Page 164 of His Forced Bride
"You challenged my marriage in court?"
I ask, more out of my own curiosity. "Why?"
"He's brainwashed you,kotyonok."
Reaching out, she tries to touch me, but I stiffen.
Her fingers feel cold against my skin, and madness burns in her eyes.
She's gone completely insane.
The need to punish my father for casting her out has made her lose her mind.
"You poisoned Alina." I swallow bile as it rises.
It's been less than ten minutes, and I have to survive this until my phone rings with a call from Yuri.
"I provided motivation for you to make better decisions. Your friend will recover completely. I ensured the dosage was carefully calculated, just enough suffering to demonstrate what happens when you continue defying me."
My hands curl into fists. She has no moral boundaries left at all.
Anyone who stands between her and her goals becomes expendable, their pain merely a tool for manipulation.
I wonder if this is the woman Batya married and fell in love with.
Did she hide her evil black heart from him too and when he discovered it, that's when he got rid of her?
"And the attacks on my showroom? The warehouse fire?"
"Pressure tactics designed to prove your husband couldn't protect you or your assets."
She moves to the windows, gazing out at St. Petersburg.
"But you inherited your father's stubbornness. You had to learn through suffering that opposing me accomplishes nothing."
I follow her toward the glass, noting that we stand thirty floors above the street.
A fall from this height would kill instantly.
One tiny push from her balcony and I'd be free of her.
That black thought makes me shudder and stop far away enough that I can't touch her.
I won't be like her.
"You underestimated Yuri."
"Did I? Your husband possesses intelligence and ruthlessness, certainly. But he remains predictable in his responses. Men like him always choose violence first, strategy second. That makes them easy to manipulate once you understand their patterns."
She's wrong about him, but I don't correct her mistake.
Arrogance will serve my purposes when this conversation reaches its inevitable conclusion.
"What happens now?" I ask.
"You've confessed to multiple murders. Do you expect gratitude for destroying my life in order to save it?"
"I expect you to acknowledge that everything I've done served your ultimate benefit."
