“Get out,” Malek says, and I look up to find he’s entered the room. He’s changed clothes and his face is freshly shaven. He doused himself in aftershave too. Did he go back to my house to shower and change? No. Surely Cassian will have men there.
 
 Why do I keep thinking Cassian will come for me? Willsave me? Why would he? He thinks I betrayed him. Last I saw him he was furious. Besides, Michael paid what he owed. I’m no longer collateral. I’m not his problem anymore.
 
 Rami and the other soldier leave, and Malek turns the chair around, so the back is to me and straddles it. I don’t know why I hate that he does this. When his gaze moves over me, I remember I’m naked. Remember he’d stripped me naked in front of those men. Told them to have a good look.
 
 I draw my arms across myself and when he shifts his gaze to mine, I make myself meet it. Make myself hold it. Seeing the scratches at least makes me feel better. I hurt him, even if it’s just a few stupid scratches.
 
 “You may look like her, but I see too much of Alaric in you,” he says as if we were just talking. “Your mother had a purity you lack.”
 
 “I won’t agree to what you want,” I say, ignoring his comment. “No matter what.”
 
 “We’ll see, I guess.”
 
 “Kidnapping me, taking me from Cassian Trevino, that was stupid. You think he’ll just let me go?” I ask, bluffing, because he doesn’t know what happened between Cassian and I. He doesn’t know that Cassian was sending me away.
 
 “Hm,” he says, picking something out from under his fingernail. “Do I look worried to you?” he asks casually, and no, he doesn’t. Not at all. He looks like a man with time at his disposal. “I’m going to tell you a story,” he continues before I have to answer.
 
 “I don’t want to hear any stories.”
 
 “You’ll want to hear this one. It’s about your mother.”
 
 That makes me pause.
 
 “About how I loved her. Yes, me, Allegra.” He sets a hand across his heart. Or where his heart would be if he had one. “I loved your mother from the moment I saw her. Well, from the moment I heard her music. You didn’t know that, did you?”
 
 I don’t respond.
 
 “Shy thing she was. I would have given her everything. I would have if your father hadn’t plucked her from my hand.”
 
 “If you loved her, how could you kill her son? How can you do this to me?”
 
 His face twists. “Michael didn’t have any of your mother in him. He was his father’s son through and through. Except where it came to brains. There I don’t know what the fuck happened. Hell, maybe Sarah fucked the gardener. Who the fuck knows?”
 
 “Do you hear yourself? I don’t believe you loved her, Malek. I believe you hated her.”
 
 And it was so easy. Just a whisper here, a whisper there.
 
 Why do those words keep repeating? I watch Malek, really watch him.
 
 “Now if the Maestro had been his father, or yours for that matter, just imagine the talent in those hands. It would be something. But your father destroyed anything good in her.”
 
 “They weren’t lovers,” I say, I don’t know why.
 
 “Oh, I know that. They loved each other, but they weren’t lovers. To men like your father, of course, love is fucking. Always. He never did have any art in him.”
 
 “And you do?”
 
 His eyes narrow to slits. “Take care with your words, Allegra.”
 
 “You hated them both.”
 
 “I hated him. With my whole heart.”
 
 “Because my mother fell in love with him,” I say, knowing I shouldn’t push him, but unable to help myself.
 
 His lip curls. “No, not love. She was young, and he could be charming, dazzling even, to a girl like her. Let’s be honest here, if she didn’t have that talent, well, she’d be considered trash. But she was unique, and he wanted what she was. Wanted to own her. Wanted to make everyone jealous.”
 
 “I don’t think he cared what anyone thought.”