Page 21

Amelia

Dmitri’s back tenses as I step into the living room.

Christian turns his attention to me, his eyes red and glassy like he hasn’t slept in days. His hair is tousled like he’s been pulling at it.

“What’s going on? Christian, are you alright?” I move to stand between them.

Dmitri looks ready to rip Christian’s head off his shoulders. His hands fist tightly at his sides.

“Dmitri?”

“He was just leaving,” Dmitri says through gritted teeth.

“No. Not yet.” Christian wipes a hand over his face. “You need to know something,” he says, eyeing Dmitri as he speaks.

“Amelia, go upstairs,” Dmitri orders.

The gentleness of this morning, of only half an hour ago, is gone. Back now is the ruthless man I met in his office only weeks ago.

How can it only have been a few weeks? It feels like a lifetime has passed between us. At least it did, but now with that hard tone and the steely gaze he levels me with, I’m not sure which reality I was living in.

“No. I want to know what’s happening.” I stand my ground.

Christian is obviously upset. Something’s happened.

“Amelia.” One single word from Dmitri.

Just my name, but it means so much more. It means go upstairs and don’t argue. It means obey me because you vowed to. It means do what I say without thinking for yourself.

“No.” My voice shakes a little, but it’s from irritation, not fear. I’m not afraid of this man.

He may tower over me.

He may have a glare that could scare a saint to confess sinful deeds.

He may still be wearing that thick leather belt I hate to love so much, but I am going to stand on my own two feet.

“I want to know what’s going on, and I want to know now.” I turn my back to my husband, an act he told me men wouldn’t dare. “Christian, what do you need to tell me?”

“It’s about your mom.” Christian’s eyes flick to Dmitri.

Some of the wind has gone out of his sails. His shoulders slump back, and he keeps swallowing.

“What about her?” I fold my arms over my chest.

There’s a long pause. They keep staring at each other; Dmitri with a heated glare and Christian with a plea in his tired eyes.

“She didn’t overdose.” Christian swings his attention to me as he speaks.

“What?” I glance to Dmitri who is still trying to kill Christian with his glare. “What is he talking about?”

A moment later Dmitri turns his glare on me, but there’s less anger and more worry. “If you’ll just go upstairs, I’ll come up and explain everything.”

“Yeah, so he can lie to you again. And he can kill me,” Christian barks, jabbing a finger in Dmitri’s direction.

Dmitri shoots something off in Russian that neither of us understands. But the tone says enough to make Christian take a step back.

Boris and two other men show up, probably after hearing the shouting, and stand ready in the doorway.

Dmitri doesn’t even have to look at them to give them orders. They just stand there, ready to intervene if they need to.

“Okay.” I rub my temples. The banging in my head is returning rapidly. “Okay, everyone just relax. Christian, just tell me what you want to tell me.”

Dmitri makes a low sound, like he’s just about ready to lose his temper.

Christian swallows hard again, looking over my shoulder at the men ready to jump in if needed.

“Don’t worry about them.” I sidestep, putting myself between Christian and the men. “Just tell me what you wanted to tell me. Why do you think she didn’t overdose?”

Christian brings his bloodshot eyes to mine. “Because she didn’t. She and your father got into an argument and he…”

He stops short, takes a deep breath like he needs to ready himself to say the words.

“Your father hurt her. She didn’t accidentally hit her head on the counter.”

For a second, I forget to breathe.

My brain has a lot of other things to do, like figure out what he said. Because I must be putting the words in the wrong order.

“But… I found her. She was on the floor; the pill bottle was empty in the bathroom. She’d… she’d taken too many.” I grab at my throat, willing more air to get in.

“Amelia.” Dmitri steps toward me, but I put a hand out to ward him off.

It’s never worked before, but this time, he stops.

“Your father made it look like that,” Christian continues. “When your dad realized what he’d done, he left the house. But then you came home and found her. You were so young you don’t remember what happened after that. But your dad needed help to cover up what he’d done.”

Christian swings his eyes to Dmitri.

“Dmitri? Did you know?”

His eyebrow arches. “I did.”

My mind reels.

“Yeah, he knew. And he told your father exactly what to do to get away with it. He and his men came in and set up the scene, made any evidence that would point to a murder disappear. And then he forced your brother into business with him as payment.” Spittle forms at the corners of Christian’s mouth.

“Lucas? You said you didn’t force Lucas.”

