Page 21 of His Prince (Unexpectedly Twisted #2)

19

ANGEL

“ P sst,” Bane whispers from behind a plant in the garden. Jake follows my line of sight and then looks at me with a sideways grin, and I shrug.

Weird, I sign and Jake nods his head in agreement.

“I can totally see you. You know that, right?” I call out.

Bane places a finger up to his lips and shakes his head. “Shh. And I’m wearing camo. You can’t actually see me. Just my illusion, Angelo.”

I roll my eyes as I stand up, brushing my pants free of the dirt that’s slowly seeping through the knees and wince when I feel the twinge in my ass.

So fucking good. I can’t wait for tonight. I want to face him this time, want to trace his wicked mouth with my fingertips, imagining my lips moving on his.

Bane waves his hand toward me in urgency and starts bouncing on his feet, so I pick up the pace, his eyes darting this way and that as I approach. “What is it? ”

He grabs on to me and pulls me behind the bush and then reaches down and hands me a rusted box.

“Your husband is keeping secrets, Angelo.”

The weight of the box in my hands almost seems unbearable as my stomach churns. “What is this?”

“I might have taken a long look through it,” he says with a grin and then touches the broken lock. “I found it hidden in the wall of his bedroom. It’s a woman’s.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh . Who is she and why is her box hidden in the walls?”

“I don’t know. I know nothing, Bane.”

He perks up, his eyes shining mischievously. “Want me to saw him in half? I can do that.”

“No. No. I just need to figure this out. Thank you. I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing. Except maybe a kiss.”

I eye him and he grins, puckering his lips.

“I’m not kissing you, Bane.”

“Come on. Just one. I’ve always wondered.”

Gently, I shove him back and then head to the greenhouse with the box tucked under my arm. As soon as the door closes behind me, I set the box down and stare at it, unsure if I want to open Pandora’s box.

I shouldn’t , I tell myself, and yet my fingers pry the box open.

It cracks and groans as it opens, a long-awaited yawn, and I stare down into it. Photographs, stained and dusty stare up at me, as well asa few dried flowers and some folded letters. I pull those back and see two vials with something inside of each.

“What the hell?” I ask, picking up the photo and seeing a beautiful woman staring back at me with a smile on her face. Big blue eyes, straight black hair, and full pink lips. She looks like a supermodel.

I flip it over and see the name Katarina written on it and a date. Fifteen years ago.

I set it down and pull up another. This time it’s a photo of Katarina and another man. Someone I don’t recognize. Someone just as handsome as Mikhail and who looks at her like he just realized what love is.

What must that be like?

I continue to poke around, pulling out more photos and then holding those vials up to the light. I need to ask someone about this. And for some reason, my gut tells me not to ask Mikhail.

Just as I think that my phone rings and I glance down at it, seeing Tatum’s name appear on my screen.

I quickly place the box down and answer.

“Hey! Oh my god, I’ve missed you.”

“Not too much, I hope. Not with the honeymoon and everything.”

I swallow and force a smile onto my face. “Yeah, but I miss you guys. How are you?”

“Great, and you?”

“So good.”

It’s not as much a lie as it was a week ago.

“I’m so glad. I was just calling because, well, your dad has it in his head that we need to visit. We’re actually on a plane right now.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Yeah. I am. I can’t wait to see you, to see your home, to squeeze you.”

“Oh my god,” I gasp and then flutter my hand around my face before settling it under my armpit.

“Okay, I’ll have rooms ready for you. I…oh my god.”

“And Diablo and Skylar are on their way as well. Although, they’re coming from Wales so who knows who’ll get there first.”

“Diablo,” I nearly squeal. My twin. My brother.

I could cry. I could burst into tears right now.

On the other end of the line I can hear Tatum laughing softly, and I can’t help but grin. When I get off the phone with him, I grab a picture from that rusty box and stuff it in my pants pocket. Then I take care to hide the box in the back of the greenhouse, not wanting anyone to find it, before rushing into the house. I’m going to ask Nina about who this woman is and then make sure that the guest rooms are ready for my family.

