32. Tatiana #2
I tensed. What was he doing? I wouldn’t sleep with him. The time for that has well passed.
He pulled his shirt over his head and my gasp filled the shitty cargo airplane. Adrian’s body was scarred. The skin on his back was all raw red sandpaper. It was the only way I could describe it. An ugly patch on his shoulder where the bullet must have pierced through him.
“Adrian,” I whimpered. My hands were still bound so I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t hug him nor comfort him although I was sure he needed it. “D-does it hurt?”
He slid his shirt back on. “No, I lost most of the feeling on my back. It was a blessing really.”
I gulped. What could I possibly say to make this better?
“Maybe we could take you to see a doctor,” I murmured. “Isabella knows some excellent ones. I’m sure she–”
“I’ve crossed the line,” he cut me off. “Your brothers are no longer part of my circle. They’ll kill me the moment they can. There’s no coming back. Not from this.”
“No, no,” I muttered, shaking my head. I didn’t care about his scars, his past. “We can fix it. Just talk to Illias.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Wrong way to appeal to him because his expression darkened and I could see him shut down his walls.
“Always so quick to forgive,” he grumbled, almost as if he hated that.
He wanted me to hate him. It’d make it easier for him to follow through with his plan.
Whatever it was. Although I had a good idea that it ended with me dead.
“Do you know I fucked with you the whole time you stayed at the penthouse? Konstantin thinks he protected you, but I hacked into his surveillance, played audio to freak you out. I even bypassed his men. Illias is not as good as he thinks he is.”
I stilled, staring at him with wide eyes. Was that hate in his eyes?
“And then you rushed into Konstantin arms,” he added in a disgusted tone. “Like a moth to the flame. And now… now you’re one of them.”
One of them.
“Because I married him?” I questioned him. “Except, what did you expect me to do? You left me thinking you’re dead. You LEFT me! Illias is ten times the man you are.”
If he’d told me what he was up against, what happened to him, I would have helped him move past all of it. If he would have only let go and let me in. But he didn’t. The whole time, I was never part of him.
He held his rage and hate in, letting his hate fester until he put me in the same group as his enemies. The enemies he created.
“You chose this,” I screamed, fury getting the best of me. “You chose your hate over us. Over me.”
He sneered. “You never loved me. You thought I was someone else and chased an illusion.”
“Maybe,” I hissed. “But you didn’t even do that.
You didn’t love me. You used me. Made me believe I was mad.
Fucking crazy out of my mind. And why?” He remained still, his eyes cold and cruel.
“Fucking answer me. Why?” I screeched, my nails digging into my palms. The sharp pain of it grounded me.
I had to keep my head, get it all out of him.
“Did you hate me so much you had to make me believe I was crazy? Moving things around. Playing those voices at night. Scaring me out of my mind.”
A shadow passed his eyes, but it disappeared in the next breath. Then his lips curved into a cruel smile. The one I had never seen on his face.
“I needed you out of there, but you kept lingering. I played sounds at night to scare you. To convince you to leave.”
My head shook, remembering those early months. The unbearable ache. Fear. Sadness. I questioned my sanity. And he was fucking with me. Literally, torturing me.
“How could you?” I rasped in a voice I didn’t recognize. “Why would you be so cruel?”
He let out a sardonic breath, full of bitterness. “Because your brothers tied up all my assets, attempting to transfer it all to you. It left me with nothing. I had to hide at my aunt’s house.”
“Aunt?” I repeated, dumbly. “I thought you were an orphan?”
“You actually met her,” he remarked dryly. “Remember the superintendent for New Orleans Municipal Cemeteries?” My eyes just about jumped out of my head. “Jane Ford. She’s my mother’s sister. It took me many years to find her.”
Then it hit me. “The dedication message! It was never me. I didn’t make that dedication for your plaque.” He didn’t need to confirm it. I knew it wasn’t me. I wasn’t crazy. This son-of-a-bitch tried to make me believe I was losing my mind. “That’s fucked up, Adrian. Truly! Even for a villain.”
He shrugged.
“I couldn't have it written by me. So I had to assign it to you. My aunt assisted. She has quite a sense of humor.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. There was zero humor in any of this. “And Nikita?” I demanded to know. “How did you get him to betray Illias?”
“He’s my cousin. Nobody knows that. It was perfect. He’s been on my side all along,” he grumbled. “Biding our time until we could bring them all down.”
And they say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Jesus Christ. That didn’t scratch the surface on Adrian and Nikita.
“You’ll fail,” I said with conviction. I wasn’t sure if I meant it or not, but I sure as hell faked it well.
He walked over to me, in that sure stride that I used to admire. His hand came to my neck, gripping lightly. Fear shot through me like adrenaline. I had never been scared of Adrian, but then it turned out I had never really known him.
I held my breath, getting lost in that familiar green gaze. “Thanks for keeping it always on you, pipsqueak.”
Confusion swelled in me and before I could question him on the meaning of it, he gripped the necklace and yanked it in one swift move. The key clinked against the ground and Adrian knelt to pick it up, while still gripping the emerald pendant.
“What are you doing?”
“The chip,” he drawled, swinging the necklace around his index finger. Oh my gosh! That motherfucker. “You had it all along.” Then he raised his other hand, holding the key I had found underneath that tile in our bathroom. “And you even held on to the key. Such a good girl.”
I shook my head incredulously. “I never realized you’re such a sadist, Adrian.
” He raised his brow as if shocked by that comment.
“Tormenting me during all those months. Making me believe I was losing my mind. Making me the target of every fucking underworld family. How does that make you better than Illias’ father? ”
Slap.
The pain across my face was immediate. It whipped my head to the side and knocked the breath from my lungs. My cheek burned and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.
It was the first time anyone had raised their hand at me.
I swore it’d be the last.