“Get out, Dad.” I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see his face. “Just go.”
“But—”
“Out!” Carter’s voice cracked like a whip, and the two goons standing beside the door grabbed my father and dragged him out.
The moment the door closed behind my father, Carter’s controlled façade shattered. He grabbed my throat, slamming me against his desk. Papers scattered.
“You stupid little bitch.” His breath hit my face, full of bourbon and rage. “Did you think you could humiliate me? Destroy everything I built for my son?” His fingers tightened. “I’m going to take my time with you, make you regret every moment you thought you were smarter than me.”
He didn’t have a grand plan or some thought as to how he could use me to come back from this, just pure, entitled fury. Thisasshole.
“I’m going to break you—not because I need to or because it serves any purpose.” His smile was pure cruelty. “Simply because I can.”
Black spots danced across my vision as Carter’s grip tightened. My artificial valve clicked frantically, desperately, like a trapped bird against my ribs.
“Did you think they actually loved you?” He laughed, the sound ugly and raw. “A cheap little nothing from nowhere? My son could have had anyone. Tristan could have played for any team.” His fingers dug into my throat. “But you seduced them, didn’t you? Spread your legs and played the victim until they threw everything away.”
I clawed at his hand, lungs burning. The edges of the desk bit into my spine.
“I’m going to take everything from you.” He released my throat, only to backhand me hard enough to taste blood. Another blow sent me sprawling. “You’re going to wish you’d never heard the name Carter.”
My head cracked against the marble floor. The room spun, Carter’s expensive shoes moving in and out of focus as he circled me.
“Get up.” He kicked my ribs, right where the surgical scar wrapped around my side. “I said get up!”
I tried. My arms shook, giving out beneath me. The valve stuttered, each click more erratic than the last.
“Pathetic.” He grabbed my hair, yanking me up. “Just like my son. Weak. Useless.” His breath was hot against my ear. “But I’m going to enjoy teaching you your place.”
My phone buzzed in my discarded coat.
Carter slammed me face-first into his desk. The impact jarred through my chest, and my valve?—
One heartbeat. Two. Nothing.
“Not so brave now, are you?” His weight crushed me against the mahogany. “No more clever plans? No more?—”
Pain exploded through my chest like shattered glass. A scream tore from my throat, raw and animalistic.
“Please,” I gasped. “My medicine?—”
“Begging already?” He ground my face harder into the desk. “We’re just getting started.”
My vision tunneled. The valve clicked once, twice, then nothing. Just empty space where my heartbeat should be.
The last thing I saw was a letter opener under the desk as consciousness fled and the darkness took me.
55
ALEKSANDR
The doorto Eva’s house hung open, the lights on. I grabbed the gun out of my glove compartment—a gift from Dmitri.
The house was silent. Still, I approached it cautiously then scoffed to myself. Like I was some experienced soldier. I was a fucking hockey coach. Or, at least, I had been.
The stairs to the porch creaked as I walked up them, but the house remained silent.
Too silent.