Page 84 of Bought to Bear Bratva Heir

I swallowed hard.

"But then, of course, you ran from the hospital." She winked with a low chuckle.

What did she mean I had run from the hospital? I hadn’t run anywhere. Hell, I’d barely been able to move after the surgery.

"Well, that’s what his grandfather told him anyway." Steadily, she met my eyes. "And you died. It was such a tragedy."She rolled her eyes. "He hated you after that. Thinking that you had run from him and Alec."

"Alexander," I corrected her instinctively. "No one but his dad and me calls him Alec."

"Like that matters now. Anyway, he hated you for leaving him. I’ll be honest, he was a bit of a monster for a while after that. Cold. But," the smile fell from her face, "you were still in his heart. He just kept you hidden. Locked away. He kept your clothes, your pictures. Everything." Standing up, she took a deep breath. "You were meant to disappear, Daisy. You were meant to stay dead." Reaching behind her, she pulled a gun and leveled it straight at my head.

I didn’t move; I couldn’t move. Pressed against me, Alec started to cry. And the sound of his terrified sobs finally made my limbs move. Shoving him behind me, I met Marguerite's eyes steadily.

"I thought you were going to make me take the fall?"

I could see it in her eyes, how her plans were unraveling. If I could just keep her talking, maybe I could—well, I don’t know what I would do. Grab at the gun and give Alec a chance to run?

"Well, yes." Her teeth scraped against her bottom lip, staining the white veneers with her lipstick. "But you heard that, didn't you? I know you would go back and make him believe you, and I just can’t have that. I’m sorry." She giggled. "Well, actually, I’m not sorry at all. Ilya was always meant to be mine."

"Why? You don’t love him?"

She scoffed at that. The derision was clear on her face. "No, I don’t love him. But I deserve him. Ilya was promised to me. I was meant to be his woman. The First Lady of the Popovitch empire." She lowered her voice until it was almost a whisper. "And I will be his woman. When you and the brat are out of the way. And make no mistake, Daisy. When he finds his son's body, when he realizes it was you who killed him, then he will finallycome around to me. We will be married." She flashed her giant ring. The thing so big and gaudy it looked fake. "I’ll pop out a few heirs and then," she sighed. "Then Ilya will fall. It might be an accident, or a rival family. But he will die and then—"

I blinked at her slowly. She was giving away her entire plan, and I didn’t think that was a good thing.

"I’ll be in charge of his empire, and I can finally be with the man I do love."

I couldn’t help it; my eyes flicked towards the door. Following my gaze, she frowned.

"Ilya will never believe I killed Alec."

At least I hoped that was true.

"He believes you kidnapped him. I don’t think it will take much to make him believe that you killed your son to get back at him."

Against my back, Alec trembled, his sobs muffled against my spine.

"Yes." She nodded her head, almost like she was making shit up as she went along. "I think he would believe you killed the brat and then placed the gun against your own temple and pulled the trigger. I think I could make that work. I would have preferred he execute you himself. For closure, you know. But I can make this work—"

From the room beyond the closed door, something smashed. Something big, and there was the sound of a scuffle.

Marguerite turned, the gun in her hand wavering for a second as fear crept into her eyes.

"What—" She whirled from the door to me. "Don’t fucking move."

I pushed Alec back, using my body as a shield and spreading my arms wide.

And a gun went off with an almost deafening boom.

Chapter Thirty-One

Ilya

I recognized the man who shot upwards as we came in through the door hard. It took me exactly two seconds to place him. He had been at my engagement party; I had seen him come from the room where the altercation had taken place.

The third second ticked by, and the gun in my hand lifted and put a neat circular hole in the center of his forehead. He was dead before he hit the floor. His eyes staring sightless to the ceiling.

More gunfire erupted around me, but I didn’t flinch. I just stared at him and thought how lucky he was to be dead so quickly.