Page 77 of Poisoned Vows

“I’m going to need information from you,” he says, his voice hard and flat. “Account numbers. Names. Men I can rely on and the ones who are so loyal to you that I’m going to have to put them down like dogs so they don’t bite me. You give me what I need, and it’ll hurt less.”

“Fuck you.” I spit at him, the glob of saliva striking his cheek and sliding down his jaw—and I don’t see the fist coming before it strikes my cheekbone almost exactly where the spittle hit him.

“It’ll hurt your sister less, too,” he snarls, hitting me again, and I feel the sharp sunburst of pain where the ring hits bone. “I have a lot of men interested in sampling that. A lot of men who might like to introduce her to all sorts of things. I could make you watch. Would you like that, Vasilev? I heard you always were really protective of her. Got a little crush on someone you shouldn’t?”

“You’re a sick fuck.” I twist my head away from him. “I know all the tactics, Narokov. I wrote the book on some of them myself, so to speak. I can already think of all the things you’re considering doing. So go ahead. I suggest starting with the strap, so you can use the knives on the welts, for maximum pain.”

For a brief moment, he looks taken aback, and that feels like a victory. Not one that won’t come with fresh pain, I’m sure, but a victory nonetheless, and I’ll take what I can get. I don’t regret it, not even when I see him reach for the thin knives instead.

“I think I’ll mark where I want the welts to go with these,” he says thoughtfully. “And then see what kind of patterns the blood makes. Unless, of course, you feel like starting to talk. You can start with the account numbers that have over seven figures in them.”

I don’t talk, of course. Not through the blades carving into my skin, or the leather strap hitting the tender flesh, or the angry fists he applies to me afterward, furious that I’m not breaking. I don’t think he understands that a man like me can’t be broken. I break others. I’ve spent a lifetime preparing for someone to try to give back what I’ve always dished out.

Until the door opens, and two men shove someone inside. A woman. A beautiful woman with honey-blonde hair and terrified blue eyes that instantly land on me—and I think maybe there’s a way to break me after all.

That she’s more of a key than she knows. Not just to the door her father wanted to walk through, but the lock that holds my lips sealed.

Lilliana

Ifeel hopeless, when I’m dragged into the compound.

I hadn’t felt safe, exactly at the penthouse—but I hadn’t thought they’d be able to get to me.Nikolaihad been so sure that they wouldn’t be able to get to me—and yet they did. My father must have done his work meticulously, to know how to get inside Nikolai’s defenses—or there were more traitors in the mix than Nikolai knew.

I suspect it’s the latter.

I’m still in my pajamas, my hair a tangle, feet bare. They didn’t even let me bother with shoes as they hauled me out of the bedroom and out to the waiting car. The only thing that makes any of it better is that they at least didn’t tie me up—but then again, why would they? I’m no threat to any of them. Even armed, I couldn’t have gotten more than a few.

The warehouse is cold, and they march me down the hallway so fast that I almost trip over myself, all the way to a heavy door that two of the men shove open and push me inside of. I see my father out of the corner of my eye, blond and imperious and watching me like a hawk, but I can’t even look at him, because of the horror in front of me.

I can’t believe what I’m looking at.

The man in front of me barely resembles Nikolai, at least when I first look at him. His face is swollen and bruised, his mouth puffy, his lip split and trickling blood down his chin. One of his hands looks as if a few of the fingers have been broken, and I can see purple-black bruising across his bare chest. He’s wearing nothing but a loose pair of sweatpants, and I can see bloody lines across his skin, as if someone has cut him with a knife, welts that look like someone has beaten him.

I told him I wanted nothing to do with him, and I meant it. I told him I couldn’t forgive him, and I meant that too. But I never wanted to see him like this. I never wanted any of this to happen to him.

“See what I do for you?” My father grabs my chin, forcing me to look straight ahead, so I have to see what they’ve done to him. “This man demanded your hand in marriage.Rapedyou. Forced you to be his wife. See how I’ve punished him? He thought he deserved you as a wife, rather than just something to stick his cock in.”

He lets go of my chin, running his fingers through my hair in a twisted mockery of a father reassuring his daughter. “Do you want me to cut it off, Lilliana? Let you crush it under your heel, maybe? Do you want to do it yourself?” He grins at me, reaching for a knife. “You can’t do it just yet. A man can only take so much, and we’ve got steps to take before we get there. But you can hold the knife if you want. Feel the weight of it. Think about how it will feel cutting through his cock.”

“If I had a knife in my hand, I’d use it to stab you,” I hiss, and he pulls it back,tskingas he shakes his head.

“Is that any way to talk to your dear father? The man who gave you everything?”

“Youtookeverything away from me.” I swallow hard, unable to keep looking at Nikolai, at the horrifying sight of his tortured face and body. “My childhood. Any innocence that wasn’t physical. My choices. You took all of it away. You can’t tell me otherwise.”

“It was for us.” His hand strokes over my hair again, and it takes everything in me not to pull away. “Forus, Lilliana. Once I’m in charge, you can have anything you want. You’ll be a rich widow. And then—” His hand presses against the back of my head, fingers curling against my skull. “You’ll be all mine again,sladost’.”

Nikolai jerks against the straps holding him to the chair. “Fuck off, Narokov,” he spits, and my father shakes his head, letting go of me just long enough to step forward in two quick strides and punch Nikolai hard, right in his already swollen mouth.

“Stop it!” I cry out. Nikolai doesn’t make a sound, but from the way he jerks backward and shudders, I can only imagine how much it must have hurt him. “Stop. Please—”

My father turns towards me, his brow furrowed. “So you care about him?” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry for that, Lilliana. I thought you were stronger than that. Tough enough not to let your feelings get involved. If anything, I thought this would be a gift to you. Something to show you how I’ve thought of you even while you were being ruined by this brute. It’s a shame I had to do it this way. I would have rather you stayed with me, untouched, untilIdecided when it was the right time to teach you myself. But there really was no choice. And now you don’t appreciate what I’ve done for you.” He clicks his tongue again. “Maybe some correction is in order for you, too.”

Nikolai lets out a strangled roar, jerking against the straps again. “You fucking bastard,” he snarls. “Your own daughter? Sick fuck—it’s me you want to hurt. So come back here, and make yourself feel like a man by picking on someone who can’t fight back.”

He spits out blood, spraying it over my father’s face as he turns back towards Nikolai, another fist landing on Nikolai’s jaw.

“Please,” I whisper again. I don’t have any idea how I want things between Nikolai and me to go, how I see this all turning out, but I know this isn’t it. I know I don’t want to see my father beating him to a pulp.

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