"Probably. Wanting to and doing so are two entirely different things. Beat him to it if you're so concerned about him taking away your doll." She felt the slap and merely blinked at her. Was she supposed to cry? Was she supposed to beg her to stop?
"I had a doll once," she paused to make sure that Inna was listening carefully, "beautiful and fragile. It was a rare gift from my father. I don't have a lot of memories of him, but I remember the doll." Dark brown eyed tinged with red rings focused on Inna's fragile doll like features.
"He got mad, he was apt to do that at times, and the doll was shattered. I cried over it, desperately trying to piece it together. My brother did not cry. He took care of the problem so there would be no more broke dolls."
Shaking her head back, the long dark hair fell in cascading waves, but her face was expressionless. She was simply staring at her creator. "You're a broke doll, Inna. Only you can put the pieces back together again, or you can stay and my brother and sister will take care of the problem so there are no more broke dolls. Your choice. I honestly don't care anymore. You can't use me to kill him, and I already know how this story ends."
A smug look came to her face as she began to hum an old song in Russian. This was nearly over, and Viktoria had made her masterstroke move. There was no place for Nathan to run now. He would be destroyed and Roza and Dimka could began the next chapter of their lives. The end.