Chapter 28: Little Liar: Chapter 28

The dress drags on the ground as I walk through the main entrance to the party I’m being forced to attend. Violins and other instruments play, a sing-song voice echoing in the air as Xander holds me to his side, then pulls me through the crowds to find his parents and their friends.

My head hurts—I’ve had a headache since I was escorted from the bedroom to a dressing room, where a red dress waited for me. It’s too big for me. There’s a clip at my chest to hold the fabric together because the stylist didn’t want to tell Igor I’d lost too much weight to wear it.

Igor told me to keep my head down the entire party, but since I have nothing else to do, I sometimes lift it and look around, hunting for familiar faces—potentially someone with black hair, tattoos, and a bat to hand. He’d bounce through the crowd and smack everyone on the head, throw me over his shoulder, and get me the hell out of this nightmare.

My reality is that I don’t recognize a single soul.

Igor and Xander converse in Russian then laugh together. I’m led to a booth, and I flinch as Xander rests his hand on my thigh, grips it, then squeezes tighter when I try to pull it off.

“Is she behaving yet?” Igor asks. “Or do we need to take harsher measures?”

“She’s getting there. She’s following orders and knows how to get on her knees when told.”

I gulp at his lie. Why is he lying to his father?

Igor hums. “And you still haven’t fucked her?”

“Not yet. Like I said, we’re getting there.”

“That’s an issue. But then again, we still need her to marry you.”

If there’s a window nearby, I might throw myself out of it—what could be worse than this? Nothing. Nothing is worse than this situation.

“Maybe I should be the one to put another heir in her. You could pretend the child is yours,” Igor offers, and every drop of my blood runs cold.

“No need,” Xander grits out. “I’m capable of doing it myself.”

Igor hums in disapproval. Then he starts speaking in Russian again. I don’t know what they’re saying, but Xander’s hold on my thigh softens—and then vanishes as he checks his phone discreetly.

His father goes to talk to someone else, drawing his attention away from us, and I feel Xander’s lips against my ear. “Tell me you need to use the bathroom. Make sure he can hear you.”

“Why?”

“Trust me,” he whispers.

“I have no reason to trust you,” I hiss.

He rolls his eyes then looks at his father, who’s still in deep conversation. “Just fucking ask me, unless you enjoy being manacled to my family?”

My lips part as I search for any dishonesty on his face.

Then I clear my throat and say loud enough for Igor to hear, “I need to pee.”

Igor chuckles as he glances over. “Take your future wife to the bathroom, son.”

He nods, and I walk with him through the crowd, his fingers wrapped around my wrist. We go downstairs, following the signs for the bathrooms, but take a sharp right down a narrow cold corridor.

“Where are we going?” I ask, my voice shaking as my steps falter.

“I made a promise to someone that I’d get you out.” He pulls open a door to the back alley, where two shadows are waiting. “I kept my promise,” he says to one of them.

I frown. I’m about to ask him what he means when he shoves me outside. Right into someone’s arms.

Abigail’s arms.

“Olivia!” she cries, hugging me tightly as the door slams behind me. She buries her head into my shoulder and sobs. “Oh my God. I was so worried. Xan said he was going to make sure you were okay, but I didn’t believe him. I’m sorry it took so long.”

Disbelief runs through me. My friend isn’t here, hugging me, is she? Am I dreaming? Did they drug my drink? Is this all a hallucination? I blink a few times, but my best friend is still holding me. She feels warm against my cold skin, comfortable, and I fold my arms around her to embrace her back.

The rock is still in my chest, but it’s lighter.

I won’t feel relief until I’m with them. My family.

“Did they hurt you?” she questions.

“Isolated me more than anything,” I respond, no tears falling as I unravel my arms from her. “I’m fine.”

“This is a lovely reunion.”

I turn, freezing when I see Xander’s cousin. The other Russian who doesn’t really sound Russian. Sebastian Prince stands with his foot against the wall, smoking what I assume is a joint.

“Howdy, little Vize. You look like shit.”

I rub my arms in the bitter cold. “What’s going on?”

He throws his hands out. “Xander arranged with Adryx to get you out here. It’s my job to get you to your father. This one wanted to tag along.” He gestures to Abigail. “A car will be here any moment.”

I want to cry—tears are building behind my eyes, but they don’t fall. I won’t feel safe until I’m in my father’s or Malachi’s arms.

“Is Malachi alive?”

“Kind of.”

My heart crashes. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll know when you see him. Don’t want to traumatize you any further. Did any of my dear family members hurt you?” he asks even though Abbi already did, tipping his head and blowing out poisonous smoke into the air. “You’re a lot thinner than before. Did they not feed you?”

I crush my teeth together, a tear finally slipping free. “Is my brother okay?”

Sebastian flicks the joint away and blows the last cloud of smoke out. “Why do you call him that?”

“Answer the question.”

“It’s likely he’ll live. He’s in a coma.”

I cover my mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Give her more than that, for fuck’s sake, Base.” Abigail shakes her head. “He’s not in critical condition anymore.”

Sebastian glares at her for a long second then shifts his gaze to me. “He punctured a lung when he was stabbed and was shot in the chest. The bullet missed his heart by two inches. But he lost a lot of blood and had some complications.”

