“T hope using me to fulfill your twisted desire for revenge doesn’t weigh too heavily on your pin-size conscience.” “T’m glad to hear you’re concerned for my welfare, but just to clear the air...” His eyes darkened. “I’ve enjoyed every second of it.” Loathing burned a hole through my stomach as “Pop Goes the Weasel” grew louder and louder in my ears. Then, something vengeful, almost sensual, arose to trace the edges of my voice. “I think you’re enjoying it more than you’d like.” He went still, and then his gaze slowly lifted to examine me like I was toxic. Somehow, the bitter tea went down smoothly beneath the force of his stare. “We both know I could have you any way I want. Unfortunately for you, I have better things to do than Mikhailov whores.” A pop sounded in my chest, releasing an explosion of fire that turned my vision a hazy red. The slap to his face vibrated in the room and stung my palm, but the sight of his reddened cheek and violent gaze didn’t quell the pounding of blood in my ears. I was doused in flames, in regret and confusion. He’d taken everything from me—my papa, my mother’s memory, my innocence—and still, I couldn’t even slap him without a tight sensation of remorse and an apology rising in my throat. I hated it. I hated this house. But what I hated the most was what I didn‘ hate. The pull between the feelings wreaked havoc on my body and the dining room. I shot to my feet and swept dishes off the table to the floor, including his stupid bowl of Fruit Loops. Fine china shattered. He merely watched me smash every breakable item on the table, and when there was nothing else left to throw, my body shook, self-loathing pulsing through me in waves. “Are you finished?” My heart slowed to a short bu-bum, bu-bum, and all the blood inside rose to ache in my head. Violence was supposed to be a release, but I didn’t feel so good. Nausea turned my stomach while I tried to catch my breath. A glare from the overhead light singed my eyes, sending a ringing through my ears, and I winced. “Mila.” Ronan never called me that, but I couldn’t focus on anything except the tightness in my lungs. There wasn’t enough oxygen in here,