Silence fell upon the table, until I broke it with my words. “Excuse me, I have to use the restroom.”
My mother gave me a terse nod, the carved line between her brows the only indication that she wasn’t happy. She was never happy. Not with me. Not with my twin. Not with her lovers. This life had stained her soul and destroyed her innocence. Assuming she ever had any to begin with.
Taking a deep breath, I turned around and headed toward the bathrooms, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor. The knots in my stomach seemed forever present.
I hated how my mother remained unaffected by it all—trafficking humans, being far too comfortable with the level of collateral damage her dealings accumulated.
And most of all, I hated how she seemed so unbothered by the death of my twin. It had been years, yet the wound inside my chest refused to heal.
She was my other half. The day I saw the video of Lou’s death was my last straw. I died right along with her.
Unfortunately, my body and my mind continued living. Remembering some things and forgetting others.
So, since destiny refused to be kind and kill me off, I had to make a difference. Make my sister’s death count. So I played my part. I stayed silent and betrayed no emotion. They would never see me coming.
Disgust thick in my veins, I held my clutch as I stalked toward the washroom. My nape prickled. My steps slowed. I could feel eyes on me. I turned around, but everyone at the table was deep in their dirty business. I skimmed over the restaurant, but nothing seemed amiss. Yet, I could feel it. It made every single hair on my body rise.
My hand reached up, twisting the single diamond stud earring—once, twice—before I gave my head a subtle shake and my hand fell to my side. Another throb in my wrist and I gripped it tightly as I rounded the corner.
Once I entered the restroom, I finally released a heavy breath and started to pace. The energy brimming beneath my skin was restless—I needed to get a handle on it, if not to preserve my cover.
I stopped in front of the sink and met my reflection, my hands on either side of the fancy marble counter steadying me. I looked like me, but I didn’t feel like me. Who am I? I wondered. What am I doing?
No matter what I did, it didn’t seem to make a difference. More women were found. More flesh was traded. I couldn’t save them all.
I leaned my forehead on the cool glass and closed my eyes, remembering the first time I’d found them. The innocent, broken girls made to move like cattle.
No, it was worse.
The stench was the first thing that registered when I opened the door to the container. The terrified whimpers were what followed.
My eyes adjusted to the darkness and my heart stopped. It fucking stopped beating, seeing girls and women with bruised faces huddled around each other, bodies angled to shelter themselves from what lay on the other side of the door. From me.
Some were lying in a fetal position, wearing nothing but filthy oversized shirts. Others sat with knees raised to their chest, their eyes glossed over and vacant.
It was then I saw their collars—the thick metal gripping their throats.
My nostrils flared, fury surging through me. “I’m going to help you.”
And I’d make them pay.
Someone banging on the bathroom door pulled me out of my trance, my heartbeat racing at the onslaught of bitter memories. Disgust and disappointment swirled like a category-five hurricane inside of me. Unstoppable and destructive.
I’d saved some, but I’d failed more. Including my sister.
My hazel eyes, misty at the reminder of my failures, stared back at me.
With hate. With resignation. With sorrow.
Chapter 3Kingston
Iwatched her golden locks bounce with each step she took, her skin glowing. She looked fragile, maybe even broken, reminding me of Lou.
My breath stuttered. My chest twisted. The resemblance was remarkable. She looked like her. Walked like her. Moved like her.
Don’t be fooled, Kingston. The warning rang in my ears. This woman didn’t hold a candle to Lou.
And just like that, it felt like losing her all over again, and the familiar fury bubbled like lava. Sofia took away my chance at redemption and left me in hell. I was no longer under her and Ivan’s thumbs, but I might as well have been. What existed was a different level of hell, where I couldn’t escape my failure to save Lou.
Alexei had been too late.
“I’m here to save you.” Unfamiliar voice, strange words. Nobody was saved here. I cracked open my swollen eyes and inhaled a sharp breath. “I’m Alexei.”
Pale blue eyes stared at me through the darkness.
“Save… her…” I could barely recognize the sound of my own voice as I motioned next to me, only to find the spot empty.
His eyes followed my gaze, waiting for me to explain. Frustration and despair welled in my chest when more words filtered through, this time in a more pressing tone.
“Alexei, we have to get out of here.” I didn’t turn my head, my eyes glued to the spot where I’d last seen Louisa. Her body was no longer there.
“The bomb’s about to detonate.” A third voice.
Alexei shifted my body, setting off an explosion of pain, and I clenched my teeth to stop a groan from slipping through my lips.
He raced us out of there, every one of his steps sending a shot of pain through me. My limbs were too heavy, my body too broken to fight him off—whoever he was. He raced through the castle, but I kept my eyes glued on the stairwell we just emerged from. My mind needed another glimpse of her, even as a ghost.
But destiny wasn’t kind enough to give me that.
A beat later, the air filled with an ear-shattering explosion. Alexei picked up his speed, but it wasn’t long before another boom sounded from the castle.
My savior stumbled and we went down hard. My head connected with something solid, and I was dragged into unconsciousness.
Alexei Nikolaev saved me to atone for his mistakes. But he only saved my body. He came too late to save my spirit. Too late to save her.
The years since Alexei rescued me had been hell. I couldn’t sleep. Could barely eat. I had to be sedated to get rest or risk my body shutting down. I wanted to kill anyone who crossed me. Anyone who resembled the woman with golden eyes who never failed to cause heaviness in my chest.
The woman who died for me.
For weeks after I was saved, I was under Alexei’s protection, but I was on edge all day and night, only a breath away from launching myself over. I couldn’t forget Lou’s cries, her screams, her pain.
Liana strolled in the direction of the restroom, capturing my attention. Her steps slowed as she scanned the diners. Almost as if she could sense my eyes on her. My gaze roved over her face and down her body.
She was older, curvier, but she wasn’t my Louisa. No matter the striking resemblance.
She reached for her ear and tugged on the diamond. I sucked in a breath through my teeth. The world tilted on its axis and time slowed. For the first time in a very long time, I felt a flicker of something in my chest. My throat closed.
But then reason slowly filtered in.
She used her right hand to tug on her earring. Lou had been left-handed.
But then she wrapped her fingers around her left wrist and her eyes locked to where I hid in the shadows. My breath hitched. The ache intensified.
This woman’s eyes were all wrong, lacking softness and passion that warmed me from the inside. Lou’s eyes were the mirror to her heart and soul. Every moment of pain and torment were reflected in the depths of them. Liana’s eyes were flat, the lack of fire serving as a reminder of what I’d lost.