A cold sweat flooded me, washing through me with shaky dampness. I didn’t move. I couldn’t. The battle within consumed every ounce of me, stealing the air from my lungs and suffocating me. His gaze hardened. “I said, bring it here.” This was easier when he was D’yavol and not the man who wiped away my tears. Just the thought burned the backs of my eyes because I knew, after this, he never would again. But I needed to do this now, before I fell so deep I couldn’t find a way out. “T can’t.” The words leaked of despair. He stood and stepped toward me, determination in his eyes. I raised the barrel to his chest. The gun was so heavy, my arms shook, the trigger burning my finger. “Don’t. Please don’t.” My blood rushed so loudly in my ears it almost drowned out my voice. Jaw tight, he paused. “I can’t be the reason my papa dies. I can’t . . .” Tears ran down my cheeks. “Just let me go,” I pleaded. “That’s all I want.” He made a dark, disbelieving sound. “You’re a better liar than I thought.” “What?” My chest constricted. “Was this your plan?” he growled. “Were you thinking about saving your goddamn father’s life while fucking me?” I blanched. “No . . . I didn’t plan this, but even if I did, you have no right to turn this around on me.” I was so overwhelmed I couldn’t find any anger. I didn’t have any more emotion to give. “You lied to me. You used me from the beginning.” “And Pd do it all again.” The statement was full of venom. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him so furious. It shook the beat of my heart and forced me back a step. “Please. Just let me go.” It came out as a sob. “That’s all I want.” “Nyet.” He wasn’t calling my bluff, though he also wasn’t going to give in. It hurt me more than anything that he thought I could really shoot him. The idea almost made me drop the gun, but I couldn’t. I didn’t mean anything to him. I was a chess piece. And I couldn’t survive being played anymore. “Please, Ronan—” “Don’t say my fucking name.”