Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 143453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Creighton’s jaw relaxes and mine falls open.
“Papa, you…you made sure of that?”
“No.” Creighton shakes his head. “You didn’t know.”
“Of course, I did. I followed Richard’s family's downfall long after he was dead. I had men watching your house, recording your mother’s desperate attempts to seduce the DA, an Italian mafia leader, a bank employee, anyone who could get her out of trouble. The night she lost all hope, committed suicide, and attempted to kill you, I was there.”
“Shut up.” Creighton’s voice comes out so raw that I want to hold him.
“I found you passed out by the front door, face blue, and vomit streaked all over your face. I gave you CPR and carried your small body to the hospital. Once you were recuperating, I entrusted you to Rai so she’d get you out of the States and free you of the bloody pit your parents dug for themselves. That’s how you got adopted into the current family you have. I might have taken your past life, but I gave you a new one. So even if you had a grudge, you should’ve come after me, but you were a coward who went after my children and I will not forgive you for that.”
Creighton’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling in a deadly rhythm. As if he’s trying to expel a gloomy cloud that’s been festering inside him for years.
As if he can’t breathe hard enough or purge the energy bubbling inside him fast enough.
I tremble in sync with him, trying to see the revelations from his perspective.
He’s devastated, even more than when I shot him or when he found out the truth. The fact that the man he hated with all his heart, my father, is the same man who gave him the precious family and life he currently knows is ripping him apart.
I inch closer, wanting, no needing, to hold him in my arms, but his cold words directed at my father stop me.
“Kill me,” he spits out. “If you don’t, I’ll never stop.”
“Foolish fucking coward.” Papa clicks his magazine in place and I know I have seconds to react.
I don’t think about it as I snatch a gun from one of the guard's side holsters. I’m so fast that when I grab it, he has no time to stop me.
Creighton’s gaze finally falls on me, his eyes devoid of life, of that silent but caring Creighton I want back.
I’d go to unimaginable lengths to have him back.
Keeping my gaze on him, I point the gun at my temple.
“What are you doing, Anoushka?” Papa’s calm voice carries masked anger.
“Let him go,” I whisper with enough assertiveness that I believe myself.
It’s strange how simple and easy things become when you make up your mind. Peaceful, too. Like it was always meant to be.
The wind caresses my cold skin, no longer swaying me. It’s hugging me, holding my finger on the trigger and warming the barrel that’s glued to my temple.
“Annika…give me the gun.” Papa’s warning tone would’ve made me do anything not so long ago.
Not today.
“Let him go, or I swear I’ll shoot myself.” I don’t sound distressed, but more confident, because I’d do it.
I will not choose between them anymore. I won’t survive it.
Papa slowly steps back, gun still by his side. “I did what you said, now stop this madness.”
“Promise you won’t hurt him anymore.”
“I can’t do that after what he did to you.”
“That’s between him and me. You have no place to interfere. I’m not a kid anymore. And you hurt him enough for a lifetime. It’s time to stop it.”
He purses his lips but doesn’t say anything.
“Promise me, Papa.”
“Fine, I promise. Now, come here, Anoushka.”
I shake my head.
Creighton stares at me with the same fear he regarded me with when I was at the top of that cliff.
Only now, it’s so much more prominent that I taste it with sea salt.
“Drop the gun,” he whispers, voice strained.
“You asked me what I’d choose if you went head-to-head with my family again.” I dig the gun farther into my temple. “This is my answer, Creighton. I’d choose me.”
He struggles against Kolya’s hold, and when my father’s second-in-command pushes him down, he growls at Papa, “Let me the fuck go!”
Papa nods at his guard and when he releases him, Creighton all but runs in my direction.
I step back. “Don’t come any closer.”
He stops in his tracks, his body rigid, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him look so helpless.
“Anoushka, I already released him. Don’t do this.” Papa’s voice deepens. “Think of your mother, your brother. Me.”
“I can’t…” Tears stream down my face and I look at Creighton through blurry vision. “I can’t live knowing you’re full of rage and pain. I can’t live knowing you’ll always hate my parents, the same parents who gave me everything. I’d rather die than see that. Maybe if I do, you’ll finally let go of your grudge.”