65

Maria
I sleep through the night, maybe for the first time in weeks since Mikhail last touched me. It feels normal here, and for a brief moment, I pretend I’m home again as I listen to nature outside my window-birds chirping back and forth and leaf-blowers in the distance.
The morning light barely illuminates the sheer curtains pulled across the Juliette balcony, and I get up to look outside. From the window, I see the driveway stretching beneath the window toward the street. Though the room is on the second floor, I could easily drop down onto the lawn. Without thinking about it, I try the glass door, but it’s bolted shut.
I tug at it again but quickly stop when I see one of Rurik’s men walking down the driveway toward the main road.
I hurry back to bed, and that’s when I see a box on the bedside table. I stare at it, slowly comprehending what must be inside. Grabbing it, I pull at the matte black cardboard, tearing it open by the seams. Inside is a new phone.
Larissa kept her promise.
My anxiety is overwhelming, and my fingers tremble as I tap my father’s number from memory. I will confront him about everything Mikhail said. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly before hitting the send button.
The phone rings once, twice, three times.
My father answers after the fourth ring.
“Hello?” Dad’s familiar voice is strained, and there is a threatening tone to it-the same tone that I’m so used to hearing from Mikhail. When I don’t answer, his voice changes even more and a string of unintelligible sounds comes out.
It takes me a while to realize that he’s speaking Russian, that heisZakhar Budanov, and my heart shatters.
I swallow hard before speaking. “Daddy, it’s me.” I try to steady my voice. “It’s Maria. We need to talk.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “Daddy?” I ask.
“Maria.” I hear his voice catch. Just like that, Zakhar Budanov is gone, and Michael Rostova returns. “Maria, where are you?” His voice cracks slightly. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” Dad sounds like he’s at his wits’ end, and I can tell he’s holding back tears.
“Dad. I’m fine. No one has hurt me,” I try to reassure him without telling him anything.
“Where!” It’s a demand this time, and I hear the echoes of Zakhar.
And it scares me.
“I can’t tell you, Dad,” I reply. “I’m safe. I’m not with Mikhail … We have to talk … about you.” I pause, trying to find the right words. “About Zakhar.”
He’s quiet for a moment before finally answering, his voice filled with resignation. “We’ll talk when I get you home.”
“No, Dad, we need to talk now.” There’s another long silence, and I feel like I will throw up from the tension. “Tell me the truth.”
I feel a lump in my throat blocking my words, and my stomach feels like it’s made of lead. But I have to ask. I sniffle back my tears before continuing.
“I want to know about your past … your real past.” I pause. “As Zakhar Budanov.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can hear him breathing.
“Please, Dad,” I plead. “I heard you speak Russian just now. Please don’t lie to me like everyone else has.”
“Maria.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you more than anything in this world, and I would never do anything to hurt you. I just want you to be safe. Please believe me when I say that.” He pauses again. “What I did was in my past. But you’ve always been my future.”
“I know, Daddy.” I wipe away tears with the back of my hand. “They told me you were one of them. That you were a member of the Ivanov Bratva.” I swallow hard. “Mikhail said that you’re a traitor, that you were an … Avto-Av …”
“Avtoritet,” he completes the word. “I never wanted you to find out like this.” His voice is choked, and I can tell he’s holding backtears. “I was all those things, but I’m no traitor. I would never betray my pakhan.”
I inhale sharply. The names, the titles, the customs, the effortless way they roll off his tongue like they’re second nature. “Then what happened, Dad?” I ask. “Please tell me. I have to know.”
“Maria, you can’t trust Mikhail Ivanov. Or the men who work for him.”
“He’s the only one who hasn’t been lying to me,” I reply. “He’s the only one who’s told me the awful truth.”
“Maria, I’m sorry.” Dad sounds truly remorseful, and I continue to listen. “I’m so sorry I kept all that from you. But I did it to protect you, Maria. I didn’t want you to be scared of me. Of what I was.”
“I’m not scared of you, Dad.” My voice catches on my tears. “But I’m angry with you.”
“I know,” he says gently. “And I hope that one day, you will forgive me. And I hope you can understand.”
I nod into the phone and take a deep breath before I ask. “What about Mom, Dad? How did she die? Have you been lying about that to me my entire life as well?”
There’s another long pause, and I can feel the tension climbing as Dad finds the words to speak about an event he probably never speaks about.
“Yes,” he answers quietly.
I close my eyes at his admission, and tears run down my face again.
“Years ago,” Dad continues hesitantly, “I fell in love with a woman named Aria Genovesi. Her cousins were members of the Lanzzare Mafia, whose story I’m sure Mikhail Ivanov has told you. But despite the risk, we couldn’t stay away from each other. I found every excuse to see her, and she did the same. But we knew that if either family discovered our secret, there would be hell to pay.” He sighed, and I can tell he’s trembling. “And that’s exactly what happened, Maria.”
