Four asked if I’d heard from Dasha.
None asked me how I was doing or thanked me for my fucking service of marrying a fucking killer and possibly dying.
There were no texts or calls from my mother.
“How mad is he about canceling the wedding?” she asks.
My blood turns cold. “They didn’t cancel it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re talking to the new Mrs. Emilio Lastro.”
“Oh, Liliya,” she says, guilt clear in her voice. “I’m so sorry.”
I don’t doubt her guilt, but she knew this would happen. Aleksy would never have just canceled the wedding.
I’m not angry with her though.
I sigh. “Where are you?” I say, hating that my voice shakes.
“Liliya,” she says around a longer sigh, “you know I can’t tell you that.”
“Who are you with?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
“Can you at least promise to stay in touch?”
“Of course.”
I perk up at the sound of a voice in the background.
Aman’s voice.
I press the phone harder against my ear. “Who is?—”
Dasha speaks over him and me. “I have to go. Talk soon.” She ends the call.
I toss the phone to the side and roll my neck as tension tightens every muscle. Shutting my eyes, I wonder if she’d known about Aleksy’s murder plan or if he’d sprung it on her like he did me.
Maybe that’s why she ran.
Now, I have to decide whether I’ll run … or do as my family said and kill him.
I’ve never plottedto kill anyone before.
In less than twenty-four hours, I married a killer and then was told I needed to basically become a hit woman.
I’ve never even considered killing someone.
Not even the doctor who ruined my career and got me fired.
I spend another two hours in bed, hating every second of my new life, before getting up to change my foot bandage. Emilio thankfully left the supplies in the bathroom before storming out last night.
Sitting on the closed toilet seat, I unwrap the dressing and clean my wound. The pain has eased, and there’s no sign of infection. I rewrap it, stand, and start unpacking my toiletries.
When I’m finished, I change into a black romper and make my way downstairs to explore my new prison.