Page 23 of Twisted Embrace

“You need to understand that whether or not you betrayed your friend, you are the reason she’s lying in that hospital bed.”

Her eyes reflected pain and horror from what I was saying. I kept my hold firm, digging my fingers in with enough pressure her throat was tightening. Maybe now she understood that I held her life in my hands. With a quick snap of my wrist, I could easily break her neck.

She managed to nod, expressing understanding. Then I released her. She placed her hands around her own throat, coughing as fear replaced her anger.

“I didn’t do anything. Why won’t you believe me?”

“Because there is no other way that the Russians could have known where the baby shower was being held. None.”

“Don’t you think one of your men might have betrayed you?”

That was entirely possible, but I wasn’t going to tell her that and my knowledge about her identity prevented any other line of thinking.

D’Artagnan had landed forty minutes before, on his way to the hospital. He’d sounded cold, emotionless. I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to be certain of her guilt or lack thereof before returning to the hospital. He deserved answers.

“Have you heard anything about Lucia’s condition?”

“What the fuck do you care, Joy? You caused this.”

She finally flew off the handle, lunging toward me. “I did no such thing, you son of a bitch.”

Perhaps another tactic was needed. “Are you certain about your parents?”

As soon as I asked the odd question, the flash in her eyes told me that she’d questioned whether they were her real parents at least once.

“What do you mean certain?”

Yes, she was definitely hiding something. She suddenly couldn’t look me in the eyes at all. I threw back the rest of the bourbon, placing the glass on the table. There were various methods of dealing with those I needed to gain information from, but this was an entirely different situation than I was used to. I’d all but promised Igor that I’d take care of his poor helpless daughter, even if I hadn’t known what he’d been asking. He hadn’t wanted her to be a part of the cruel life he’d been born into.

Granted, I was speculating, but his dying eyes had reflected the kind of pain and guilt that couldn’t be faked. I’d seen that firsthand over the last several months within my own family.

Could I honor the promise I’d made to him? I wasn’t a good man by anyone’s standards. I had no understanding of what it would take to change my methods or my thinking, but my gut feeling was shifting into an entirely different level of knowledge and understanding.

It was entirely possible that she was another victim.

A part of me wanted to believe in her innocence. Another shocker. I’d had several of them throughout the day. However, I had to remain neutral for a little while longer. Often the best way of flushing out a traitor was by the use of the truth. My abusive father had taught me that many years before when he’d known I’d lied about stealing money from his office.

The truth had been proven by the security camera located in his office. The punishment for my lies had been scars I wore on my back to this day, burns from his favorite fireplace poker. The pain hadn’t been as terrible as the stench of seared flesh.

Yes, I wanted to believe her because if she was lying, the punishment would need to be harsh.

“You were born Sasha Petrov. You were taken in by the Levins right after your birth where you were raised as their biological daughter. Your real father is Igor Petrov, brother to the current New York Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, Boris Petrov. The situation between brothers became estranged several years ago for reasons I wasn’t privy to. Your father died asking you to be protected.”

She turned slightly, her mouth pursed and her breathing rapid. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, Joy, it is.”

“How the fuck would you know that?”

“Because your father begged me to take care of his daughter seconds before I put a bullet in his head. Another Russian pig mentioned your name, filling in the blanks before I sent him straight to hell.”

I’d seen several emotions running through her over the past few hours but the sadness and confusion wearing on her lovely face was unreadable.

“That’s why,” she whispered, more to herself than to me.

“That’s why what?”

Her mouth twisted, her hand trembling as she placed her fingers across her mouth.

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