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I was still shaking as I stepped into the bedroom; my arm ached so bad that I couldn't move it as I clutched the towel with one hand. I went straight to the closet and sat on the ottoman, shaking off the shock. I had no idea what had just happened.
I couldn't understand why he'd react like that. Why would he ask me about dad out of nowhere? And what was he trying to get out of me? Did something happen between my dad and Nikolai?
I gently dried my body and changed into oversized, comfy clothes so they wouldn't hurt my arm. I walked out of the closet and found Nikolai running a hand through his hair. He was dressed up in a clean suit now. He stood right outside the closet door.
"You need my help with something?" he asked.
"No!" I snapped, coldly, "Go away!"
"Angel, I'm sorry, I thought we were just talking..."
I looked at him incredulously. "Talking? Do you call that talking? How many times do I have to tell you that I knew nothing about anything for you to finally believe me, Nikolai?!"
He walked closer to me, cupping my cheek. "Forget about it."
I stepped back. "No, you need to learn how to talk to me without trying to manipulate answers out of me. What is it? What happened between you and dad?"
He sighed, "It's nothing of importance, Angel."
"Nikolai, don't lie to me, please. It seemed like you hated my dad for some reason; why? What happened between you two?"
His lips curved into a slight smile. "I do hate your dad for keeping you from me."
I gave my head an incredulous shake. "No, that's not what it was about, you know that!"
"Let's not talk about your dad; he was not my favorite person before he died," he answered.
"Why?"
He let out a dry, unamused breath. "I'm going to Sicily for a week; Eleonora will be here with you—the chef that used to work for you while you were living in your father's mansion."
I completely forgot about what we were talking about, as he told me that. Why was he going to Sicily again? I remember how torturing it was when he went out of the country the last time. I had to spend time with Grace. "Why are you going to Sicily again?"
His expression darkened. "Grace Russell wants a war, Evangeline, and a war she will get."
"Can't you just take care of her here? I mean, Grace is here."
"Grace is not here."
"Then, where is she?"
He came up to me and cupped my face with both of his hands. He made me look up at him as his eyes trailed all over my face before settling on my lips.
