I fought to keep my hate in place, along with my grief. I needed someone to blame; that was the only capacity in which I needed Valerian Petrov.
I stared straight ahead at his chest, then frowned; a button was undone so I could see the top of a massive chest tattoo or what appeared like one.
I reached out. He jerked and stepped back, holding up a hand as though to ward me off. “If the shirt comes off, so does the mask.”
“Which one?” I challenged. “I’m sure you have several metaphorical masks, right? As a boss, you’d have to.”
He flinched and then started twisting the giant ring on his finger, the one that showed the world who ruled it.
Him.
“You know, if you could just stop being so fucking stubborn for one second…” His accent thickened. “…you’d realize you need me, Violet.”
“Need you?” I scoffed. “For what?”
He twirled my hair with one of his fingers and then twirled again, jerking me toward him until we were chest to chest. “Be smarter, Vi.”
“Be crueler, Valerian.”
“Don’t tempt me to fuck some sense into you. At least maybe then you’d stop crying, stop feeling sorry for yourself. This is a tough world, Vi, and I need you to be the person that—” He stopped himself and looked away. “I need you to be Chase Abandonato’s daughter, not Breaker Campisi’s ex-lover, do you understand me? You have a job now, and that doesn’t disappear just because he’s dead, just like the danger you’re in even now doesn’t disappear because you need a minute to grieve.” He stepped toward the door. “Dry your eyes. I’ll give you five minutes before I come back. Our first night starts now.”
Leaving me with a mouth that had gone dry as a freaking desert.
Chapter Seventeen
In all my nightmares, I never imagined this outcome, in all my days living, I never understood the true meaning of hell—until she said his name. —Valerian Petrov
Valerian
“She fucking stabbed me,” I hissed into the phone. “So don’t tell me to calm down and that everything’s going to work out.”
“You took a blood oath, Valerian.” He sighed. “One you can’t get out of. At least the evidence was destroyed. Imagine if Chase got his hands on that video? Do you realize how reckless that was? How damning?”
“No,” I said sarcastically. “Please tell me while I clean up the flesh wound delivered by the woman sleeping next to me at night. By all means, continue your lecture.”
He chuckled. “At least she’s not boring.”
“She’s never been boring,” I said defensively. “Look, I asked her for a few more days. I’ll personally deliver her for the funeral, and then she can make her choice.”
“So, until then, you’re just going to what? Play fucking house?” He wasn’t amused by my need for more time.
“I need more time before I tell her.” I rested my forehead against the wall while he sighed heavily on the other end. “I need more time before I tell her I killed Breaker. Please.”
“You have your four days. Bring her for the funeral, maybe they’ll let you give the eulogy.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.” He always did find himself hilarious when he was the exact opposite of funny—bastard was too terrifying to be anything but a monster.
I checked my watch. Five minutes had passed, and at least now, I wasn’t bleeding. Damn that dagger had aimed true, hadn’t it? Truer than I’d wanted to admit to her.
I didn’t think Violet had it in her. Ever.
That was why you never trusted women in the mafia. They were scrappy, beautiful, cunning black widows that would sink their poison into you the minute you orgasm, bringing you to the brink of death while you begged them for it.
I walked back up the stairs, blindfold in hand, my mask firmly in place, because even I wasn’t dumb enough to think she’d accept this life, accept me just yet.
Violet was standing in the middle of the room, close to where I had left her. She had a pair of black silk sleep shorts on and a matching cami. Her hair was pulled away from her face, and she had her hands on her hips like she was lecturing the air in front of her.
“Knock, knock…” I grinned.
She scowled.
Well, they didn’t say it would be easy.
“Done crying?” I asked.
“Done being a monster?” she fired back sweetly.
“Not yet, actually, thanks for asking.” I approached. “Close your eyes.”
She squinted and then closed her eyes. She immediately tensed when I tied the black blindfold around her eyes. “Is this necessary?”
“I stole something,” I whispered from behind her. “I intend to give it back.”
“You can’t give someone back their virginity.”
“No, but I can give back her dignity, her trust. I can give back those tiny moments.”
“Nothing will erase that moment, Valerian.”
“No, but hopefully, I can do something to give you a new memory, a new story, a new ending…”