Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(11)

His question catches me off guard and shakes my compartmentalization enough to let the shock from earlier sweep over me. I’ve been reunited with my long-lost father, learned my mother wasn’t my mother, my sister isn’t my sister, and we’re awaiting news about my kidnapped husband with my almost-murdered bodyguard.

What I really want to do is curl up on the couch and indulge in a good long cry, but that’s not going to help anything. Besides, I won’t let myself shed a tear in front of these people. I refuse to show any weakness.

Shoving all those feelings back, I reply with a clipped, “Sure.”

Federov reaches into his jacket pocket and withdraws a battered leather wallet. He flips it open and pulls out a photograph with tattered edges that looks like he’s been carrying it for decades.

His crony returns with a tray and sets two shot glasses and waters on the glass-topped table between us before passing a bottled water to Goliath. Over the drinks, Federov holds out the picture.

As soon as my stare locks on the photo, I reach for the whiskey and toss back the entire shot with one gulp.

Holy shit. She looks just like me.

“Oh my God,” I whisper, my hand shaking as I reach to take it from him.

“You are her image. She was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and so kind. Much too kind for a man like me.”

I look up at his self-deprecating words and read the pain and regret in his gaze. “Because you had a mistress.”

“Yes. Irina deserved a prince among men, but she fell in love with a brute. I was too selfish to try to change her mind.”

“What . . . what happened to her?” I choke on the question and snatch the water to wash down the lump in my throat.

“Cancer. We caught it much too late. She was too young to be taken, or so I thought. I would have given everything to save her, but there was no time. She faded before my eyes in mere weeks.”

“How could you have cheated on her if you loved her so much?”

His remorseful expression hardens. “I told you, I did not deserve Irina. I have accepted my punishment for over two decades. My penance is not one I would wish on any other man. But still, I repented too late.”

“And my . . .” I swallow and stop myself from saying mother. “Nina . . . she took me from you.”

“Yes.” His reply is clipped as he reaches for a shot glass of clear liquid that I assume is vodka.

“You thought I was dead.”

His mouth tenses as he presses the glass to it, and he gives me a nod before tossing it back.

“How would you know that? What made you think that?”

Federov’s gaze drops and his jaw rocks from side to side. “We found Nina. Many years ago. She swore you were dead. The circumstances under which she swore made me believe she was telling the truth.”

My lower lip trembles as I listen to what he’s not saying. They found her. Took her. And . . . “How did you make her talk? Did you . . . torture her?” Another image I don’t want to picture.

Federov’s gaze shifts to the window where streetlights illuminate the hard lines of his face. “She stole the only thing left that mattered to me. She deserved no mercy.” His blue gaze comes back to me. “But she lied even then, and I left you with no one to care for you at all.”

His regret is impossible to miss in the emotion-drenched words.

“Not for long. Alanna found us, and she was more of a mother to me than I had ever known. I will never approve of what you did, but I can’t say I wouldn’t do some unforgivable things to help find Jericho faster.”

The older man’s shoulders relax, and he looks like I’ve given him a stay of execution. But really, I’m focusing on the only thing I care about right now. Where are you, Jericho? Come back to me.

The burn of the whiskey turns to heat in my belly.

“When will we hear something?” I ask. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing.”

Federov points to the blond man. “When we hear something, his phone will ring. We must be patient.”

Patient is the last thing I want to be, but what other choice do I have?

Taking a slow breath to calm my racing heart, I decide to use this time to find answers to the questions that have been plaguing me. “How did you know I was alive? What made you start looking again if you thought I was dead?”

Goliath shifts behind me, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s growing weaker, or if he’s just as interested in hearing the answer as I am.

Federov lifts his glass in the air over his shoulder, and the bald goon disappears for a moment and returns with a bottle of vodka to splash another measure into it. My father tips it back like he’s drinking water. When he replaces it on the table with a click, he meets my gaze.

“Your . . . Summer.” He almost said sister but changed his mind at the last minute.

No. I’m not going to let him take that from me.

“My sister, you mean.” I sit up straighter on the sofa as I correct him. “Because that’s exactly what she is. It doesn’t matter if we don’t share blood. That’s not what makes someone family. Family is being there for each other and never walking away. Family means sacrificing for one another.”

A muscle ticks in Federov’s jaw. “Your family is fond of using your name to get ahead.”