The Mafia's Forced Bride
He stares at her like he has never seen her before, his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out.
“What is this?” His voice cracks on the words, raw and broken. “Natasha, what are you doing?”
She laughs, a low, cold sound that echoes off the wooden walls. “Natasha is dead. She died of pneumonia in that lab three years after the Tribunal took her. Same as your little sister Lila. Her lungs were too weak, the doctors did not bother to treat her. They dumped her body in the same river as the rest of the disposable captives.”