Chapter 59 Petyr
PETYR
I should have known better.
No—I did know better.
I knew she was a Danilo. That she was a liar, not to be trusted. And I still let her soft looks and sweet little laughs dig under my skin until I started actually believing her act.
Like a fucking idiot.
She’s staring at me now, her doe eyes wide, her voice small. “You… you knew?”
“Of course I fucking knew.” I force a smile, the jagged edges unfamiliar. A sharp, cruel thing.
But Sima will never believe I hate her unless I sell it, and she’s already proven herself a far better actress than me. If I want her to believe me, I need to put on a grade-A performance.
I need to become a monster.
“Why do you think I called your name at the altar?” I ask, mocking.
“I could have waited around until some useless cousin dragged Sidorov’s daughter back to me kicking and screaming.
Could have gotten myself a wife that way.
No need to lift a finger. But you’d fallen into my lap, and you were far more useful than Polina.
” I bare my teeth. “Then I called you up, and I didn’t even have to drag you.
You walked. On your own two feet. Straight to me. Just like I wanted.”
Her lips part like I’ve slapped her. For a second, something tightens in my chest, but I shove it down hard. I can’t afford softness now. Softness is what got me in this.
And only ruthlessness is going to get me out of it.
My father knew this. It’s why he taught me so well. Time to put his teachings to use.
“What? No answer?” I take another step, watch her inch back. I should feel powerful, but somehow, all I feel is sick with myself. “Guess you’re not as good off-script, after all.”
When Sima finally finds her voice again, it wavers. “You can’t mean that.”
“Can’t I?”
“You offered me a deal.” Her fists ball up at her sides, small and useless. “Why would you do that if you were planning to—”
I cut her off with a sharp, barking laugh. “You actually believed that bullshit? Jesus, lisichka.” The nickname slips out of me unbidden, traitorous. “There was never any deal.”
She reels back, hurt written all across her face.
But I press on. Go in for the kill. God knows it’s the only way. This thing between us needs to die.
And I need to be the one to kill it.
Because otherwise, Sima will kill me. She will kill Dimitri, and Kira, and everyone else, and then she’ll plunge the knife straight through my heart.
I’ve seen this movie before. I know how it ends. I’ve watched this kind of betrayal happen to my father. I’m not letting it happen to me.
“I never intended to honor that deal. Not for one goddamn second.”
In a way, it’s not even a lie.
At first, I didn’t know whether I was going to actually let her go. And then, when things heated up between us, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to. That I’d want to keep her here forever.
The only thing I never planned to do was handing her back to the Danilos, but she doesn’t need to know that. I don’t owe her the truth. Or anything else.
Not anymore.
“You seriously believed I’d marry a Danilo and then just fucking let her go?” I press. “That I’d ever allow you to walk away clean? Blyat’, Sima, I’m not that stupid. And neither are you.”
“I don’t believe you,” Sima finally whispers.
“You should.” I take another step, and then we’re standing face-to-face, her petite body swallowed up by my shadow. “I always planned to keep you. Knock you up, get my heir, and then dangle you over your family for leverage.”
“You’re lying.”
“And if that didn’t work,” I continue, “I’d keep the heir and toss you back to them when I was done.”
“You’re lying!”
Her whole frame shakes. I’ve killed men with my bare hands, but I’ve never felt more like a villain than right now, as I break the spirit of the woman I once thought I might love.
“You can’t mean that. You can’t.”
You’re right. I want to say it, but I restrain myself.
From the day we struck our deal, I knew I wouldn’t do any of that. But she doesn’t know that. She can’t.
I’ve been a fool to bring this woman into my life and not once consider she’d betray me for her flesh and blood.
The thought burns worse than any bullet I’ve ever taken. Because a part of me knows that, if she asked me now—if she begged—I’d cave. I’d forgive her.
And that makes me even angrier. That she’s reduced me to this.
“We’ll see.” I step away from her. “Because that plan’s back on the table now. I’m not interested in harboring traitors. I’ll wait for you to give me my heir, and then I’ll send you back to your family ruined.”
Her tears fall and streak her cheeks. She swipes at them with impatient hands and glares at me like she still refuses to believe me.
“You should be grateful,” I add. “You got your wish. At least now, your father won’t ever be able to marry you off. You’re damaged goods.”
Finally, I can see in her eyes that the doubt is creeping in.
“How can you do this to me?” she chokes out. “After all we’ve been through, how… how can you?”
“How can I? How the fuck can you, Sima? How can you stand there and pretend you know nothing about my brother’s attack? How can you leak to your family while you’re lying in my fucking bed? Playing the whore while you cut me open?”
Sima flinches at the harshness of my words, but lifts her chin stubbornly and blinks through the tears. “I never—”
“Don’t you fucking dare lie to me again. Or I swear your family will be getting you back in pieces.”
I hate myself for what I’m saying and doing to her. And even more so for how close I come to reaching for her right after. The urge to pull her against me, bury her face in my neck and comfort her—it’s too fucking ingrained.
But I can’t. If I touch her, I’m lost.
So I turn. Storm out. Before I can walk back everything I’ve said, undo all the work I’ve done to sever myself, I shut the door and leave her behind.
For good.