Page 49 of The Watcher's Bride

His words surprise me, I did not expect that heartless bastard to defend his daughter.

But then he continues, and I realize Quinn is exactly the scum I anticipated. “Norelle’s disability makes her the perfect obedient wife for Leonid. For she cannot run, cannot escape, no other would want her or covet what is not theirs, and it has made her more compliant.”

Dimitri nods in agreement and understanding. “You argue a good case. How did the girl come to be deformed? I trust it is not some sort of birth defect we should be concerned about.”

He’s calm and collected, but the threat is clear. If it’s a birth defect, Nora might have an accident and tragically pass away before we get a chance to produce sullied offspring.

My fists clench under the table as I try to control my anger.

“Not at all, I wouldn’t insult my good friend like that. I was the one who did it. Norelle was a willful child, she needed to learn a lesson. I’ve found that a good old-fashioned knee-capping works wonders, both inside and outside the home, for dealing with those who cause problems. Women are like young fillies, they need breaking in before you can ride them!” he replies, laughing loudly.

Dimitri and the other men at the table break into raucous laughter at his disgusting joke. I picture myself getting up from my chair to move behind Quinn, drawing a knife along his neckand watching the blood pour out onto the white linen tablecloth. Nora never told me how she got her scar, and my research didn’t tell me anything other than the barest details of her childhood. The thought that it was her father who did that to her sickens me. How could he mistreat and abuse his own flesh and blood and behave as if it’s something to be proud of?

“Most would argue that a daughter is not the father’s responsibility to break in… or ride,” I chime in with a cold smile, acting as if I am merely part of the joke.

My comment earns a laugh from the men.

Quinn’s eyes flash with anger at the insinuation only he picked up on. He’s wondering how much I know about his depravity. But he laughs along too. These men might be ruthless, vile, and cruel, but even they would be disgusted by a father molesting his underage daughter. Quinn knows that, knows what it would do to his reputation if anyone found out. Let him worry. Nora’s mine now, not his, and there’s nothing he can do about it.

I look over at Nora, who is pushing her food around on her plate, her eyes glistening with unshed tears that she furiously tries to blink away. I curse myself for my carelessness. My words, designed to hurt Quinn, have also unintentionally caused her pain too. But she just thinks I’ve made a comment that is a little too close to the truth without knowing it. She didn’t tell Max about her father, and she doesn’t know it was me she confided in.

The conversation moves on, and after a while, Dimitri says to Quinn, “The last time we spoke, we discussed the possible union of you and one of our beautiful Russian womento further fortify our bond. Would you care to meet the girl I told you of now?”

“Of course.”

Dimitri nods and one of the men appears with a young girl I recognize, my cousin.

“Quinn, meet Katerina, your bride, should you wish,” Dimitri declares proudly.

Katerina curtseys and smiles genially. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” she says in a sweet, babyish voice.

Quinn’s leering gaze looks her over, a predator sizing up its meal. “The pleasure is all mine, dear Katerina.”

“But she’s only fifteen!” I blurt out, unable to hold back my disgust at the suggestion that such a young girl is being offered to marry a man four times her age.

Dimitri glares at me before addressing Quinn. “She will be sixteen this month. A woman and legally able to marry here in LA with parental consent, which, of course, is freely and gladly given.”

I feel sick. It is a well-known fact that Quinn likes his women—no girls—young. It seems no one here cares, so long as the money keeps flowing. Women are property to be traded and sold as they see fit.

“I would be most honored to be your wife, sir,” Katerina says shyly.

Bile rises to my throat, and I feel the desperate urge to get away, I can’t bear to hear any more. “Excuse me, I need some air,” I growl, standing up abruptly. Nora looks almost asdesperate as me to get away, so I add, “Nora—Norelle,” I quickly correct, “join me?”

I must be the lesser of the evils, as Nora nods gratefully and rises to come with me. We walk to the balcony overlooking the grand gardens of Dimitri’s home where the wedding party is being held. I can hear the jeers and jokes of the young couple being desperate for some alone time.

“God, it’s sick. It makes me sick! She’s a child and they’re going to force her—”

“Force her to marry someone she doesn’t love? Force her to marry a monster?” Nora snaps, her pointed words daggers to my heart. “I might not be a child, but how is this any different? At least she seems happy to marry,” she says bitterly.

“Nora, I’m sorry it had to be like this. I didn’t want…” I struggle to find the words to explain.

“Didn’t want to lie to me? To manipulate me? To make a fool out of me? The whole time you were working forhim.” She says it with such venom I know she’s talking about her father.

“No. Nora, if you’ll just let me explain. You know me.”

“No. I don’t. I knew a lie, and even then, I didn’t want you,” she hisses, coming in close to look me in the eye, to show me how serious she is.

Her words are a dagger through my heart, and then as she rips it still beating from my chest, crushing it under her heel. I want to tell her about me—tell her that I’m her protector. But seeing the hurt in her eyes makes me realize that it might be a betrayal too far. Instead, I’m going to have to make her fall in love with me. Leonid Belyh. Not Max, and not the masked man.

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