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Avenge :Romanian Mob Chronicles(114)



“Why aren’t you with Father?” he asked.

“I’m no longer his nurse. I’m sure you’ll find someone suitable to replace me.”

“You’ve seen him. I don’t think he’ll need a nurse for too much longer,” he said nonchalantly.

“Sorry you’re so broken up about your father’s impending demise,” I replied, disgusted but somehow not surprised by how uncaring he seemed.

He just smiled, shook his head. “Circle of life and all that. Besides, my father was never sentimental. Except with Anton. Is he the one who suggested you move on?”

I saw no reason to lie. “He thought it would be better if I found something else,” I said blandly.

“That’s a surprise. But I suppose he got what he was looking for. It’s for the best, anyway. This life isn’t for everyone. He probably did you a favor.”

“What life?” I asked, the last few shreds of common sense leaving me.

He just smirked. “You’re not very good at playing stupid, Lily.”

It was the first time he had said my name, and I hated it instantly, his voice reminiscent of Anton’s, but rather than the joy his had come to fill me with, the sound of my name on Christoph’s lips made me shudder with revulsion.

Biting back the bile that threatened to choke me, I said, “I’m in a bit of a hurry. Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Constantin?”

“No. I actually came to do something for you.”

I tilted my head, gestured for him to continue.

“There was a certain responsibility that came with your position. I assume you were aware of that.”

I said nothing, and long moments stretched between us. Then, all of a sudden, Christoph’s facade dropped completely. “Anton likes you, or liked you, so I was trying to be nice. But if you’re not interested in that, I’ll cut to the chase.”

“Please do,” I said.

“Watch your mouth, bitch. I’m not as nice as him.”

“You were cutting to the chase,” I said, some wild, reckless thing pushing me to speak when reason said I should be quiet.

He was on me in a flash, hands tight around my arms, squeezing my flesh in a punishing hold. The bite of pain made me want to cry out, but pride kept me silent.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he said on a low, almost animalistic growl, flecks of spittle spraying my face.

“I have some idea,” I said, my own voice equally low, equally animalistic.

He narrowed his eyes, gaze searching my face as if looking for something. “Who are you?” he said, punctuating the question with an even tighter grip.

“You don’t recognize me?”

“Should I?”

“I guess not. What about Braden? Would you recognize him? No. You wouldn’t. Not after the way you left him,” I said, tears of rage making my voice almost unintelligible.

He scratched his face, as if in deep thought. “Braden…?”

“Yes, Braden.”

I stared at him, saw the blank look on his face, and thought my heart would beat out of my chest.

“You don’t remember him? Not even after you left him to die?”

“Braden,” he said. Then, finally, realization sparked in his eyes. “I remember Braden now. He was beautiful, positively stunning. I used to think about him.”

“Used to…?” I asked, my mind unwilling to accept the words, his apparent lack of concern. My voice broke, the shock, his nonchalance, making it almost impossible for me to speak.

“Yeah. Shame how that ended.”

“Shame…?”

“Father was furious about that for months,” he said.

I wrenched away from his grasp, looked at him with my mouth hanging open. His eyes widened when he glanced to me, and then narrowed. “How do you know him?” he asked, going solemn in an instant.

“He is my brother, was my brother before you got your hands on him,” I said.

“He’s still alive?”

“No, not his mind. But his body is,” I said.

“Don’t speak in riddles!” he snapped.

“I can’t speak in anything else. You were the last one to see him. You were the one who broke him. You tell me, then, Christoph, what happened? How did my brother leave me alive and come back like he was? Why did you leave him to die?”

As I’d spoken, I’d stepped closer and closer and was now face-to-face with him, or as face-to-face as I could be given the difference in our heights. He shrank back, and for a fleeting moment something that could have been remorse crossed his face. But it was short-lived, maybe even something I’d imagined. Because in the next blink, his smug, self-satisfied, completely detached expression was back.