“Dante and I are going home,” I explain. “But when we get back to the mansion, you’re going to leave.” She tries to pull her hand away, but I snatch her wrist. “Don’t wake up Dante and cause a scene. This will be easier if he stays asleep.”
Her eyes flick from our son to me and back again. She shakes her head. “You aren’t going to make me leave. You just saved me. Twice.”
“Anatoly wanted to save you.” It’s not a lie; it’s just not the entire truth.
I told Anatoly to save her, but admitting that doesn’t change what needs to happen.
“He wouldn’t have helped me escape without your permission,” she protests. “You don’t want me to die, Mikhail.”
“I may not want you to die, but that doesn’t mean I want you,” I lie through my teeth, every word ripping out of me in burning agony. “I thought b
