Heart of the Devil (The Forge Trilogy #3)(9)

Disbelief settles over me like a cold shroud, and my mouth drops open into an o. The beats of my heart come slower, pounding in my ears. My tongue sticks to my teeth as my mouth goes dry.

Nina was the name we were never supposed to call my mother, for a reason she never explained.

“What do you mean . . . Nina wasn’t my mother?”

Federov bares his teeth and looks skyward, hauling in a deep breath that expands his barrel-like chest. He holds it for a moment before releasing it and focusing on me once more.

“Your mother, Irina, passed away a week before that bitch took you. Nina wanted to leave me with nothing after I cast her out.”

I press my dry lips together and try to make sense of what the hell he’s saying. It’s not the thick accent making him difficult to comprehend, but an entire life’s worth of lies.

“Who . . . who was Nina then?” Nina wasn’t my mother. My breathing turns shallow as I grapple with the truth.

His nostrils flare like a bull sighting a red cape. “My mistress, to my lifelong regret.”

Oh. My. God.

The heartbeat thudding in my ears grows louder. The woman I’ve always thought was my mother . . . was my father’s mistress. Which means . . .

Summer isn’t my sister.

I stare at him, stricken with the realization. “She . . .” I try to form a sentence, but I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to say. What to think. What to feel.

How is this possible? This can’t be possible.

But there’s no sign that Federov is deceiving me. He watches me as I open my mouth again and again, probably gaping like a fish. Finally, he takes pity on me and explains.

“Nina was a vengeful woman, and I will never be able to beg your forgiveness for what I let happen. You were vulnerable because of me, Illyana. It was my fault she took you. But I have never stopped searching for you, even after they told me you were dead.”

The room spins around me as I grapple with his confession. Goliath claps a hand on my shoulder to stop me from tipping over.

“Illyana, please. Sit down. You are . . . pale.” Federov’s rugged features shift to concerned.

I’ve been wrestling with this changing reality since finding out that I have a father, but this . . . this is more than I can handle.

My breathing continues to quicken, and I force it to slow. Focus, Indy. Focus on what matters—Jericho. Everything else can wait.

The only thing I care about right now is getting my husband back safely. I take all the information—about my father, his mistress, and my sister—and I shove it into a little box deep inside me and slam the lid shut. Straightening my shoulders, I meet my father’s blue gaze, which looks uncannily like mine. No. Don’t think about that.

I lift my chin higher. “I need your help. Jericho was taken. I need you to help me get him back.” I’m proud my statements come out sounding authoritative rather than trembling like my hands as I clench them into fists.

Federov’s lips press together in a hard line, and for a moment, I fear he won’t agree. He’s not allowed to say no.

“Before you say anything, you should know this—if you want any hope of a relationship with me, you will help me right now. If you don’t, then this moment is all you’ll ever have to remember me by, because I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again.”

His chin lifts in a gesture that mimics my own, like he’s not used to taking orders or being given ultimatums.

Too bad, Dad. I don’t have time to waste, and if you don’t help me, I’ll find another way.

“And if I help get Forge back for you . . . you will spend time with me? Let me get to know the woman who is my daughter?”

There’s nothing I wouldn’t promise to get Forge back, but I have to know he’s sincere.

“You get one shot with me. Don’t make me regret this.”

I wonder if I should feel bad about my ruthless request, but I can’t summon the feelings necessary for that. This day has been a roller coaster of emotions, and the only way I’ll be able to sleep again someday without nightmares about what I saw today is with Jericho by my side.

They say you don’t truly appreciate what you have until it’s gone, and every vibrating nerve in my body tells me that I’m not prepared to lose my husband. Not now. Not when I’ve finally admitted to myself that I’m in love with him. And the thought of being doomed to living a life without him . . . I couldn’t bear it.

“Please,” I say as my father watches me in silence. “Please help me.”

“It will be done,” Federov says with a sharp nod.

He turns to a man beside him, one I hadn’t even bothered to look at, and barks out something in Russian. The pale blond replies and disappears from the doorway. In the hallway, I can hear the echo of him speaking to someone on the phone.

“We will leave now,” Federov says. “This neighborhood is not safe enough for you. I have somewhere else we can go. It is much more comfortable.”

I glance up at Goliath and study the hard line of his jaw. He’s staring at my father, not at me. I nudge him with an elbow to get his attention.

“Are you good with that?” I ask.

Goliath’s dark gaze cuts from my father to me. “Forge would want you as safe as possible.”

“And that is one thing we will always agree on,” my father says.