I push him off me, hating that I ever felt an ounce of anything for him. Remorse, lust, I’m disappointed by them all.
He’s a murderer.
A cheat.
He doesn’t deserve to get his daughter back.
When I say that to Dimitri, he gets up in my face in an instant. He pins me to a blood-splattered wall, towering over me like he’s seconds from crashing my windpipes with his bare hands. “I should kill you where you stand.”
“Then do it,” I snarl in his face, my fear non-existent. “Kill me like you’ve threatened time and time again. Drain the blood from my veins and parade my dead carcass like you are my father’s so your enemies will see you as a real man.” The way I spit out the last half of my sentence reveals I think he’s anything but a man. “But remember, no matter what you do, and no matter what you say, one thing will never change. I’m someone’s daughter. I’m someone’s Fien, so when Karma responds to what you’ve done, you better pray she doesn’t gnaw the wrong ass.”
Dimitri leans into me deeper, fully stilling me. His large, teaming-with-anger body isn’t solely responsible for my frozen state, though. It’s the words he screams into my face, “He cut my daughter out of my wife’s stomach! He held her like she was a fucking animal. He deserved to die!”
When he shoves a freshly printed piece of paper into my face, my stomach heaves. I feel like I’m drowning like my worst nightmare is coming true. The image of my father sitting lifeless in a pool of blood is horrific, but this is ten times worse.
Not only does Dimitri have undeniable proof my father was a part of the backyard operation to remove his daughter from his wife’s stomach, he has evidence I was there too.
* * *