Page 127 of Vendetta Crown

I tear open the gold wrapping paper, my fingers steady despite the cold dread creeping up my spine. The box itself is simple—white cardboard with a lift-off lid. Taking a deep breath, I remove the top.

My heart stops.

"That bastard..." The words escape my lips as a whisper.

There, nestled in tissue paper, is my old teddy bear. Mr. Waffles. The one my father won at a carnival when I was five. The same bear that used to sit on my bed every night in Kansas City.

For a moment, I'm that little girl again, clutching my beloved teddy after a nightmare. Dad would sit on the edge of my bed, stroking my hair, telling me monsters weren't real.

He was wrong.

My fingers tremble now as I reach for the worn brown fur. The moment I lift Mr. Waffles, I can tell something's wrong.

He's too light. And when I turn him over, I see why.

A long, jagged cut runs across his belly. The stuffing spills out onto my hands—white cotton innards like tiny clouds escaping their prison. I drop the bear as if it's burned me.

"Ruslan." My voice is oddly calm.

He's beside me instantly, one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching for the bear.

"There's a note." He pulls out a folded piece of paper, and his fingers clench when he opens it, knuckles turning white with fury.

"Let me see it," I demand.

He hesitates but hands it over. The handwriting is achingly familiar. The same neat, controlled script that used to appear on love notes slipped into my high school locker.

Dear Jamie,

I hope you and that Russian bastard can enjoy these final days with each other. Because soon you'll be with me, and I'm going to cut out his bastard from your belly.

The note crumples in my fist. I don't realize I'm shaking until Ruslan's arms surround me, pulling me against his chest.

"That bastard." I manage through the rage building in my throat. "Thatfucking bastard!"

"He's trying to scare you," Ruslan whispers fiercely into my hair.

I step back from his embrace and look up at him, my hand protectively covering my stomach.

"Scared?" A mirthless laughter falls from my lips. "Oh, I'm not scared of him anymore, Ruslan. I'm done being scared."

I throw the bear across the room with violence. My body is shaking from a fury so intense that it feels like it might burn me from the inside out.

"He thinks he still has power over me?" My voice sounds strange, almost feral as I slam my fist against the wall. "After everything he's done to your family and mine, he still thinks he can scare me?"

I pace the length of our bedroom, heart hammering against my ribcage. The twins shift restlessly inside me as if channeling the same anger and rage coursing through my veins.

"Let him come." I'm practically spitting the words now. "I'm not running anymore. I'm not hiding. And I'm not letting him take one more thing from us!"

Ruslan watches me, his golden eyes never leaving my face.

"I'll kill him myself if I have to." The cold certainty in my voice surprises even me. "He took my parents. He took my brother. He took seven years of my life. He took your nieces' mother! He willnottake my children too."

I turn to Ruslan, and the look on his face tells me he's never seen this side of me before.

Good.

Neither has Kristofer.

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