Chapter 46
Fallon
After dinner, I curl deeper into the armchair and squeeze my eyes shut for a long moment, trying not to spill the cup of coffee I’ve been served. I asked for tea but was given this harsh brew instead.
This grand living room always scared me. It’s too big, like it can swallow me whole. The harsh ceiling lights hurt my eyes.
Dessert trays gleam on the sideboard. Nothing I like except for tiny éclairs dusted with sugared cranberries.
Eyes open again, I stare longingly at Rhys, who sits on the sofa opposite me, legs sprawled, shoulders loose. But I can tell from the stillness in his jaw and the way his eyes keep drifting around the room, he’s wound tight beneath the surface.
He’s angry about Kosta. If Daddy will only see that Rhys can keep me safe as much as Kosta, everything will be wonderful. Kosta has been in jail. Daddy shouldn’t trust him. And he raped me, for crying out loud!
Only, this visit isn’t going the way I planned.
I want to crawl across the carpet and press my cheek to Rhys’s knee, beg him to talk to me, to thaw the ice he’s wrapped around his heart out of respect for my father.
Daddy thinks I’m crazy already. If he sees me crawling on the carpet, he’ll up my meds and pay a man to shove them down my throat every morning. Instead, I pop a sugared cranberry into my mouth and try to pretend I’m not drowning in pain and loneliness.
The shadow of a man behind me darkens my chair. I expect it’s another servant, another silent, faceless body doing a thankless job. But my father rises from the sofa with a smile bigger than I’ve ever seen.
Curious, I turn around to see what has my father so enthralled. The crystal spoon for the coffee I don’t drink clinks against my cup. My fingers go numb.
No.
No, no, no.
“Kosta,” Daddy says warmly. “Finally.”
Rhys ’s feet hit the floor, and his hands curl into fists like he’s ready to launch off the sofa and beat Kosta to a pulp.
The man who raped me steps into the living room with a confident prowl like he knows one day he’ll own everything. That’s the only reason he wants to marry me.
That’s all he wants. My father’s money.
And all my father wants is me out of his hair for good. Trapped in an unbreakable vow. Unbreakable because I would never be allowed to divorce Kosta.
My throat closes. My heart slams against my ribs.
With just a glance, I see the same cold eyes that once skimmed down my body like I was a lowly pawn to be captured. He greets my father in a pleasant tone that makes my skin crawl. It’s the same one he used when he promised to be gentle with me. Then he brutally raped me.
“Merry Christmas, Fallon,” my father says, his tone rich with delight. “I cashed in a lot of favors to bring your fiancé home as a present for you this year.”
Rhys’s gaze flicks from me to Kosta, a blade unsheathing in his glare.
“When did you get out of jail?” I stand with my arms crossed, trying to stop my body from trembling.
“This morning, my love.” He grins. “Didn’t you get my letters?”
Rhys looks ready to detonate.
“I don’t recall.” I take a deep breath and plant my feet. “And I also don’t care what kind of deal you and my father made years ago. I’m not marrying you.” My voice cracks, but I motion to Rhys on the sofa. “This is my boyfriend. He loves me.”
My father’s smile never falters, but there’s no warmth when he says, “No, dear Fallon. He isn’t your boyfriend. He’s pretending. He told me so himself.”
My lungs collapse, and I can’t breathe. “Rhys?”
My father grips my shoulder, steadying and trapping me. “Rhys doesn’t love you.”
“Yes, he does,” I say with a wild growl. “Tell him, Rhys. Tell him and Kosta that you love me.”
“Tell her the truth,” my father says with a patronizing tone.
“He’s right. I don’t love you, Fallon.” Rhys stands up. “This was just a game to keep you quiet. I told you that over and over. You selectively listen.”
No. No. No.
I bolt from the living room. My feet barely feel the carpeted stairs.
My pulse screams in my ears as I fly down the long hallway to my bedroom.
I slam the door behind me, twisting the lock, my lungs burning.
I reach for it to twist it two more times, when the door pushes open in between my obsession.
Kosta stands in the doorway. No warm smile. No more charm. Just the sharp, cold mask of ruthless power. “You haven’t been taking your meds, have you?” he asks, voice rough and accusing.
“No,” I whisper with a cranky smile.
“I was told you were,” he says, circling me. “That’s the reason for this betrayal with yet another man?”
“I don’t need those pills.” I need Rhys!
I understand he’s alone here. This is my fault. I put him in danger. I played this all wrong, and Rhys will get hurt if he tries to take me home.
“Have you slept with him?” Kosta asks, hovering over me.
The question carves through me, and I lift my chin. “Yes. And I loved it.”
“Slut!” Kosta backhands me across my face so hard the sound echoes off the walls.
The sting blooms hot, tears burning my eyes as I stagger to the floor. The door clicks again, and my father strolls in. Surely he’ll murder Kosta for hitting me.
He doesn’t even look at me. Doesn’t offer me a hand to get off the floor or grab a tissue to stop my lip from bleeding. He just paces the length of the room with his hands tucked behind his back.
Finally, he glances down and stares at me like I’m the biggest disappointment on the planet.
Kosta justifies hitting me. “She’s been sleeping with that Quinlan assassin.”
Before my father can object, Kosta delivers another blow to my jaw with his fist. My ears ring, and I gag on the blood filling my mouth.
My father lunges, catching his arm as he lifts it to strike me again. “Stop. If Quinlan sees bruises on her face, he will come back with that entire fucking empire and kill you. They do not approve of hurting women. Them and those O’Rourkes they are aligned with.”
“They wouldn’t dare,” Kosta snarls, trying to wrench free.
“I will set the Bratva on them. Kirill is itching for a new fight. I will marry this little slut the day after tomorrow in City Hall before that empire can properly mobilize. After that, I will lock her in my penthouse.” He crouches down and grabs my face.
“And I will force meds down her throat to make her behave.”
“I will never behave for you.” I spit at him. I don’t cry. I won’t give them that satisfaction. “The only man I will kneel for is Rhys Quinlan.”
Kosta wipes the spit from his face and sucks it off his tongue with a smile. “Keep it up, hellcat. I will enjoy punishing you as my wife.”
My father shakes his head. “I’ll send the nurse to make sure she takes an extra dose of meds tonight.”
He and Kosta both leave me on the floor. The door shuts, and the lock engages with a soft click. From the outside. They locked me in!
I lie still on the scratchy carpet until I hear their voices fade down the corridor. Then I move.
My hands are shaking, but my mind sharpens with cold fury. They are not stuffing me full of meds.
I tug on my boots and coat with clumsy fingers, then open a window.
The frozen winter air knifes through my lungs.
Crap, it’s cold. I climb out one foot at a time, heart hammering.
The roofline is slick with ice, and my boots immediately struggle to get a foothold.
But just as I balanced to get from my apartment to Rhys’s, I waltz along the narrow ledge.
But halfway across, my foot slips. My stomach drops, and the stars above spin. I lose track of their position. Next, I’m falling. The impact below is a white-hot bite. The snow swallows me like a plush bed. Cold explodes through my body as my head cracks against something hard beneath the drift.
The world blurs, dimming around the edges of my eyesight.
And then there’s nothing at all.