Maria
I don’t tell Larissa what I said to my father, and there is a silent understanding between us. She can’t tell Mikhail what she doesn’t know.
The next day is spent in a limbo between fear and boredom. Bratva men frequently show up at the estate, and I watch them with trepidation from a window in the family room as they patrol the large yard. All are armed, and a few men pace with huge dogs, pulling at the leashes. They walk closely around the fence and occasionally disappear into a detached garage.
When one gestures at the window, I step away.
Larissa sits comfortably in a huge easy chair with the television streaming some reality TV show she’s barely watching. None of this seems to bother her. She glances at me and smiles. I smile back and wonder how long I will be here.
Rurik strides quickly into the room, ignoring me like I’m a wilting plant in the corner.
It’s not my business, and I shouldn’t care, but I wonder what he and Mikhail have been saying about me. Rurik walks over to Larissa and kisses her cheek. A kiss that makes her light up with love. She speaks softly to him in Russian, and he laughs at her comment, kissing her again on the lips.
It makes me feel odd to see this cold-hearted man treat anyone sweetly. I’m not a bad person, but when he turns to leave, Rurik scowls at me.
“I’m tired,” I tell Larissa as I move toward the door.
“Of course,” she replies, standing up. She places a soft hand on my elbow. “You need your rest, she whispers. “I’ll walk with you.”
I almost say no, but a large man appears in the doorway. One of the guards who is tall and wide. Except for his face, his visible skin is covered in a network of tattoos. He looks at me coldly and then speaks to Larissa in Russian.
“Garage,” she answers him coldly in English. “Not here.”
He nods respectfully, and her grip tightens on my arm until he leaves the house.
I see myself swimming with Mikhail in the penthouse pool again. The water, warm and crystal blue, laps against my bare skin, and his dark hair almost covers his eyes. He grins as he lifts his hand and smooths it off his forehead. My heart flutters watching a simple but sexy gesture.
But then we stop laughing and splashing each other. His gaze narrows, and his hands wrap around my neck. Mikhail’s eyes are cold and determined as his hold tightens around my throat. I struggle against his strong grip, trying desperately to break free. I claw at his crushing hands, trying to pry them loose, but it’s useless.
He wants to hurt me. He wants me dead.
I bolt upright in bed, gasping for air as I surface from the depths of my dream. My chest heaves, and my heart pounds wildly as I struggle to calm my breathing.
It’s only a nightmare, I tell myself. But it feels so real.
I look toward the window and it’s dark, but I can hear voices outside. Gradually, I get out of bed and creep over to the curtain, drawing it back slightly. The small glowing tip of a cigarette is the only light I can see. Guards are waiting underneath my window. I hurry back to bed and pull the covers over my head.
The painful memories from last night keep me company while I hide. All I can think about are my father’s confession about his role in the Bratva and the cruel way my mother died to save me.
What kind of world am I about to bring my baby into?
My mind spins as I try to make sense of everything that’s altered my dull life into something I could never imagine. I thought my father was innocent. I thought Mikhail was wrong. The weight of both their secrets crushes me.
I don’t know who I want to believe anymore. I struggle to put my feelings into thoughts. How can I possibly begin to process the truth about my father? The man who raised me, who I thought I knew better than anyone else, is not the person I thought he was.
He’s a stranger who claims to love me.
All the things Dad told me as a child were lies. My mother didn’t die of cancer. She was shot while saving me. And Dad is not a tech businessman. He’s a part of the Ivanov Bratva-the Avtoritet, whatever that means.
I thought I knew my secure little world, but I didn’t. Everything is upside down and inside out.
And now … this baby …
It feels like I’m being pulled in two different directions. Love for my father breaks my heart while my love for Mikhail threatens to shatter it. I need time to think and figure out what to do. But do I have enough time?
I get out of bed and slip on a bathrobe that Larissa left on the easy chair. She slips in and out of the room unseen, making sure I have everything I need. Suddenly, my heart freezes, and I spin around. Good. The phone is still on the bedside table. The screen reads 2:00 a. m., and I sit down to make another call.