Tears of Betrayal

Residual panic still tightens my chest, and I pull the blanket up to beneath my chin, then curl up against the armrest.

It was just a nightmare.

But for how long? It can become my reality at any moment.

I was starting to forget who Demitri is. A killer.

And someone wants me dead because of my father.

Is this what my life will be like if I manage to survive Demitri? Will it be one hit after the other until I can’t escape and end up dead?

A wretched sob builds in my chest, and I focus hard to keep it down.

Was I living a lie thinking I could live a separate life from my father’s?

I never asked questions. I never had any interest in what my father did for a living. I was just happy whenever I got to talk to him or see him. To me, he was just Dad.

My voice sounds empty when I ask, “Has anyone ever escaped the Bratva?”

Taking a deep breath, Demitri sets his cup down next to mine, and then he pauses the episode that’s been playing on the TV.

Leaning back against the couch, he answers, “The Bratva isn’t coming after you.”

“Who is it? Who ordered the hit on me?”

When Demitri keeps quiet, I turn my head to look at him. Our eyes lock, and then he shakes his head.

“You don’t know, or you’re not going to tell me?” I ask.

His eyes search mine for something, then he says, “I’m not going to tell you. Not yet.”

“Why?”

As Demitri looks at me, I realize this is the most human he’s looked since we met. There’s no warning shining from his eyes. There’s no annoyance or anger.

Instead, there’s compassion and something else… something that actually has a calming effect on me.

“You’re dealing with enough shit. One thing at a time.”

The longer I stare into Demitri’s eyes, the more it feels like a cocoon is wrapping around me. One where my old life and my daunting reality can’t find me. Softly, I murmur, “I thought you didn’t care.”

“I’m not the monster you think I am.”

Needing to get to know Demitri better, I say, “Then tell me something about you other than that you’re a killer.”

Demitri breaks eye contact with me, turning his face toward the sliding doors and the dark night beyond the glass.

Silence stretches between us until I’m left thinking he’s not going to give me anything, then only does he finally answer me, “I was born in Russia. I spent my entire life training to become a custodian. I swore to protect Alexei with my last breath, and it’s a vow I’ll never break.”

He’s loyal.

“So all you do is work?”

“You could say that,” he answers, then taking a deep breath, he turns his gaze back to me.

With this being the first normal conversation we’re having, I slowly begin to relax a little. “Don’t you want more from life?”

Demitri shakes his head. “Like?”

“You know…” I shrug, “normal stuff. A family of your own?”

“I have a family,” he mutters.

“I mean… a wife and kids,” I explain myself better.

Demitri lets out a soft chuckle. “Unless it’s arranged to solidify an alliance, I won’t get married.”

“Because of the promise you made to Alexei?”

Demitri just nods.

For the first time, I feel a flicker of compassion for my captor. “Doesn’t it get lonely?”

He shakes his head. “There’s no time in my world for loneliness.”

I lower my eyes to the open space of couch between us. “Can you tell me about the Bratva?” When Demitri says nothing, I lift my gaze back to his. “I want to know what the world is like that I’ve been dragged into.”

“It’s no place for someone like you,” he says, his jaw clenching slightly.

“I don’t have much of a choice,” I mutter.

“You do,” he says, then his voice drops low as he adds, “I’ll make sure of it.”

Still not able to trust Demitri, the words don’t offer me much hope or comfort.

The only sure thing in my life right now is that I’m in danger, and it’s starting to grind my spirit to dust.

Chapter 12

DEMITRI

Ariana finally fell asleep on the couch, and during the early morning hours, she woke me when she snuggled against my side.

I haven’t moved a muscle since, just processing the fact that in her sleep, she gravitated toward me.

And it feels good.

It feels right.

Glancing down at Ariana’s sleeping face, her cheek pressed against my chest, I allow the emotions she makes me feel to spread through me.

I never thought this would happen to me. But then this little stick of dynamite was thrown into my life, and the explosion she’s causing is changing everything I thought I knew about myself.

I’ve always been strict and unmovable. I always had complete control over myself and my surroundings.

Until Ariana.

My thoughts turn to the questions she asked about the Bratva.

Slowly I lift my right hand, and I touch her silky hair.