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“Mama came up with the plan. And I went along with it.” There it is. I confessed.

“Did you want to leave?”

I narrow my eyes. “I just told you.”

“It’s a different question. Did you want to leave me?”

He’s right. That is a very different question. I knit my fingers together and let my gaze fall to the floor for a moment before daring to meet those eyes again. “No.”

Something in his expression loosens. Not by much, but it’s something.

“What difference does it make, though?” I continue, dabbing at my eyes again. “I still left. Still ran away.”

“And I still chased you. Warned you about that, didn’t I?” A cruel smile inches across his lips. “But you know what? I get it. I understand why you ran, why you left.” He pauses for a moment but still keeps his gaze on me. “The freedom. Freedom from lies, and a contract that wasn’t technically yours.”

A cold knot forms in my stomach. “What? What do you mean?”

“I know. I know the truth… Allegra.”

My stomach plummets and the floor seems to fall away from beneath my feet, as if someone ripped it away from me.

Oh God.

He knows.

Knows my lie. Terror fuses with my blood, spreading through me like poison.

“Allegra.” Hearing my name on his lips feels like another bittersweet lie. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

There’s no point denying it. He’s looking at me like he truly knows, like he has evidence and just wants to hear the confirmation from me.

The lie I’ve been living has split wide open and been laid bare at his feet. There’s nowhere left for me to run or hide.

“My father… forced me.” My heart is in my throat, pounding against the ribcage. It’s beating so hard my whole body aches.

“I know.”

“How?” The tremor in my heart travels down my body.

“I pay attention. And I have my ways of finding things out.”

“The dreams.”

“That helped, but it wasn’t just that.”

“What was it?” I’m probably asking way too many questions, but good old curiosity has me in its grip again. No one else was able to unravel my secret. But he did.

He steps forward. I want to move, to run again, but this time, I’m frozen. Lev stops right in front of me, towering over me with his height and dangerous presence, then he catches my face, splaying his fingers down my neck. His thumb glides into my hair at the back of my neck.

“Watched a few videos. Old ones of you and your sister when you were younger. The kind that could easily go unnoticed.”

My breath slows right down. Mama has videos of Gabrielle and me. That must be what he’s talking about.

“Birthmark.” He strokes the back of my head. “You have one here. Your sister does not.” He picks up my left arm. “Left-handed. Gabrielle was right-handed. And then there’s your love for art. Your sister hates it—your words, not mine.”

All true. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Not sure yet.”