“At least Carter doesn’t murder people for a living.” Ronan made an unamused noise, practically baring his teeth at me. “Fuck you, Mila.” I bristled. “Fuck you! And fuck your decency too. I’m so over it.” He was on me so fast I didn’t even get a chance to escape. Not that I would. I didn’t fear D’yavol, and that was one of the biggest problems of all. “You don’t want my decency?” he growled in my ear, pressing his wet body against mine. “So be it.” A shiver ghosted down my spine. The anger, the truth about my papa and mother, the anxiety of the future—it was tangled; overwhelming; draining. I didn’t have the energy or desire to struggle when Ronan bent me over the vanity. The marble dug into my hips, but the hollow ache in my chest overrode the pain. Ronan jerked my thong down my thighs, pushed my shirt to my hips, and shoved into me in one thrust. I hissed a noise of half-pleasure, halfpain, as his hand collared my throat. Water dripped down my collarbone like tears. I braced my hands on the mirror while he fucked me hard from behind, each slap of flesh radiating his anger. There was no intimacy involved. Hardly any pleasure. But I took his rage, my heart suddenly deciding it needed him in any way it could have him. He yanked my head back by my hair, his growl at my ear. “Malen’kaya Igunishka . . . fucking engaged.” The words sounded like a curse, but a subtle note in his voice reached my heart, tugging at each frayed edge. Beneath his fury, a hint of vulnerability lay. I’d found another weakness. He was weak when he was left behind. Breathing harsh pants, my fingers slipped down the mirror, the words escaping my throat. “I never wanted the engagement.” “Well, congratulations are in order then,” he gritted, “because it’s not happening.” The word “congratulations” hit me with a mocking load of vulnerability: My papa murdered my mother and would soon be killed himself. Congratulations . . . Ivan hated me. Congratulations . . . I’d be left destitute by my own brothers. Congratulations .. . Ronan would again be on the other side of the lonely Atlantic. Congratulations . . .