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"Well, I thought I'd?—"

"Or why I'm even upset. It's all just another Tuesday for you, isn't it? Some woman's vendetta. Someone else's grief," I say,interrupting him with the rest of my thoughts as if he wasn't even speaking.

His gaze sharpens, but he says nothing. He can probably read on my face that I've got more to say.

"Because it's all the same to you, isn't it?" I continue. "Born to protect your precious family. I'm just another threat you'll deal with," I say, voice shaking. "You don't even know what you did to me. To her."

Still no reaction.

He then takes a sharp inhale. "So, what was your plan exactly?" he asks, the gun still resting casually on his thigh. "Drug me, tie me up, then what? Was slapping me around supposed to be the revenge for your father? Or were you planning to actually kill me?"

I want to tell him yes. Not so much for him, but for me. As soon as they brought me into the room with him before he woke, I knew I wasn't going to be able to do it. I wanted to be brave, be different than what I've been. Do it for her, but I knew I couldn't, and I assume he knew that too.

"I told them I would, but really I was going to make you confess," I say, deciding to tell the truth. "I was going to record it or something. And then?—"

"And then make me pay. But who would you show the recording to?"

I don't have an answer to that. I never thought past the moment of his confession.

"Who were the other men there that allowed you to take the lead on something that you clearly had never done before?" he continues.

I look down at the ground. The silence stretches between us. My chest tightens with each breath.

"You killed him! You took the only thing she ever had. The only thing that mattered to her."

His eyes narrow slightly. "Who?"

I blink. The words stick in my throat. He finally asks.

"Cosmo," I say, looking directly at him. "Cosmo Kouris."

I see it. For the first time, something flickers across his face. Not guilt. Not remorse.

Recognition.

He leans forward. "And why do you think I killed Cosmo?"

Tears sting my eyes. I glare at him through the blur. "Does it matter?" I say with a shaky voice. "I don't care. Someone told me you did. That you were responsible. And now she's gone too. Because of you."

"Who's she?"

"My mother," I say abruptly. "She killed herself after the news broke about Cosmo's murder."

"She was Isadora Lianou. Maybe you've heard of her. She was beautiful. One of the most famous models." I swallow against the dryness in my throat. "But beauty fades. Models get discarded. Men move on. And she didn't."

Dimitri's gaze softens slightly.

"Pills. Alone. In her fucking room wearing the dress he always liked. She believed he would leave his wife. She waited twenty-five years for him to choose her. She believed his promises until the day you took him off this earth."

A few tears run down my cheeks before I can shove it down. Screw it. I don't give a shit if he sees me like this.

"I was supposed to make it right," I say, voice shaking. "I was supposed to be the one who made you pay. For her."

Dimitri's stare stays stoic.

"That was your plan?" he says. "Drug me. Get me killed, because those men had no intention of letting me leave alive, and that would somehow balance the scales?"

I shrug. "I had nothing. They offered me a way to get to you, and I took it."