Page 46 of Cruel Submission

Debra in the east wing. Aleks in the nursery next door, with Fanny. Dr. Harrison’s visits that I schedule when Mirabel is occupied elsewhere. The appointments. The therapy sessions. The careful choreography required to keep Mirabel from stumbling into the truth.

And for what? To protect Debra’s recovery? To give her time to heal before facing her twin?

Or to protect myself from the moment Mirabel realizes I’ve been lying to her face since the night I pulled Debra out of my father’s house?

Both. The answer is both, and that makes me a coward.

I turn from the window and stare at the intercom on my desk. One button. That’s all it would take. Call her up here, close the door, and finally—finally—stop lying to the woman who’s worked her way under my skin in ways I didn’t know were possible.

The decision crystallizes.

It’s time.

I’m going to tell her everything. Debra. Aleks. All of it. Let the cards fall and deal with whatever comes after, because this weight is crushing me, and it’s not a feeling I’m accustomed to.

My finger hovers over the intercom button.

I press it.

“Mirabel, come to my office.”

Static crackles, then her voice filters through—slightly breathless, like she’s been working. “Now?”

“Now.”

I release the button and move behind my desk, needing the barrier. Not for protection—Mirabel’s dangerous in different ways than men with guns—but because if she’s too close when I start talking, I might end up distracted by that beautiful body again.

Footsteps echo in the hallway. Light. Quick. Growing closer.

The door swings open, and she slips inside, still wearing gardening gloves caked with dirt. There’s soil smudged on her cheek, and her hair has given up entirely on whatever style she attempted this morning. She looks young. Unguarded.

Fuck, I don’t want to hurt her. And that’s another feeling I’m not accustomed to.

“You wanted to see me?” She pulls off the gloves, stuffing them in her back pocket.

I open my mouth. The words line up: Your sister is upstairs. I found her five days ago and didn’t tell you. Also, there’s a baby—not mine, perhaps, but he is now.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

My phone erupts.

Not the standard chime. The harsh, grating ring I programmed specifically for Stefan—the one that means drop everything, crisis, emergency, now.

“Chert voz’mi!” The curse rips out before I can stop it. I snatch the phone off my desk. “Can this wait?”

“Nyet.” Stefan’s voice cuts through, clipped and urgent.

Every muscle in my body locks down. “What is it?”

“It’s a crisis. Gavriil is in action.”

Ice floods through my veins even as something hotter rises to meet it—my thirst for battle. The part of me that’s been waiting for this confrontation since I was fifteen years old.

Blyad.

I look at Mirabel. She’s watching me, concern pulling her brows together, and I need her out. Need her safe and away from whatever apocalypse Stefan’s about to drop in my lap.

“Step outside for a moment.” I realize that I’m snapping at her, but there’s no time to soften it. “I need privacy for this call.”