I try to imagine my father-the demanding and unyielding Michael Rostova sneaking around with a woman. My mother. It’s almost impossible to picture, but there’s no hiding the pain in his words.
“We knew the risks,” he continues. “But the love between us was too strong. And nothing, not even the hate between Gennady and Emilio, could extinguish it. And for a while, we thought we could do the impossible … until that night.”
“What happened?” I ask.
“We were betrayed, Maria,” he replies. “By Alexander Vorobyov. He found out about us and betrayed us to Gennady and the Bratva. We ran, and they came for us. That was the night your mother died.” He paused to keep his voice from breaking. “They killed her, Maria. She gave you to me and made me promise that I would keep you safe from the world.” He chokes on tears. “And she walked away to face death on her own. For you.”
I want to cry out and scream that it’s not fair. Why should being in love break the rules? But I force myself to remain silent. I collapse into the bed, exhausted from crying. I grab a pillow and clutch it hard against my churning stomach.
His voice steadies. “After that night, I disappeared and changed my name. I cut off all contact with my former life. I started over and pretended that I was someone else. I created a new identity and a new life for us. A secret life where you could grow up safe.”
Tears stream down my cheeks as I realize how much Dad has sacrificed for me. How much he’s given up. How much he loves me. And he still loves my mom. I can’t think of him as Zakhar; I can only think of him as my dad.
“Why didn’t you leave New York?” I ask. “Wouldn’t it have been safer to go far away?”
“Your cousins are here,” he replies stoically. “And they promised to protect us if I needed them. They know the truth of who I am and who you are. But I don’t trust the Lanzzare. Not completely.”
“But you’re working with them now?” I ask.
“Because it’s the only way to get you back.” His voice is firm, without a hint of sorrow. “That’s all that matters to me. You are all that matters to me.”
The determination in his voice is chilling, and I know that he means every word. Dad made a heart-wrenching sacrifice, and he’s been waiting for years to get even. He is both Zakhar Budanov and Michael Rostova. An enemy of the Ivanov Bratva, but still my father.
And I know in that moment, he will stop at nothing until I’m back home with him.
I know whose side I have to choose.
His voice grabs my attention again. “I’ll find a way to rescue you. I’ll put an end to this feud once and for all.”
“What do you mean?” I ask quietly. “How?”
“We’re going to destroy the Ivanov. Every last one of them. It’s the only way.”
Destroy the Ivanov Bratva … A new fear suddenly clutches my throat. His intent is crystal clear.
Mikhail … Larissa … Dominika …
All of them.
“I don’t want you to get hurt,” I say, my voice wobbling. “Or killed.”
“I won’t be,” he promises. “And when I’m through, they’ll get on their knees and beg forgiveness from me.” There’s a heavy silence on the phone. “They haven’t touched you?”
My cheeks flame, and I’m thankful we’re on the phone. “No, Dad.” I lie.
The magnitude of the situation hits me hard. I’m pregnant with Mikhail’s child. A Ivanov lives inside me.
Which means Dad’s threat applies to this innocent child in my belly. Suddenly, I’m split between my love for my father and love for my child. Which one can I accept? The fact that my father intends to kill my child’s father? Or the other way around? Where will this madness end?
“Isn’t there another way?” I ask softly.
“No.” His tone is too firm to argue with. “I trusted Alexander Vorobyov like a brother, and he betrayed me to gain favor. Your mother died because of that man.”
Tears speed down my face. “Did he shoot her?” I ask.
He sighs. “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter. Because all of them will die.” His deep voice crunches like heavy gravel. “I’ll come for you, Maria,” he says. “We will be a family again. And you’ll never have to hide ever again.”
“I’d like that,” I whisper. I place my hands over my stomach, hiding my own secret. I can’t tell him yet.
Dad’s voice softens. “I love you more than anything in this world, Maria. Your mother loved you even more.”
“Daddy,” my voice trembles, “I love you too.”
“Maria,” he replies, “Promise me that you’ll keep your head down. Promise me that you’ll stay safe until I can get you. I love you, baby.”
“I promise, Daddy,” I agree, trying to hide my fear. “I love you too.”
As I end the phone call, my heart is aching. I know the truth, and it hurts.
I want to hate Mikhail. I want to claw him with my nails and make him feel real pain. The pain I feel now. The same pain he makes me feel whenever he looks at me. He knew what he was doing to me.
Mikhail doesn’t have to do anything else to hurt my father. I’m pregnant with his baby, and that will be enough.
I place my hands over my stomach, and a fierce protectiveness builds inside me.
Suddenly, everything feels different.
A new determination rises inside me, and I realize that I must protect my baby against all the monsters in our lives.
I must do whatever it takes.
Like my mom did with me.