Page 263 of Hate to Love You
My heart freezes in my chest.
“What? I don’t understand…”
“Why would you, Abigail Wayne? Who’s twenty-eight, currently resides in Forest Hill’s, with a cat. Lily is her name, right?” Polina taunts, a disgustingly sweet softness in her voice. “Hmm...and you had a husband who was very wealthy, didn’t you? I chatted to him once. He was a lovely man, wasn’t he a lovely man, darling.”
She looks pointedly across the room at Teddy, who leans against the wall with his arms crossed licking his lips.
“Oh yes, Mr. Adams was a blast. He had a thing for small blonde things, if I recall correctly,” he grins, his teeth on full show.
Small blonde things.
“We were so sad to hear he had died. So suddenly too. And we were shocked to learn he died of a heart attack in the middle of his own home! At such a young age!”
My eyes stay locked on Polina’s, my necklace burning a hole in my chest.
“I’ll admit, it took us a while to piece it all together,” she laughs. “But you have an awfully nice greenhouse…Abby.”
My thundering heart comes to a stop.
“What I couldn’t figure out, however, is why my brother would take notice of a nobody like you. A plain Jane.”
Polina leans down in front of me, reaching for my face. I strain, trying to avoid her, but it’s no use as I cannot move.
“And then I saw it,” she purrs, gently stroking my cheek with the back of her icy cold fingers. “He sees his darkness lurking beneath your skin. How poetic. My ruthless, vicious, cold-hearted brother finally found the perfect woman.”
Suddenly she snaps, grabbing my chin hard between her fingers, the gun in her hand gleaming in the light.
“...But she fucked around and killed someone she shouldn’t have,” she grips my jaw painfully before violently ripping her fingers away, scratching my cheek.“I’m owed a life for a life. And I’m here to fucking collect it.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Roman
“Roman, I’m tracking Polina’s phone but it’s showing that it’s at her house. Same as her car,” Ana says into my ear as two of my men carry a mumbling Oleg out of Abby’s house and into the nearest car.
“...And I know they aren’t there because the cameras at her house have no activity. No one is there.”
She knew. She knew we’d track her.
“What about the city cameras outside of Abby’s house?”
“I’m still trying to get into those, but I’ve already told you that’s harder because of the—”
The phone suddenly beeps in my ear.
Unknown Caller.
That shouldn’t happen. No one has this number.
“Hold on,” I say, switching over to the other line.
“Who is this?” I bark.
“Well, good morning to you too,” a gravelly voice replies.
Cillian McCleary.
“You have some balls,” I growl venomously.