Page 8 of Witness Protection

It pissed her off that he was still loyal to her father. And she was even angrier that he still showed no interest in her besides duty. Less than twenty-four hours ago she’d watched her father killed before her eyes.

She held her stomach as she recalled the blood.

An ocean of blood.

How should I feel?

She felt like a ticking time bomb. The little girl inside her cried out, desperate and empty, craving her father’s affection. She needed more time to prove herself worthy of his love, but the sands in the hourglass were empty. The woman was angry, angry for the years of control, the growing resentment, and the constant comparisons to the mother she’d never known. Vasily Morenov hadn’t died yesterday, not for her. He died years ago, as soon as she stopped being a child. Her father made her associate being a woman with something dirty, something that made her unlovable.

Any chance to earn his love ended with that one bullet. Had the man with the hard, blue eyes stolen her father’s chance at redemption or given her a gift?

“Do you want to talk?”

“There’s nothing to say,” she said.

“Pretending nothing happened isn’t going to make it go away. What you saw … no one should have to see that. Especially you.”

“Especially me? Why is that, Hawk?”

Did he think she was weak? A delicate flower? Her bitterness seeped to the surface. This wasn’t her, but she couldn’t stop herself.

“Because you’re special.”

Tears welled up in her eyes for the first time. She turned away so he wouldn’t see. Why couldn’t her father love her? What the fuck would it take to make him proud?

“Sophia?”

She shook her head. “Leave me alone. Please.”

Of course, Hawk refused to listen. He tugged her shoulder, spinning her to face him. “Let it out. Your father just died. You’re allowed to grieve.”

“You don’t understand. I feel nothing. How can I grieve for a man who hated me?”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth!”

“He loved you, Sophia. You were all that mattered to him.”

Her sinuses burned as she fought back her emotions. “Bullshit! He cared about money. About control. He had to be the best at everything.”

“You were his printsessa,” he whispered the words.

She shook her head, hot tears running down her cheeks. If he said one more thing, she’d lose it completely. Sophia knew the cold, hard truth, and it hurt more than anything. Her father had been cruel, distant, and made her life miserable.

She wished things had been different, but part of her was happy he was dead.

And that fact broke her heart.

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