Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
I hold his gaze. My voice is a challenge. “Are you angry that I’m pregnant, or are you angry that I didn’t tell you about it?”
His brows pull together, the sharp lines of his face shadowed in the dim light of my living room. “You should have told me,” he finally says, more evenly. “Lyra, I thought that we had something special. I still do. Why would you keep this from me?”
I sigh heavily, suddenly feeling very tired. This is happening now, whether I’m ready for it or not. I grab his hand and pull him toward the couch. Neither of us is going anywhere soon.
“I didn’t know what to think,” I admit, my throat tight. “When I first found out about the baby, we’d only been seeing each other for a month. It seemed too fast to tell you about it. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to trap you.”
He opens his mouth to argue, but I put up a hand to stop him. Now that the words have started coming, I can’t stop them.
“But then, I found out about… your other activities,” I say, unable to meet his eyes. “And I was terrified. I didn’t know what it meant for us, or for me. I definitely didn’t want to tell you about the baby if…”
“If things went south,” he says, cutting me off.
I meet his eyes, and he looks so sad it makes my heart ache. For a long moment, the room is silent except for the faint hum of my refrigerator. Damien’s posture softens just enough that I notice. His hands curl loosely at his sides instead of into fists.
“You have no idea what it’s like to live in my world,” he says finally, his voice lower now. “Everything is a threat. Everyone is a potential enemy.”
I take his hand and look at him. “That’s why I couldn’t tell you. I’ve been thinking about all of this every day since I found out who you are. Your life poses a serious risk and it’s not just me I have to think about now. I’m responsible for this fragile little life that’s barely begun.”
His eyes narrow slightly, but there is no sharpness in them now. There’s only sadness. “I would never hurt you,” he says quietly, his voice almost breaking.
“I believe that,” I answer firmly. “But your life could hurt me. It could hurt this baby. I needed to decide what that meant before I let you in.”
Something in his expression cracks then, just slightly, like a thin line running through glass.
He exhales and looks away, toward the dark window. “I didn’t choose this life, Lyra,” he says after a moment. “When I was a kid, my father was everything to me. He was strong and respected. He was always in control, but he was still kind. He kept his business separate from home. Or at least he tried to. I was too young to understand the politics back then, but I knew his name meant something to people.”
I stay quiet, letting him speak. His voice is steady, but there is a weight behind it that draws me in.
“He ran this organization for years,” he continues.
“One day my father was killed,” Damien continues. “The son of one of his rivals came after him. His name is Rurik Vasiliev.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until I feel the hot tears hit my lap. I swipe them away quickly, not wanting Damien to think I can’t handle this.
“I watched my mother break apart,” he goes on. “I buried him knowing who had killed him, and knowing the man would keep breathing because the timing was wrong for revenge. By the time I took over the bratva, Rurik had made himself untouchable. I have spent years waiting for the right moment to make him pay.”
His eyes meet mine then, and they’re darker than I have ever seen them.
“So you’re planning to kill him,” I say, feeling like the wind is being knocked out of me. “Because if you don’t kill him, he’s going to kill you.”
Suddenly, everything I heard on the recording clicks. The pieces fall into place. It doesn’t necessarily make any of it right, but at least now I can start to understand why Damien is like this.
“Yes,” he answers simply, staring me down.
He’s challenging me, I know. He wants to see if this information is going to scare me away. If it will break me. Honestly, I don’t know how to feel.
I swallow hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. This is the truth, stripped bare.
“I was scared to tell you about the baby,” I admit. “Scared that if I told you, you would either push me away or pull me in too close. Scared that I would lose the little bit of distance I had left, the part of my life that was still mine.”