“I didn’t. Your father suggested the arrangement when he realized he would owe a favor. Our help didn’t come free.” He speaks like he has nothing to be ashamed of. “He suggested Lucas use his real estate investment company to help us with a cash flow problem we were having. It was new at the time; Lucas had only been open a year. Lucas agreed, so long as you never found out the truth.”

When he says the last statement, he turns to Christian.

“But Christian tells you now, not out of friendship, but out of blackmail. He’s desperate for money and thought hurting you was the best way to get into my wallet.”

A gun clicks behind me, and I turn a little to see all three of his men, holding their weapons.

“I don’t believe you.” I exchange looks between them both. “I don’t believe either of you.”

Stepping away from them, I bump into a table. A vase of flowers falls to the floor, water spills onto the carpet.

“You’re lying,” I say again, trying desperately to cling to a reality I’ve lived for decades.

“Amelia.” Dmitri walks toward me.

“No. Just… give me a minute. I need a minute.” I turn on my heel and run from the room, past his men with their guns, and past Maria who stands at the foot of the stairs with a cup of coffee in her hand.

All of the boxes from Lucas’ office are in the spare bedroom. There was a file folder with my mother’s name on it that I hadn’t looked at, thinking it was probably just old records for her.

I rip off the cover of the first file box, but don’t find it. It’s in the third box I look in, sitting right on top, just staring up at me.

Opening the file, her death certificate is the first document, but I slide it onto the floor to get what’s behind it. The autopsy report has a big red stamp on it that reads Original Copy. My eyes fly over the words, the findings of contusions all over her body, and the horrible truth.

She had no drugs in her system. No alcohol either. Cause of death reads blunt trauma to the head.

I sink to the floor, my knees hitting the carpet as I shove the report out of the file and the photographs are there.

“Amelia.” Dmitri’s voice echoes behind me, but it’s as though he’s standing on the other side of a dimension.

He’s not in this world with me.

This world is shattered and broken.

The bruises.

There are so many bruises on my mother’s shoulders, and chest, and arms. A red handprint on her throat stands out like a huge arrow pointing at the truth.

My father killed my mother.

“Amelia.” Hands rest on my shoulders, and through watery eyes I flip through the photographs.

“You made this all disappear, but Lucas kept it,” I sigh, wiping away the tears before they can fall.

“Lucas wanted something to be able to hold over your father’s head. It was a way to protect you. Everything Lucas did was to protect you.”

“He got into business with the mafia so I wouldn’t find out the truth about my mother’s death?” I look back at the photos. “Because he didn’t want me to know about this?”

“Your brother wanted you safe from this, yes.” Dmitri takes the photos and the file, closing the folder.

“And then he made me marry you?” I push to my feet. “Because that did what? Completed the payment they owed you for covering up the murder?”

He shakes his head. “No. That had nothing to do with it.”

I huff. “And I should believe you? All this time you knew my mother didn’t overdose, that what I’d walked in on was a murder scene and you didn’t tell me.”

“Your brother wanted you never to find out.”

“Yeah? Well, my brother is dead!” I yell at him. “He’s dead. He died and left me here with… with… you!”

“He did what he thought was best for you.”

“He left me to live with the man who murdered my mother. And then he left me to be married to the man who helped cover it up. How was any of that best for me?”

After Mom died, Dad withdrew from me. It wasn’t that he grew meaner, he actually softened a little. But he wasn’t really there, even when he was.

“Lucas tried to make your father let you live with him, but he refused. The only way Lucas could have managed it is if he used this against him.” Dmitri lifts the folder. “But if he’d done that, you would have found out the truth.”

“And marrying you?”

His confidence wanes. “To protect our business arrangement without having to involve you in it.”

Again, I laugh.

“You’re nothing but a criminal who lies and steals and kills.” I look at the door. “Christian.”

“He’s fine.” Dmitri grabs my arm when I start to head out. “He won’t be killed. You have my word.”

I yank out of his grasp.

“Your word doesn’t mean anything to me. Just leave me alone.” I hurry from the room, unsure if I can remain steady if he touches me the way he usually does when I’m upset.

If he holds me, or kisses me, or brushes my hair from my face, I might crumble.

And I can’t.

I can’t depend on him.

I’ve been so stupid letting myself fall into his strength, letting my heart soften to him.

And even dumber for falling in love with him.