Oh my god. I’m going to see my dad. My brother. Tatum.

I nearly skip into the house and shout for anyone who’s willing to listen.

They’re coming. My heart is so fucking full. I could burst.

The picture sits forgotten in my pocket until I see Nina in one of the guest rooms, a hamper near her feet and a vacuum sprawled in the corner.

“Hey, Nina?” I ask as she makes up one of the beds.

She frowns at me and then points to the sheets bunched up near her. “Help me with this while you chatter. We have unexpected guests and I won’t have their rooms unkempt.”

I nod, reaching into my pocket and pulling the picture out. Her eyes catch on it and they narrow.

“I found this and was wondering who it is.” I set the picture on the mattress and she freezes, her face paling. I’ve never seen this expression on her and it makes my stomach churn, bile working its way up my throat.

This isn’t good.

“What? What is it?” I ask, almost breathless. I don’t like this. Not at all. Part of me doesn’t want to know, but the other does. It roars with the need to know.

“Put that away. Burn it,” she hisses, her voice cracking.

“Nina. Please tell me. Who is it?”

Now I need an answer. I can’t let this lie.

“No one and you best forget it.”

“I—I can’t. Nina,” I say, staring at the picture and clutching at my stomach.

But she ignores me, continuing to work on putting the sheets on the bed without even looking my way. The picture is discarded, so I pick it up, almost gingerly.

“Who is she?” I whisper.

But my question sinks into the corners of the room and disappears. Nina just murmurs something in Russian and then stalks out of the room without a backward glance.

My eyes follow her, and I swallow roughly. People are keeping secrets. I filter through who else to ask, Mikhail not even entering my mind.

I wonder if the bodyguards will tell me and then shake my head. I don’t want them to feel as if their loyalties are torn. And then my mind lands on someone.

Yes. Him.

I know who will talk.

“That’s Katarina,” Ivan says, a snickerdoodle hanging from his mouth.

“Yes, but who is she?”

He shrugs, taking another large bite, crumbs falling onto his shirt. “Mikhail’s wife. Dead wife.”

My entire body locks up, and I find it hard to breathe.

“He never told me he had a wife. Or that she died.”

He huffs and adjusts his glasses. “Probably because of how she died. Terrible. Quite awful.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, and Ivan shrugs. “She deserved it. All of it. Good riddance.”

My eyes widen and I cross my arms over my stomach. “How did she die?”

He runs a thumb across his throat, and the room spins.

“Who killed her?”

“Mikhail.”

My fingers clench the chair in front of me, and I gag slightly.

“That can’t be true.”

Ivan takes another snickerdoodle from the container and takes a large bite. “It is. It happened years ago.”

“Where?”

I envision it, Mikhail slicing his sobbing wife’s neck. Was it in our bedroom? In the bathroom? The shower?

“The garden.”

That’s even worse. Those two words have me sinking to the ground and placing my head between my legs.

“Oh god.”

“Do not be so dramatic. Like I said, she deserved it.”

“She was his wife.”

He snorts and then chokes, probably from inhaling the crumbs of the cookie, but I can’t even focus on anything right now. I knew what I was getting into, marrying a mafia man, but I didn’t realize the man I married was evil. A different kind of monster.

I breathe deeply through my nose and out through my mouth, trying to get myself moving. My dad should be here any moment. My brother. They can’t see me like this. They can never know.

My mind whirls as I push myself up, Ivan forgotten as I slip from the room, avoiding everyone. I find my way to an unused guest room and slide down the wall, letting my mind reel from this information as I pull my knees up to my chest. I pull out the picture of Katarina and stare at her, those big blue eyes, that beautiful face.

“Did you really deserve it?” I ask her, but she doesn’t respond. Just continues to stare back at me.

I tuck her away and lean my head against the wall, trying like hell to figure out what to do. What the hell do I do?

All I know is I need to get out of this marriage contract before I meet the same fate. Because if Mikhail could kill his own wife, I’m not safe.