Page 158 of Vendetta Vows

"We know enough."

His eyes meet mine, and the hardness there makes me recoil. It's not my Ruslan looking back at me—it's the pakhan.

"If Mikayla is innocent, she needs to prove it."

"To whom does she need to prove her innocence?" I ask, my voice rising. "Her uncle? Or her pakhan?"

And right now, I'm not sure which oneI'mtalking to.

"It needs to be done, Aurora." His voice is measured, controlled—the voice he uses when speaking to his men. "Someone has compromised our security. Someone has endangered not just us, but my nieces."

I step closer, refusing to back down. "She's a child, Ruslan."

"This is for their own good." His eyes harden further. "I'm trying to protect everyone. From themselves if necessary. I don't want to do this, but I have to."

Those words make me back away from Ruslan, my heart thundering against my ribs.

"You sound just like him." I continue, my voice shaking. "Just like what he told me when he wrote those awful words on the wall in my parents' blood."

Look what you made me do.

The freedom I thought I'd found in Ruslan's arms suddenly feels like another kind of trap. His desire to protect has transformed into control.

And in the process, it has become another cage.

"Aurora, I?—"

"I won't let you interrogate her like she did something wrong," I don't give him the chance to justify himself. "She deserves better than that."

Ruslan's expression doesn't change as he reaches for me. Before I can step away, his arm circles my waist, grip firm but not painful.

"This isn't open for discussion," he says, walking me toward the door.

I twist in his grasp. "Take your hands off me?—"

The door opens, and Artyom appears with Mikayla beside him. Her eyes are wide, frightened.

"Uncle Ruslan?" she whispers, voice small.

"Inside," Ruslan orders Mikayla as he points to his office, his tone brooking no argument.

Mikayla's eyes find mine, fear written across her face. My heart breaks seeing her so scared. I reach for her hand, but Ruslan steps between us.

"It's okay," I try to reassure her. "Just tell him the truth."

Mikayla nods once, her face pale as she walks into the office.

"Artyom." Ruslan points at me, his voice hard as steel. "She stays outside.Eto moi prikaz."

Then, the heavy door closes behind them with a final-sounding thud.

Artyom crosses his arms over his chest, positioning himself squarely in front of the door. His expression is apologetic but resolute.

"Move," I demand.

"No," he says softly.

I glare at him, then at the closed door, tears of frustration burning in my eyes. The man I thought was different from other monsters is showing his true colors after all.

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