Page 211 of Hate to Love You

Her words instantly make my blood run cold within my veins.

“What?” I whisper. “Wh…How?”

“You told me to monitor her closely,” Ana hisses. “So that’s what I’ve been doing. I’ve had one of our men posted at her house for the last twenty-four hours and he just sent me a picture of Heather’s vehicle pulling up at Polina’s gate.”

“I…don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head, struggling to form complete sentences. “Why would she…she doesn’t even know Polina. They don’t run in the same circles. The only interaction she would’ve ever had with her would be casually observing Polina coming into the office a handful of times. What the fuck could they possibly have in common?”

Ana snorts sarcastically before cursing in Russian under her breath.

“You really don’t get it do you?” She laughs coldly. “The thing they have in common is their hatred of you. Both your ex-employee, and your disgruntled sister now are bonding over their hatred of you, and who the fuck knows what they are planning. But considering Heather knew that you and Polina were on the outs, and immediately went running straight to her, I’d say she’s a bit more observant than you think, and things are a bit past casual now.”

“Ana, I—” I start to say but she simply hangs up the phone, leaving me stunned and seething in the silent backseat.

Fucking hell.

In the middle of my chaotic little spiral, the car suddenly comes to a stop on a quiet street.

“Boss, we’re here,” Cal says, clearing his throat. “What would you like to do?”

What would I like to do?

The question is simple, but the truth is not, and I realize now that I have no idea why I even told Cal to come all the way across town to Abby’s house.

A serial killer’s house.

However, as I sit here, debating my decisions, a text comes through…from Abby. When I open it, I find that staring back at me is a picture of her perfect little pussy.

I ball my fist, biting it with my teeth.

Ooh this fucking girl.

And just like that I’ve made up my mind.

I may have a lot on my plate right now. Between the turf war with the Irish, and the rapidly developing problem with Polina, I probably have more open-ended questions than I have answers, all of which require my attention.

But you know what? Fuck it. Fuck it all.

So much of my life is spent growing my family’s dynasty, and relentlessly working to ensure its safety and survival.

Tonight, however, I just want to be selfish.

…And fuck the sass right out of Abigail if it’s the last fucking thing I do.

“Cal, stay here,” I say as I step out of the car.

My heart pounds in my chest as I make my way up the cobblestone path to her porch, finding Oleg waiting for me.

“Has she said anything?”

“Not much,” he shrugs, furrowing his brow. “But she did apologize.”

“What?” I ask. “She…apologized?”

“Yeah,” he says, shaking his head. “She said something about it being self-preservation?”

Oh.

As strange as it might be, hearing that Abby had some remorse gives me a bit of relief.