40Yulia
Lucas’s kiss holds an edge of anger, his lips and tongue punishing as he invades my mouth, and fear-tinged arousal heats my core, adding to my turmoil.
The man I love is killing my former colleagues, and it’s all my fault. If I hadn’t let Lucas break me that time, if he hadn’t come after me, none of this would be happening. Rationally, I understand there were other factors at play—Obenko’s ill-advised attack on Esguerra’s plane, for one—but I still feel responsible for the current mess.
If my brother’s adoptive family dies, it’ll be on me.
It doesn’t help that underneath the crushing press of guilt, I’m not entirely sorry. Somewhere along the way, a root of hatred had taken hold within me, and I didn’t know it until Lucas brought up Kirill’s name. I’d suppressed all thoughts of
