Mikhail
"We have to kill her," Anastasia said, pacing back and forth in my study like a caged predator. The morning sun streamed through the windows, but it did nothing to warm the ice in my veins.
I'd barely slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Liliana's face when I told her to leave. The pain, the betrayal, the way her love had turned to bitter disappointment right before my eyes.
"No," I said firmly, not looking up from the whiskey glass in my hands. It was my fourth one since dawn, but the alcohol wasn't helping. Nothing was helping.
"She's a liability, Mikhail. She knows too much, she's unstable, and she'll never stop trying to destroy this family."
"She's still family," I said, though the words felt like ash in my mouth.
"Family?" Anastasia stopped pacing and stared at me.
