Page 134 of His Prince
“Good. Hopefully, you won’t have to use it, but if you must, aim for the head. It will explode like a watermelon.”
She grins at me and snaps her teeth before turning away, and I’m left feeling even more nauseous than before. But then I square my shoulders and hold my head high.
I’ll cry later. Right now, Mikhail needs me.
“Alright, grannies. Let’s teach this Daniil a lesson.”
29
MIKHAIL
Iknow that it’s not yet morning, based on the dark sky outside of the small, cloudy window I can see from my position on the floor. That means only a handful of hours have passed since I was taken. It feels longer than that—an eternity, especially with the chair back digging into my spine. And each minute that passes is like a dagger to my chest. I don’t know what Daniil and Mila have planned, but I’m almost sure they’re figuring out a way to apprehend Angel. To make me pay for what I did to Katarina.
Fuck, I didn’t even know she had any family still alive. I assumed they’d all been killed.
Not investigating it was ignorant of me. If I’d known, I could have foreseen this. Possibly. Although with how crafty Katarina was, there’s a good chance I’d never have known.
Now Angel is at risk.
At least Dima is with him. It’s a small comfort, knowing that he has some protection.
Gael was passed out when I found myself tipping over into unconsciousness.
I’m assuming Casey ingested the same thing and is incapacitated.
Fuck, I hope they’re alive.
I hope I make it out of here to apologize for my lack of foresight. To promise to be a better boss. To put more effort into this business and to protect those who work under me. And protect my husband at all costs.
A groan escapes me, my face and chest throbbing, from the pain and from the ultimate act of utter betrayal. Daniil got me so fucking good. I never thought he was much of a fighter, but it seems he’s improved his skills over the years. He’s done a lot without me knowing apparently.
Like fucking my wife. Falling in love with her.
The door swings open with a bang, and I hear Daniil speaking in Russian to someone. A woman. Perhaps this is Katarina’s sister.
I want to meet her.
I want to look her in the eyes.
“Pull him up. I want to see him,” the woman spits, and Daniil and one of the guards from dinner set me upright, making me grunt as I face her.
She’s a spitting image of Katarina—same hair, same eyes. It’s almost like the ghost of her looking back at me. I feel my skin grow clammy and my heart rate increase.
Was this who I saw lurking around my property when I thought I was going insane? When I thought I saw Katarina staring at me from the gardens? When I heard the scratching in the walls?
“Was it you in my house?” I ask.
“Yes, it was me,” she replies. “I’ve been watching you, Mikhail.”
She spits my name out like a poison, and despite the clenching of my stomach, I manage a small smile.
“Well, we should have met sooner. I can’t wait to slit your throat like I did your sister.”
Her boot connects with my shin, and I grunt as pain slices up my leg.
“Not if I cut yours first. Perhaps I’ll start with your eyes.”
I narrow them, not wanting her to actually pluck my orbs from my head. I’d love to still be able to see when I leave this place.