Page 71 of Konstantin
Of course he’d want something from me in return. A man like him always wants more.
I don’t want to tell him anything. But I have to give him something true, something that makes him feel like he’s connecting with me.
Pulling back just enough to stare up at him, I start at the beginning.
“I never met my dad. Not even once. Just knew him from stories my mom told when she was drunk. Which, spoiler alert, was most of the time.” I let out a wry chuckle.
But he doesn’t return my dark sense of humor. His brow tightens instead, and I don’t like to see that look in his eyes, the one that tells me he actually cares.
“She wasn’t a good mother.” I clear my throat. “Alcohol turned to pills. Pills turned to drugs. And I learned pretty fast how to stay quiet and disappear.”
He takes my hand in his, and it would be sweet…if he wasn’t also a psycho killer.
Who’s also got a romantic side, Emilia. You can’t forget that.
“What else?” His question pulls me back.
“She’d hit me sometimes. Maybe not as bad as your dad. Still, it hurt.” My lips lift, soft and strained, shaped by the ache of the memory. “I cried. A lot.”
His palm cups the side of my throat, a thumb tilting my chin up when I glance away. Those deep eyes search mine, and my stomach flips, my heart beating faster. My body drowns in this sense of warmth and affection.
I hate this. It shouldn’t feel this good to have him care. The way he touches me, stares into my eyes, it forces me to continue.
“She’d scream over things I didn’t do just to have a punching bag. And the men she brought home…”
My throat closes, and I have to look away. But he doesn’t let me, holding my jaw prisoner and forcing the eye contact I want to avoid. It’s too much.
“What did they do?” The words escape him like a threat, and a sane person would fear him right now, but I don’t.
He wouldn’t hurt Tessa.
Now, Emilia? She doesn’t stand a chance.
I drag in a long, tired breath. “Some would hit me. Others…tried worse.”
His nostrils flare, jaw clenching.
“Don’t worry. I learned how to fight back. Not always well, but enough to escape.”
“You never should’ve had to, katyonak.” Leaning in, he presses his lips to my forehead, and something cracks open in my chest.
The sting behind my eyes is instant, sharp. I bite it back, but the warmth of him remains like a promise I don’t know how to trust. When he pulls away, his gaze finds mine again—fierce, unwavering, like he’s holding the weight of my past with me and daring me to keep going.
“When things got bad, I’d sneak out. Crash at friends’ houses until whoever she had there left, only to be replaced by someone else the following day.”
His eyes grow lethal, carved from fire and ice. I can feel the heat radiating off him.
“My life was a mess,” I say with a dry laugh, flicking my hand like I’m tossing the truth away before it can sting.
But he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t let up. Just keeps watching, waiting. So I exhale and give him more.
“My mother was arrested a few times, and I thought maybe I’d finally be free of her, but after being sent to foster care, the system dumped me right back into hell. To say I don’t trust the system is an understatement. It wasn’t until I turned fourteen that my brother took me in. He left as soon as he could, but I think…I think he always meant to come back for me once he could take care of us both. He was the only safety I ever knew growing up. When we were kids, he’d stand between me and her, take the beatings so I didn’t have to. He was my shield. My anchor. My rock.”
Konstantin’s face twists into something haunted and raw. He cradles my face in both hands and kisses my cheek. My eyes drift closed, and I soak it in like it’s the only moment that’s ever felt real,like it’s something to treasure.
“Do you know the names of any of the men who hurt you?”
The question stuns me. Of course I can’t tell him that. If he decides to go on a little expedition and find them, he’ll also find Emilia. Can’t have that.
