King's Ransom (Ruthless Doms 3)

We’re going to land soon. “Taara,” I say, gently shaking her shoulder. She wakes with a start and a little yelp.

“You’re alright,” I tell her. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”

But is it true? She’s with me.

She looks at me in silence for a moment but doesn’t reply. Then she finally huffs out angrily.

“Gee,” she says sarcastically. “Thanks. I’m safe.” But she can’t mask the way her voice cracks. I want to hold her so badly and comfort her it’s physically painful, but I can’t.

The two paths in front of me mock me, neither the right option. On the one hand, I could choose to go with her, but if I do, she’s joined to me, and it’s too fucking dangerous for her. The other...my life without her. And that path seems dreary and dismal.

But I have to choose what’s best for Taara, not me.

Love isn’t a choice of what’s best for me, but for her.

If I love her, and I know now that I do, I have to let her go.Chapter 18TaaraWhen he got on the plane, it took every bit of self-control I could muster not to break down. I wanted to run to him, to throw my arms around his shoulders and ask him why.

Why he made me leave. Why he sent me on this plane back to America alone.

Why he came back.

What have I done to deserve his dismissal? It hurts so badly I can’t even think about it, so I bury myself in magazines and finally welcome sleep when it comes, though it’s fitful and restless, and the weighted pain of his rejection settles back on me as soon as I open my eyes.

Why is he here? If he wanted to send me back to America, he could’ve stayed back and saved me the torture of his presence.

I get off the plane, disheveled and barely dressed, and it surprises me that Marissa waits outside with Nicolai. I don’t want to see them right now. If I were to become Stefan’s, those two would be like family. And I can’t mentally go there. I can’t.

Marissa reaches her hands out to me. “Welcome home, Taara,” she says. “How are you feeling?” She looks at me so probingly, I become concerned.

“I’m fine,” I say, baffled. Nicolai looks at me sternly, though, his eyes narrowed, and arms crossed on his chest. Does he still not believe me? Does he still think me a spy? Well he can fuck way the hell off, because I have no interest in wasting an ounce of my breath convincing him I’m innocent. Nope. Not gonna do it.

“I just feared that you’d be worried, once you—”

“Marissa.” Stefan’s sharp voice cuts in from behind me. “No.”

I turn around to look at him curiously. What the hell?

“No what?” I say, confused.

Nicolai sighs. “She doesn’t know.”

Stefan shakes his head.

Know what? God.

“Sure,” I say. “Go ahead. Keep talking like I’m not even standing right here before you.”

But they don’t even bother to acknowledge that I’m there. Instead, they talk right over me.

“I didn’t want her worrying uselessly for the entire flight. She needed rest,” Stefan says.

Nicolai nods. “Fair.”

Wait. What’s going on here?

“Do you have something to tell me?” I ask Stefan coldly, crossing my arms over my chest in an effort to self-protect.

But I’m unprepared for his response. I’m not ready for the cold tone of his voice, the aloof and detached manner, but most of all? The news he tells me.

“Taara, it’s your mother,” he says, and when he looks at me, I swear I read sympathy in his eyes, but it quickly vanishes. “We got news that she’s very ill. And I—” his voice trails off before he clears his throat and turns back to me. “I wanted to be sure you were here, actually able to see her, before I told you.”

“Thanks?” I ask, huffing out an angry breath. “I could have made that decision myself, you know?”

A muscle ticks in his jaw, but he doesn’t respond at first. I turn to Nicolai. “Who knows how she’s doing?” I demand. “Where is she? What are her symptoms?”

“Let’s go see her,” Nicolai suggests. “And we can talk on the way.”

“Thank you.” I look down at the clothes I’m wearing and up questioningly to Marissa. “But what about…”

“Her clothes, Nicolai,” she says. “Let’s get her back to the compound so she can at least change.”

He sighs. “We have so little time.”

And that’s when I realize what’s happening. My mother’s dying. He’s flown me back to America to see her.

How long has he known this?

“I’ll bring them to her,” Stefan supplies. “Drop her off there now so she doesn’t have to wait.”

Nicolai pulls onto the highway. We ride in stony silence. Marissa clears her throat.

“So, how was your trip to Russia?”

I sigh. “Fine. I met Demyan and Larissa.”

“How are they?” Nicolai asks. “I was once a member of that group.”