Maria
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to end the silence.
Mikhail pulls back, but his hands stay on me, gently cradling my face. “Why are you apologizing, Maria?”
I hesitate because there are too many things to list, and I’m afraid that the look in his eyes will turn to ice if I tell him everything I’ve done to hurt him. But I didn’t mean to do those things. I grimace in pain as I try to sit up again. This could’ve easily been him and not me. It could have been so much worse.
Mikhail holds me until I stop trying to move. “Maria, don’t. You have to heal for the baby.”
I nod. “I should’ve told you. I should tell you the truth.”
Mikhail sits down in the chair beside my bed. He seems heavy with responsibility as he looks at the photos again before placing them on the bed.
“You were scared,” he says. “It’s like you said. You want to love me, but you don’t know if I want to love you. But things will be different now, Maria, especially after we marry.”
“Is that still happening?” I whisper.
His gaze turns to me. “Maria, we must.”
“I know. And I know you’ve told me why. But … I just thought?-”
He shakes his head. “We have to be together to take care of our child.”
“Yes.” My smile is weak. “For our baby.”
Mikhail’s expression is serious but not threatening, concerned but not calculating. “Maria, my feelings for you have wavered between two extremes, but I’ve made a decision on how I feel.”
“You can’t decide on how you feel,” I scoff. “You just feel.”
He shakes his head. “I meant that I’ve decided to stop hiding how I feel.”
He presses his lips to my forehead, and I feel different when he touches me. Something swells inside of me, making me feel taller, stronger, and bolder. I feel confident that this is love. And he won’t change his mind again.
A quick knock on the door, and Pavel steps into the room. His somber face softens into a slight grin when he sees me, and a smile bursts out onto my face. He walks to the foot of the bed. “You are looking better.”
“Thank you.” I look him in the eye, noticing they’re almost the same color as mine. “For saving me and my baby.”
Pavel bows slightly before turning to Mikhail. “I’ll be downstairs, my pakhan.” Then he quickly leaves the room.
I see the dangerous expression on Mikhail’s face before he quickly conceals it. And I don’t want him to leave as he stands up, moving away from the bed. I want him to stay right here with me, where it’s safe in this cocoon we’ve created, safe with our baby.
“Mikhail?” I speak quickly as his hand reaches for the door.
“I’ll be back, Maria.”
“Mikhail!” Raising my voice jabs me in the side. Mikhail looks back but won’t stop long enough for me to ask where he is going. It’s only when he walks to the door that I notice Larissa standing there.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Smoothly and quickly, they switch places while I watch helplessly from my bed. A quick exchange of words in Russian, and he’s gone. Larissa sweeps over toward my bed. Her hair is swept up in a bun that reminds me of Audrey Hepburn, and she shrugs off her light green coat.
Her gaze catches on the two photos lying on the covers, and her carefree facade shifts a little as her eyes stare and her mouth flattens into a straight line. Larissa picks up the pictures and stares at the small image, her mouth twitching slightly. The longing in her eyes is apparent, and I look away to give her some privacy.
“Oh, how wonderful, Maria.” Her lips graze my cheek. “I am so happy for you both. And though I would’ve wished for a different way for Mikhail to find out, I’m glad he knows. You’ve made him very happy.”
I grit my teeth as I pull myself up in bed. “Lara, where was Mikhail going?”
She studies the photos closer as if they must be committed to memory.
“I don’t know.” Then she places them down on the desk. “That is our lot, Maria, as the women of the Bratva. We must spend our lives waiting and wondering if our men will come home.” She smiles. “But don’t worry. Kolya can take care of himself.”
Reminding her that I took a bullet for him would be cruel. “I just wanted to know if he was off to find Zakhar.”
“Maria, please.” Larissa sits down and sighs as she stretches her legs and kicks off her flats. “If you think too much about it, it will drive you crazy. Your father is blinded by vengeance so intense it almost killed you.”
“Stop it!” I place my hands against my ears like a child on the verge of a tantrum, but I heard what she said. I’ve been hearing similar words looping around my head since I was shot. It’s getting harder and harder for me to think of him as Dad. Somehow, in my own head, he’s transformed into Zakhar, a terrifying man capable of violence that I never could’ve imagined.
“He’s still my father,” I say quietly, but I’m not sure who I’m saying it to.
“And look at what he has done,” Larissa says in response. “Does he even know if you’re alive?”
“You mean, does he care?” I reply coldly, refusing to look at Larissa. “Is this also part of our lot as the women of the Bratva? To know what our fathers really are? And that they’re capable of unforgivable things?”
“Sometimes you have to make a choice.” Larissa leans back in the chair. “I choose to love the memory of mine. Even though that man never existed.”
I stare at her, and it’s like hearing Mikhail’s words pouring from her mouth. A chill runs through me, and I feel frozen-as if death just dragged its finger down my back. Is that the attitude they all have? Is this how they were raised?
Will this be how my baby is raised?
I know their moral compass is skewed off the scale, but … I do bad things, but you have to love me anyway? I shoot your dad and you will love me anyway? I sigh.
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing, I’m just being a hypocrite.”
Larissa doesn’t press for an explanation.
“I can call Dominika for something warm to eat.” Larissa touches my hand and looks around the room. “It’s been so long since I’ve stepped foot in this house. I don’t know how Kolya can stand being back here.”
I sink into the soft bed. “I don’t understand how he can stand many of the things he does.”