Tears of Betrayal - Page 34

Emotions whirl in my chest, and then a new one joins the chaos. Affection.

“Before you start chasing and I start running,” I say, forcing a smile to my lips, “can I…” I hesitate for a moment, but because it’s the one thing I need most, I push through, “will you just hold me for a minute.”

Demitri doesn’t hesitate and tugs me against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around me, and then I feel his breaths warming the top of my head.

Slowly, I turn my cheek, and then I listen to his steady heartbeat.

I shove all my fear, my confusion, and my uncertain feelings for Demitri aside and let the sorrow pour back into my heart.

For one minute, I allow myself to be weak.

I close my eyes, and grabbing hold of his sides, I fist the fabric of his shirt.

Flashes of my past begin to bombard me.

Me running to Dad and him catching me.

Dad giving me a proud smile.

Dad hugging me whenever we had to say goodbye.

I’m only twenty-three, and I’ve lost my father, and my mother has no memory of me. I have no other family besides Yuri.

I’m practically alone.

I feel alone.

And lost.

Before the tears come, I pull away from Demitri, but he takes one look at my face then yanks me back to him. It’s all it takes for my walls to crumble to dust at my feet.

Just like my life has.

Chapter 15

ARIANA

The past two days, I’ve mostly been living in the memories I have of my father.

The peacefulness of the island has helped, and Demitri hasn’t pushed anything. Instead, he’s been a silent force, always close by.

It’s as if he knows exactly what I need without me having to say a word.

It’s weird but in a good way.

But today, it’s hard getting out of bed. When the sorrow sweeps through me again, I pull the covers over my head.

I was wrong. In hindsight, I knew this was coming. I knew I’d lose Dad, I just didn’t want to face it.

And now he’s gone.

I need to find out when the funeral will be.

The thought pushes me to throw the covers back. Climbing out of bed, I go through my morning routine and then go look for Demitri.

I find him in the kitchen, where he’s leaning back against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” I say, my voice sounding like I’ve lived a hundred years.

“Morning.” I feel his eyes on me as I pour myself a cup of coffee.

He clears his throat, but before he can say anything, I jump in. “Can you find out when my dad’s funeral will be?”

Slowly, I glance at Demitri, and I see the answer on his face before he says, “It’s tomorrow, but the whole Bratva will be there… as well as the person who wants you dead.”

Lowering my eyes, there’s a weird mixture of anger and grief swirling in my heart. It’s unfair. But I also knew I probably wouldn’t attend Dad’s funeral with me living in the States and him being in Russia. I don’t have the money to travel.

Still, it’s unfair.

Nodding, I take a sip of my coffee.

Demitri reaches for me, and taking hold of my chin, he forces me to look at him. His eyes search mine, then he asks, “How are you holding up?”

I just shrug because it’s not like things are going to get any better. “I’m okay,” I lie. I finish my coffee and rinse the cup out. Wanting to go for my morning walk, I head toward the sliding door, but as I pass the stairs, movement from the second floor catches my eye.

I glance up, and then my feet come to a sudden stop. My mouth dries instantly, and my heart stutters before it begins to beat like crazy.

A man, who I assume is Alexei, slowly comes down the stairs, his movements casual. He has white-blond hair like me and black eyes. Same build as Demitri… but… the danger coming off him in waves hits me so hard, I freeze like a deer before a freight train.

Oh shit.

His eyes lock with mine, and then it feels like I’m being hunted, and it makes my entire body tense until I start to tremble.

Fingers wrap around the back of my neck, and instinctively I move closer to Demitri. His thumb brushes against my skin as if he’s trying to set me at ease.

The man comes to a stop in front of me, and then his eyes slowly move from me to Demitri and back again.

“Alexei Koslov,” he murmurs, his voice filled with the promise of death. And then he smiles, and I can’t stop myself from taking a step back. Demitri’s hand on my neck is all that keeps me from running to find a place I can hide, because Alexei’s smile makes him look even more dangerous. Like a cat that’s playing with a poor mouse before biting the head off.

Tags: Michelle Heard Crime
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