Page 209 of Arrow

“My loyalty?” I laughed. “That’s rich coming from you. Tell me, Father, did you arrange for Luca’s death too? Was your own son becoming too powerful for your liking?”

The color drained from his face. For once, Giovanni Virelli looked genuinely shocked. “What are you talking about?”

“Arrow told me everything. About the meeting. About how his uncle tortured Luca before killing him. About the rumors that you set it all up because Luca was gaining too much support.”

My father’s hand shot out, gripping my arm so tightly I knew it would bruise. “You believe the words of a Romanov over your own father? That boy is filling your head with lies to turn you against me.”

“Then tell me the truth,” I challenged, not flinching from his painful grip. “Did you know how Luca died? Did you even ask for details, or were you just relieved that he was out of your way?”

His grip loosened, but his eyes remained cold. “You don’t understand the complexities of our world, Harlowe. The decisions I’ve had to make to keep our family strong.”

“That’s not a denial,” I whispered, the truth settling like ice in my veins. “You did know. Maybe you didn’t order it directly, but you knew.”

“Luca was weak,” my father said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register I remembered from childhood. “He was making deals with the Romanovs behind my back. He would have fractured our family from within.”

The admission knocked the air from my lungs. All these years, I’d grieved my brother, blamed the Romanovs for taking him from me. But the truth was far uglier than I’d imagined.

“And me?” I scoffed. “What am I to you? Another chess piece? Another sacrifice when I become inconvenient?”

My father’s expression softened slightly, an unfamiliar look crossing his face. For a moment, I glimpsed something almost like regret in his eyes.

“You were never supposed to be part of this world,” he said, his voice lower now. “Your mother wanted better for you. College, a normal life, away from all this.” He gestured vaguely at the room, at the armed guards outside, at the entire bloody empire he’d built. “But you’re too much like me. Too stubborn. Too proud.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You’re my daughter,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “My blood. The only family I have left.”

“Family?” I laughed bitterly. “Family is just a word to you. You’ve spent my entire life treating me like a burden, a reminder of mom that you couldn’t stand to look at.”

His jaw tightened. “I protected you. Every decision I made was to keep you safe.”

“Oh, fuck you.” I scoffed. “How have you kept me safe?”

“By placing you in a position of power,” he replied, his voice hardening. “By ensuring that when the dust settles, you’ll be standing beside the victor.”

I stared at him, understanding dawning. “You never expected this marriage to last. You thought the Romanovs would implode, and I’d be positioned to take control of what remained.”

My father’s smile was cold. “You always were smarter than Luca.”

The casual cruelty of the comparison made my stomach turn. I stepped back, putting distance between us.

“I’m marrying Arrow in three hours,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “And whatever game you’re playing, I won’t be your pawn anymore.”

“You think you love him,” my father said, his tone dripping with contempt. “That animal who branded you like cattle. Who parades you around with his initial around your neck.”

I touched the A pendant reflexively. “He’s never pretended to be anything other than what he is. Unlike you.”

My father’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know him? You think a few weeks in his bed gives you insight into what he’s capable of?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Ask yourself this, Harlowe,” he continued. “If Arrow Romanov is the honorable man you believe him to be, why hasn’t he told you about the night your mother died?”

I felt as though I’d been slapped. “What are you talking about?”

My father’s smile was cruel, triumphant. “He hasn’t told you, has he? Ask your future husband where he was the night your mother took her last breath. Ask him what part the Romanovs played in her death.”

“You’re lying,” I whispered, but doubt had already taken root, spreading like poison through my veins. “Mom killed herself.”

“With help,” my father said, his voice soft with false sympathy.

“Get out,” I said, my voice shaking with rage. “Get out before I call Frank in here to remove you.”