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“My father had a friend,” she says, her voice quiet. Controlled. Too controlled. “He was old and gross. He had a reputation for hurting women. Easily twenty years older than me. And when I found out my father promised me to him, I ran.” She swallows hard. “That was the first time.”

She stops and closes her eyes for a second. I hold her hand, pushing beyond the need to hear everything now. “He caught me.”

Her voice is flat. Devoid of emotion. That makes it so much worse.

“He said he wouldn’t have an ungrateful brat for a wife. So he had his men… beat me.”

My hands clench into fists. The room feels too small, the air too thick. “They laid me down. Kicked me. Broke my ribs. Stomped on my abdomen.” She exhales shakily. I blink to clear the red in my vision. “Two black eyes. A busted lip. Four broken ribs.” A pause. “I didn’t know I sustained those until my father brought me to a doctor a month later because he was sick of waking up to the sound of my coughing.”

I can’t fucking breathe.

This is the only time in my life I remember wishing that someone was still alive only so that I could have the privilege of killing them all over again.

She doesn’t react, just stares past me as if she’s still locked in that room. “My father said I was an ungrateful little bitch, and I deserved what I got.”

Something inside mesnaps.My vision tunnels. The entire world narrows to her.

“So after I healed,” she says bitterly, “he arranged to give me to someone else.”

I force the words through gritted teeth. “Rafail. Who was the man who hurt you?”

She looks away.

"Who was it?" I growl.

"I don’t remember."

She’s lying.

Why the fuck is she covering for them?

I step closer, my voice a razor’s edge. "You know I’ll find out. There’s no point in lying to me."

She still won’t look at me.

"Anissa."

Nothing.

Then finally, so quietly, it almost doesn’t reach me, “I’m not worth starting a battle over, Matvei.”

The laugh that escapes me is dark and vicious.

I kneel on the bed beside her, grip her chin, and force her to look at me.

"That’s where you’re wrong," I murmur. "You’re worth the fucking war."

Her eyes fill with tears, and she tries to blink them away.

She fails.

"Why me?" she whispers.

I give her the simplest answer because I don’t want to tell her how much she means to me.

"Because you’re mine."

I pause.