Page 123 of Lies He Told Me (Bratva Crime Syndicate 1)

“I thought you knew. A despicable, murderous monster.” Even as I say the words, they don’t fit. That’s not the Gavril I know. The one who rescued me from Tent City. “What difference does his personal life make?”

Dryden stares me down. “I thought you said you would cooperate.”

I hesitate. What is the downside to telling this man? Even if I get publicly outed, what’s the worst that can happen? People find out I’m not “the Joy Vaknin,” charming public figure, a role I’ve enjoyed for, like, a grand total of a month? Big deal. All I care about is if my mom and I are safe.

Still, I keep tugging on a stray thread on my jeans. I don’t trust this cop. There’s something off and creepily familiar about him.

“And if I cooperate,” I say, “my mom and I will be placed under the Witness Protection Program?”

He holds out a hand. “You have my word.”

As we shake hands, I glimpse something on his wrist, some scar. But then his hands return to where they were, flat on the table.

I exhale.

Alright, it’s now or never.

I’m out of excuses for my fake husband. Other than the one real excuse: despite everything he’s done, I love him.

I love him and I can’t help it and I hate it.

And that’s just it. I can’t help it—but I can help this.

“You know this is going to help a lot of people,” Dryden says, and it’s true.

Do this, and I can ensure that Gavril finally gets the punishment he deserves. I can save people. People like my mother. People like Wanda, like Teddy. People like myself.

It’s the right thing to do. So why does it feel so wrong?

“Fine.” I exhale. “Gavril paid me to be his wife.”

There. It’s done.

Dryden still isn’t taking notes. Maybe he’s not a note-taking guy. Maybe there’s a recording device in here.

“So, you didn’t love him?”

“What?” I ask.

“You heard me.”

Okay, yeah, this isn’t right at all.

“What does that have to do with anything?” My skin is crawling. Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong. I want to get out of here. I don’t like this man and I don’t like this room and I don’t like this building. I want to leave, now.

“We have to cover all our bases.”

“That’s not a base. I think this interview is over. I have nothing more to tell you.”

I rise, step away.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

It’s the voice that gets me, the change in tone that makes my whole body clench with fear. It vibrates with cold menace.

“What do you want from me?”

This man isn’t a regular cop, maybe not even a cop at all. Maybe …

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