Page 213 of Toxic Temptation
“I think she’d leave.”
If she found out, the truth wouldn’t just hurt her—it would kill her. If she caught even a glimpse of the kind of depraved filth I let continue under my watch, she’d be gone forever.
I drag my eyes up to Osip. “She’d never forgive me.”
He nods slowly. “Then she doesn’t find out.”
“Can you guarantee that?”
“I can guarantee that I’ll do everything in my power to keep her in the dark. But Kovan—secrets have a way of coming out. Especially in families.”
I think about that word for a while, twisting it around and around in my head.Family.I think of all the things it once meant. All the things it might still mean, if we can find our way out of this bottomless pit.
“She stays protected,” I say finally. “Whatever we do, however we handle Ihor, Vesper doesn’t get dragged into it. She stays in the dark.”
He nods and salutes. “Understood.”
I walk back to the window. The lawn’s been cut. Perfect, neat lines, clean and pure, like they belong to someone else’s life.
Maybe Osip’s right. Maybe secrets are the only way to protect the people we love.
But as I stand there, watching the shadows lengthen across the trimmed grass, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.
Because in my experience, secrets don’t stay buried—they explode.
And when they do, they destroy everything in their path.
73
VESPER
“Cheer up, V!” Charity waves her mimosa at me like it’s a magic wand that’ll somehow improve my sour mood. “Look at us—having brunch at a cute café, acting like normal people with normal lives for once. It’s charming. You should smile.”
I contort my mouth into something resembling a queasy, seasick half-grin. “Better?”
“Oh, so, so much.” She rolls her eyes. “Seriously, though, what’s eating you today? Still obsessing over Luka’s psycho stepfather having secret meetings with your nightmare boss?”
“That was yesterday’s crisis.” I push my untouched eggs Benedict around my plate. “Today, I’m waiting for a friend who’s ghosting me.”
“Ha! You don’t have friends. Except me, obviously. And I’m here. Obviously.”
“I’m talking about Aunt Flo.”
Charity’s fork freezes halfway to her mouth. “Oh. Oh, shit. How late are we talking?”
“A week,” I mumble down into my eggs. “But I’m probably stressing over nothing. I’m on the pill, for goodness’ sake. My cycle’s always been weird anyway.”
“Hypothetically speaking…” Charity leans forward, flashing that mischievous gleam in her eyes that signals trouble. “How would you feel if you wereactuallypregnant?”
“Pissed.”
“Really?”
I hide behind my water glass, but Charity sees everything. She always has.
“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “I never thought I’d have kids. Never really wanted them.”
“Before now, you mean.”
