‘My father didn’t need his fists to make an impression. He’d take my phone—prevent my contact with the outside world to ensure compliance. I thought I’d go mad at times. In the end I behaved. Or he thought I did.’
He couldn’t stand here and let her continue baring herself like this. ‘Thea. Stop.’ The words were rough as ground glass in his throat.
She shot a look behind her. ‘Oh, please... You wanted to know and I’m keen to enlighten you. This bird, at my side...’
She catalogued a litany of deprivations. Too many for someone so young. He wanted to rage. To tear her family apart on her behalf. To fix this.
‘But this last one. This one is all for you, Christo, my beloved husband. When I told my father I wouldn’t marry you Demetri stepped in to convince me. Alexis and Demetri fought. Then the police...’
She stopped. Slumped a little. Her shoulders rose and fell. Then she straightened.
‘That’s when my father discovered who Alexis was. He said he’d go to jail for assault unless I married you.’ Her voice broke and trembled.
He wanted to reach for her. Hold her. Make it better, somehow. But the painful truth of their deal and what it had cost her was etched on her back, red and angry-looking. His fault and his shame.
The realisation sat leaden in his stomach.
‘And you think I used my body, used Sergei, to get him to do what I wanted?’
She turned, bared to him apart from her bra. Christo couldn’t keep his gaze from her devastated eyes.
‘He doesn’t deserve to be fired for doing what a good man should. Yes, Sergei’s protecting the one he loves—but it’s not me. I just blackmailed him into doing what I wanted.’
Defiant, she bent down for her shirt and shrugged it over her shoulders as she made for the door. When she reached it, she stopped.
‘I’ve learned that blackmail is a blunt but effective instrument. As you know too well, being so good at it yourself.’
She left the room, clicking the door softly behind her.
The sound held more quiet horror than if she’d slammed it in his face.
* * *
Christo stood outside Thea’s room, a bundle of papers in his hand. Even though he was the last person she’d want to see, he couldn’t leave her alone. Not after what she’d disclosed. He wanted to prove to Thea that he wasn’t like Tito or Demetri, that he could be trusted.
He took a steadying breath and tapped on the door, trying to ensure it sounded like a request to enter, not a demand. If she wanted her space he’d give it to her, but there were things that had to be said.
When there was no reply he turned the handle. Thea sat on her bed, leaning forward. She hadn’t changed out of her ruined shirt, which still hung open. Her hands were clenched into rigid fists on her thighs.
He eased into the room.
She didn’t look at him. Eyes fixed to the floor.
‘I have the papers I promised,’ he said, crouching down in front of her. ‘Our settlement for when my father dies...the divorce. If you sign them, they’ll be filed as soon as the will takes effect.’
‘Do you have a pen?’ Thea’s voice was the barest whisper.
‘You should read them first.’
‘I don’t care. I want nothing of yours.’
He handed her the sheaf of documents, which she glanced through. Then he drew a pen from his pocket. She took it and scrawled her name on the last page. His gut roiled as she signed, in a feeling of loss, a regret he had no right to have when for him, relationships had no permanence.
She thrust the documents at him, the papers quavering in her hand. ‘Fill in what you need to when the time comes.’
Christo took them from her, dropped them on the floor beside him. ‘No one should have gone through what you have.’
‘And you care? I’m just a means to your end.’