Page 257 of Enigma: The Complete Collection
Surprisingly, his words don’t cause any sting. Over the years, I learned what type of man Vladimir is. That’s why I appreciate every day that my uncle saved me from that life.
“If Vladimir weren’t interested in what Col had to offer, why did you come to Ravenshoe? Why were you helping Col?”
“I wasn’t helping Col,” he rebuts, his tone flat and angry. “I came because I wanted to see if Col’s ramblings were true, or if it were just the incessant gibberish of a man past his prime. The instant I saw you, I knew what he said was true. You're identical to our mother in every way.”
“Except my eyes,” I murmur, recalling Col’s taunting words.
“Yes,” he confirms with a nod. “When I saw you, it made me wonder if the other rumors I’d heard circulating were true… the ones about our mother. Col was getting sloppy, taking uncalculated risks. It was the perfect opportunity to finally discover the truth.”
He inhales a big breath that puffs his chest before locking his dark eyes with mine. “I would’ve never let him hurt you, Isabelle. I had no intention of letting him take you. I just wanted to know the truth. I asked family members about our mother all the time. All they said was that she was dead, and that was that.”
A dull ache spreads across my chest. His eyes reflect the pain of a little boy who grew up without a mother.
When I take a step closer to him, Isaac moves into the doorway. “Isabelle.” His tone is a clear warning that I'm breaking our agreement.
I stop pacing and lace my fingers together.
Enrique’s eyes dart between Isaac and me. “On vash zashchitnik.”
My brows furl. My Russian is so poor, I can only understand the first half of his sentence, which was, “He is your,” but I don’t understand the last word he's saying.
“Druzhok.” I gesture my hand to Isaac.
Enrique nods. “On khoroshiy chelovek.”
I smile. “Da. Ochen’ khoroshly chelovek.” I cringe when my pronunciation comes out sounding like a first grader reading words from a Russian translator dictionary.
Enrique swallows as his gaze shifts to Isaac. “I knew using Isabelle as a lure would be the only way I could force Col out of hiding. I unearthed his intentions for her from the two officers who assaulted her during her arrest. Col had a bounty on her head. The only stipulation on the contract was that she had to be brought in alive.”
Isaac steps into the room. “You were the anonymous caller.”
Enrique nods. “Yes, I’d been following Isabelle for a few weeks when I witnessed her arrest.” His lips set into a straight line as his eyes turn to me. “Vladimir may forget you have his blood running through your veins, but I can’t. You're still my family, even if you don’t have the Popov name.”
I scrub a rogue tear off my cheek. “But they didn’t deserve to die for what they did.”
The officers who arrested me were an unfortunate misrepresentation of the men and women who serve our country every day, but that doesn’t warrant their death.
Enrique’s eyes darken as his gaze shifts between Isaac and me. He runs his hand across his brow before his eyes settle on me. “They’re not dead. They had useful resources that kept them alive.”
“Such as?” Isaac’s tone is low, but his stature is still impressive.
“They know who framed Isabelle for murder.”
I inhale a sharp, quick breath. I was under the assumption Col was the person who initiated those false claims.
Before I can reply, four heavily guarded riot officers enter the room. They uncuff Enrique from his bed before hoisting him to his feet. Two additional guards fasten shackles on his ankles and wrists before walking him to the door.
“Where are the officers?” Isaac’s voice is stern yet panicked. “Where did you house them? I need to know who was framing Isabelle.”
Enrique smiles. “V vashey yakhte.”
When Isaac turns to me, wanting me to interpret what he’s saying, I nervously chew on my lower lip. I have no clue what he’s saying.
“In your… ” I fumble out.
“Yakhte,” Enrique repeats.
I shrug, wordlessly advising I don’t understand what he's saying.
