Page 103 of Trapped
I grabbed my coat and car keys.
She got into her car. So did I. I waited a few minutes before following, using the tracker I kept on all my cars to guide me onto 95-S. She kept driving past Milton and Foxborough.
She was heading back to Providence. My gut tightened. That city was a damn minefield for her, and she knew it. What the fuck was she thinking?
Delilah’s car turned into a quiet, residential area with manicured lawns and cookie-cutter houses. Every turn she took felt like a twist in my stomach. She stopped in front of a big house I’d visited not long ago. The gate opened for her, and she drove in.
I parked a few houses down, staying hidden but with a clear view of her. She got out of the car and headed toward her father’s house.
What are you doing, Delilah?
She walked up to the front door, and my heart hammered. My grip tightened on the steering wheel as she knocked. A man opened the door, older, with a presence that filled the doorway. Her father.
My mind raced with a thousand possibilities. Was she running back to her old life? Or was there something else, something deeper she hadn’t told me? My vision blurred as I watched them exchange words. Mikhail stepped aside, letting her into the house.
Fuck this.
I got out of the car, my fists clenching as I approached the gate. The sight of Mikhail’s smug face made me want to tear the door off its hinges.
What the fuck is going on?
THIRTY-FIVE
DELILAH
“Are you alone?”
I nodded, but Dad glanced over my shoulder.
“Alright. Come in.”
I walked inside, and he patted my shoulder. Dad was never one for big displays of emotion. I hadn’t seen him since the wedding nearly four months ago, and he looked like he’d aged years. Bags hung under his red-rimmed eyes. A grim disappointment set his jaw.
The air was thick with the tension of our strained relationship. He brought me into the living room, the scent of leather and cigar smoke mingling with my stepmother’s perfume. Zofia sat in her usual chair, her eyes narrowing.
“Well, if it isn’t the runaway bride,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “Vodka?”
She poured me a shot from the bottle on the table, not even bothering to wait for a response. She’d always been a horriblehuman being. I sat in the chair furthest from her and focused on my dad.
He sat in front of me, his gaze hard.
“Running away from Dimitri was the most foolish thing you’ve ever done. Do you have any idea the chaos you’ve caused? The shame you’ve brought on this family?”
Zofia sat back, crossing her legs. “Solnyshko, we only want what’s best for you. You know that, don’t you?”
“Not really.”
Zofia smiled. “You’ve always been headstrong. It’s just…sometimes,solnyshko, we need to think about more than just ourselves. Our actions affect everyone around us.”
Classic Zofia move—a compliment laced with criticism.
“Family is everything,” she pressed on, leaning forward, her eyes locked on mine. “And sometimes, family requires sacrifice. We all have to do things we don’t like for the good of the family. It’s time you start thinking about your role in all this.”
She framed submission as duty and manipulation as love. It was a skill she’d perfected over the years, making you feel guilty for wanting something different.
“And we can forgive, you know,” she added softly, almost a whisper. “We can move past this incident. We can put it all behind us if you apologize.”
I looked from her to my father, seeing the same demand for compliance in his eyes. “I’m not here to apologize about my decision. I don’t regret leaving Dimitri, not for a second. I came to ask you about Luca.”