He watched me for a moment, then reached into the nightstand, pulled out my phone, and handed it to me. “Put it on speakerphone.” I exhaled in relief. “Okay.” Tuming the phone on with shaky hands, I was assaulted by multiple messages coming in. Most from Carter. A lot from Carter. The man barely gave me the time of day unless we were on a mandatory date. I wondered if he was in trouble from his father for letting his almost-fiancée fall off the face of the earth. Finding my papa’s contact, my thumb hesitated before I pressed “call” and turned on the speakerphone. I set the phone on my thigh, my stomach roiling with each shrill ring. Then they stopped. “Alexei.” My throat felt tight. “Papa.” He released a breath of relief. “Mila...” A tear ran down my cheek. I saw Ronan get to his feet out of the corner of my eye and walk over to look out the window. “Hi, Papa.” I didn’t know what else to say or why this felt so awkward. “How are you?” “T’m fine.” Just in your enemy’s bed willingly. Guilt inflamed my gut. “Are you really? Or are you only saying that because that bastard is listening in?” My skin crawled at the insult, the demand to defend Ronan rising in my throat, but I didn’t know what part to play here. Too much animosity cloaked the room, as if one wrong word would cause it to blow. “He’s here listening. But I promise, I’m fine.” I could practically hear the cogs in my father’s head turning, wondering why Ronan was letting me speak to him. This phone call wouldn’t benefit Ronan in any way. Papa must have believed me because he said, “Khorosho.” Good. “Mila, there are things we need to discuss. Things concerning you after I’m gone.” Another tear ran down my cheek. “Okay.” “You need to marry Carter, angel.” Ronan’s shoulder’s tensed, and he turned to face me, but I couldn’t find the courage to fully look at him. “I know he wasn’t your first choice—” “He was never my choice,” I returned, cutting off my papa for the first time in my life.