Oh God. Malachi.

I swallow hard. “My dad?”

“He hasn’t left Malachi’s side.”

I take a deep breath. “And my sister?”

“Is that the chatty one? She’s fine. She tried to put a damn spider on my face while I was asleep on the sofa. I wanted to beat the shit out of her, but I didn’t think my father-in-law would’ve approved.” He then beams. “I’m trying to convince him I’m enough for his daughter by being a good guy.”

“You’re married to someone else,” Abbi adds.

“That’s irrelevant.”

I’m starting to think he fits in well with how psychotic the Reznikov family are. He’s a bit unhinged, and that’s putting it mildly.

“Is my brother in hospital then?”

“No, we have a safe house with private doctors. And please stop calling him your brother. That’s like my best friend fucking my girlfriend.”

“Are they siblings?”

“Twins,” he confirms.

“Me and Malachi aren’t related. We just grew up together.”

He raises a brow. “Do you call him your brother while he’s fucking you?”

I close my mouth, crossing my arms to look away.

I hear him fake a gag.

Abigail huffs. “Stop being dramatic,” she scolds him. “They aren’t really brother and sister, so there’s nothing wrong with them being together.”

That’s the first time she’s ever defended our relationship. I want to hug her.

“Well, despite his choice of fuck buddy, he’s a good-looking guy.”

I chew my lip in annoyance. This guy is insufferable. “He’s my boyfriend, not a fuck buddy.”

“Does he swing both ways?”

I turn back to stare at him, confused. “What?”

“Hmm.” He laughs, thinking to himself, then checks his watch and huffs that they’re still not here. “If I didn’t have a girlfriend, I reckon I’d fuck him.”

My stare turns deadly.

He laughs again. “Possessive? Or are you genuinely scared I could steal your brother from you?” Then he grimaces. “Fuck, now you even have me calling him that. Change the damn subject.”

“Leave her alone,” Abigail snaps. “I think if you—”

The door flies open to reveal Xander, looking worried. “They know. We have a rat. Get back inside, Olivia.” His gaze lifts to Sebastian. “Your driver was shot five minutes ago. They don’t know who’s working on the outside.” Xander looks at Abbi. “Get her fucking out of here, Base.”

He swears to himself and grabs Abigail. “Sorry, little Vize.”

“Why can’t we take her with us now?”

“It’s too risky,” Xander tells Abbi. “They’ll hunt for her, and the place is crawling with guards. Leave before they catch you.”

She bites her lip, looking desperately at me as she mouths, “I’m sorry.”

They rush out of the alleyway without looking back at me.

And there goes my escape.

“If she runs, it will detonate. She’ll be dead within half a second.”

I pause, my eyes widening as Xander and his father discuss inserting a tracker into my arm. The attempt at getting me out last night proved that someone on the inside isn’t loyal, and Igor refuses to lose me.

Which makes no sense. I’m no one compared to all these assholes.

Today, although it’s terrible that I’m still here, it has been a little easier to know that Malachi is definitely alive, that he’s healing, and my father, Molly, and Abigail are all okay. A weight’s been lifted from my shoulders, but that rock still sits in my chest, suffocating me with every breath because I’m not there, waiting for Malachi to wake up.

“Get this over with,” Igor says, crossing his arms and ankles, and leaning against the kitchen counter. “We have a meeting in an hour, and I need your plaything back in her room.”

“You’re not putting a damn tracker inside me,” I snap, trying to step away, my back hitting one of his immovable guards. “I won’t run,” I lie.

Xander steps in front of me. “This isn’t up for debate, Olivia. Give me your fucking arm.”

My eyes desperately search around us—but all I see are his men and Igor, waiting, staring, some chuckling to themselves as tears start to slide down my cheeks.

“Pl-Please don’t do this.”

Xander is putting on a show. He doesn’t want anyone to know he was the one who arranged for me to get picked up outside the party—that Sebastian was there and about to save me from all of this. He could easily run too. If he really does have a thing going on with Abigail, then why not hide with her?

The look on her face when he barged through the doors and told me to get inside told a thousand stories. Something is going on between them. If she was smart, she’d run in the opposite direction, and definitely not into the arms of another Reznikov like Adryx.

What is she thinking?

“Do as you’re told, or this will get ugly. Give me. Your fucking. Arm.”

“I hope when Malachi gets you, he makes it slow and painful.”

Igor huffs and shoves Xander aside, grabbing my wrist and yanking me to him. I can smell his foul breath and the cigar smoke on his clothes—both scents infiltrate my senses, and I try not to vomit as he pulls something long and sharp from his son’s hand.

“How hard is it to discipline her?” he sneers at Xander. “You have a lot to learn, boy.” Turning to me, he tightens his grip until I flinch with the pain. “If you squirm or try to pull away, it’ll hurt much more.”

I grit my teeth and look away as he slowly, so damn slowly, inserts the needle into my skin—it tears at the flesh, and warm liquid drips to the ground.

“There,” he says, grinning as he pushes the needle in further, cutting through the muscle and depositing the tracker. “Now you have no way of running from us.”

It burns. It feels like he’s pressing nails into my flesh, but I revel in it.

If I feel this pain, even for a few minutes, I can ignore the pain and panic in my heart. Because now, no one can save me.