ever had yours,” she cried out, unable to hide the bitterness from her voice. “I know why I’m here, I know what you intend.”

“And what is that?” he asked, his dark eyes glinting viciously.

“You’re going to use me to get to Ivan, to kill him.” Her breath caught as she thought of her lover dying at the hands of this man. A flash through the years made her realize how very little she actually owed Father. He didn’t have her loyalty, not really. Yes, he’d fed and clothed her in her early years, but he’d demanded so much more in return. That wasn’t how relationships worked. Family and love wasn’t a transaction. It was caring about the safety, health and comfort of the other person, like Ivan’s care for her.

“Do you have any idea what that man has done to me?” Father asked, in a final attempt to turn her back to his side. Back to the seething hatred he’d carried with him for decades. She understood the need to have her on his side. And this is probably why he’d taken her from Ivan’s penthouse, rather than used her as a shield while murdering Ivan. If he could turn Jaya against Ivan before killing him, then the death of his enemy would be that much sweeter.

“You’re finally going to tell me?” she asked quietly. “After all of these years, all the chances you had to tell me why you wanted us to hate this anonymous enemy of yours, now you’ll give up the goods?”

“Yes, my dear,” Father said, nodding. “You deserve the truth.”

“Too late, I already know,” she said derisively.

His mouth dropped open and he stared at her in shock. “He knows who I am?” he sounded almost impressed, as though he’d been recognized by a rock star.

“No,” she snorted. “Of course not, you’ve been very good at hiding yourself from both him and us, your loyal foundlings. No, I figured it out on my own. You see, Ivan is less reticent about discussing his past. I put two and two together.”

“And came up with what?” Father snarled.

“He murdered your family,” she said unemotionally. “He hunted them down and killed them one at a time. If I had to guess, he probably killed your wife and kids.”

He moved so fast, she didn’t have a chance to get out of the way, couldn’t even if she wanted to since she was tied down. He slapped her across the face, first one side and then the other. Her head rocked back and her ears rang. He gripped her jaw and dragged her forward in the seat, his fingers biting into her cheeks. She felt the tender skin on the inside of her mouth cut into her molars and winced. He leaned in so close she thought for a second, with her now scrambled senses, that he was about to kiss her.

“He murdered my wife,” he snarled, spit flying from his lips to land on hers. “Strangled her in her bed and then cut out her heart, left her for me to find. Then he went down the hall to my kids’ rooms and killed them too. He showed no mercy, not even for my babies. I was only following orders, was only a soldier back then. It wasn’t my fault his family was killed, yet he didn’t care. He just… killed them all.”

Her heart broke for him, broke for the man that he used to be, the man that found his family viciously murdered. But it also broke for the fourteen-year-old boy who returned to his village after hearing rumours of a massacre, discovering his family missing and then digging up a mass grave to find them. Though horrifically unfair, unjustified and awful, she understood why a young Ivan had savagely turned against the soldiers and their families. He was too young to deal with the horror of the situation, the sadness and emotions ripping him apart. He was a youth with knowledge of weapons and warfare and he turned that knowledge against the people that had hurt him. His youthful vengeance shattered the lives of dozens and shaped Ivan Vogel into the man he became, a deadly arms dealer with a reputation for ruthlessness. Father released her jaw and stood.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He turned his back to her and dipped his head in a nod. “Nothing will bring her… them back.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “Nothing will, but there is more to live for than hate, Father.”

He turned when she said his name, responding to the softness in her voice. His gaze was remote, as though he’d already made a decision. But then, he’d made the decision years ago when he’d pulled the trigger on Ivan’s family. Everything after was just a series of domino events related to that single event.

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