Chapter 90
1656words
Headlights glow like a pair of wolf eyes as they pass through the gate. They skirt along the ground, predicting the path of the car seconds before its tires roll along, where it halts in front of the house. It's been over an hour since Asher left to save my mother, and I haven't breathed easily since.
What happened? Did he rescue my mom? Did he kill Yannick?
Did he kill Roman?
I need to know the answer to that final question as much as I need oxygen to keep my lungs working. I need to know just how far Asher is willing to go.
I can't build a future with a child murderer. I just can't.
The driver's door opens in a wide swing. Asher steps out, his movements stiff and slow. With his hand gripping the car roof, he cranes his neck until he's looking at my bedroom window. My light is on, so he can see my silhouette. His posture doesn't ease up. If anything, he looks more distressed. From this distance, there's no mistaking the hollowness in his eyes.
Mom isn't with him.
He failed in one task, but what about the rest? I'm relieved at the fact he's alive, but I can't calm down. Wrapping my robe tightly around my pale blue nightgown, I sweep my bare feet over the floor, halfway running down the hall. I slow at the top of the stairs, but only because my need to know isn't as strong as my deep-seated fear of falling.
The front door cracks open as I reach the last step. He enters and I cry out.
'What happened? Are you all right? Did you see my mother?"
His eyes lock on me. The grim shape of his mouth contorts until it spreads apart, allowing his gritty, hardened voice to stab into my ears. 'Who is Roman?"
Shit.
I recoil. 'What?"
'The boy." He stamps his foot down in my direction. I match it with another step back. The stairwell bumps into my hip. 'The one I just met who insisted his father was Yannick and that you are his sister."
I'm torn between relief and panic. Roman's still alive. Asher didn't kill him!
'You spoke to him …"
'What the hell is going on, Camila? Tell me right now."
I take a moment and actually look at him. The front of his jacket is filthy, the material made heavier by slush and mud. The lines across his forehead are drawn into deep furrows. It's as if he aged ten years in the brief time he was away.
Letting out a shaky breath, I nod. 'Roman is my brother."
His lips curl back. 'And Katinka …"
'Is his mother."
He cringes, running his hand over his mouth like he can wipe the anger off his face. It doesn't work. 'How long have you known?"
It's time to come clean. Put it out there. Now that I've started, I can't hold the words back. 'Since the day I was kidnapped."
'Weeks, then!" he roars, advancing my way. 'How could you keep this from me? You had to know how dangerous this was!"
Approaching him warily, I lay my hands on his shoulders. He tolerates it, eyeing me so intensely that I expect him to rip away at any moment. 'I wanted to tell you. I swear I did, but I was scared about what happened to Pyotr."
He wrenches away from me with a frown. 'You thought I'd kill a child?"
My hands drift limply to my waist. 'Can you blame me?" I ask meekly.
'Don't try to twist this around and make me the bad guy here. You hid Yannick's son from me all this time!" He taps his hand against his chest rapidly, emphasizing every word. 'Don't you understand what this means? Roman allows Yannick to maintain control of the Grachev Bratva. If he succeeds in killing me, then the pathway of succession becomes clear."
I lift my chin defiantly. 'And if you kill Yannick, Roman puts your claim at risk."
Two can play this game.
'I'm glad we're on the same page."
'No." Whirling on him, I glare into his eyes. 'We're not!"
He holds my stare steadily, even though it feels like the fire in me is lashing out. How can he resist being burned?
'I hate this bullshit about legitimacy and succession. By that logic, I have a claim to the Grachev Bratva too."
'A powerful position."
'That's all you care about? Power?"
'It's not about what I care about, Camila. It's about the fact that you hid Roman's existence from me! What the hell were you thinking?" he demands.
The flames curling in my guts spark higher and hotter with each beat of my heart.
'I was thinking about the innocence of a ten-year-old boy being stripped away because a bunch of grown men care more about how they'll rule the world."
His frown twinges like a bowstring, and I know I've finally reached him.
'The instant you kill Yannick, Roman's heart will harden and his focus will become hunting you down to get his revenge. In exchange for achieving your vengeance, all you'll do is create his desire for revenge. This cycle will never end."
'You talk like you expect me to spare Yannick after all he's done."
'I don't! That's the problem!" I point at him accusingly. 'I want him dead as much as you. And that means Roman's hate for you will be inevitable. What does that mean for our future? If he kills you, won't our child end up with the same desire for vengeance? Where does it end?"
The air crackles between us. Asher glances down. I notice I've placed my hands over my stomach. My protectiveness is second nature at this point.
'How did you expect to protect Roman from this?" he asks in a softer tone than before. 'Hiding him from me could only work for so long. Knowing won't stop me from killing his father."
'I don't know. I don't know!" My feet cut over the floor, taking me toward the window.
The snow from earlier is a solid blanket untouched by any living thing. I watch it for a moment until I see my own reflection in the window's glass. The torment on it looks the same as Asher's when he exited his car.
'I wasn't sure what to do," I whisper. 'I thought I'd figure something out; maybe you'd never discover Roman, and then maybe there'd be a way for him to move on after you killed Yannick … But clearly that was too stupid to hope for. I've seen them together, Asher. He loves his father." I toss him a mournful frown. 'And because of that, he will hunt you to the ends of the earth."
Asher comes up behind me. I turn away, but I can still see his reflection. 'You were trying to protect him without a plan."
'Because he's just a child, Asher. A little boy."
Setting his hands gently on my shoulders, he sighs into my hair. 'You're not wrong to fear the unending cycle of violence. I think about this all the time. I've always wondered, if Yannick ever killed me, would my men try to avenge me? Would Mila?" His grip tightens. 'Would you?"
Yes, I think instantly. I would.
'And his men," he goes on. 'Surely some would risk their lives for his memory. Even before knowing about Roman, I knew these risks." Turning me with enough force that I can't resist, he makes me face him. His fingertips drag over my forehead, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. 'I know there has to be a way to break that cycle. And I will find it."
I don't need to see my reflection to know how miserable my smile is. 'But will you find it in time? Whether he kills you, which I couldn't bear, or you kill him, this violence has no end in sight." Pushing out of his grip, I pace back toward the stairs. When I reach them, I drop down heavily on the second to last step.
'When did it all get so complicated? All I ever wanted was to be Camila Marakov. That girl had struggles, but they were honest, clean problems. But instead, I'm forced to be Camila Yannickevna and live in this world stained with blood." I turn to look at him. 'Forced to make choices I never wanted to make."
Asher remains by the window. He doesn't blink; he simply considers me. Shrugging out of his soaked and filthy jacket, he lets it fall to the floor. His boots go next. When he's in just his dry undershirt and pants, he comes my way, standing over me with his hand on the banister above my head. 'Whatever choices we need to make, I will make them with you."
'No, Asher." Tilting my head, I shoot a bittersweet grin up at him. 'You've made those choices for me. The moment you dragged me away from Topher's Lounge, you forced me into this corrupted world without a choice."
All the stress of waiting to know what Asher would do tonight collapses onto me at once. I fold in half, burdened by the load as it becomes sludge that drips through my muscles and bones.
'If I knew all of this was going to happen, I would have gladly allowed Mom to sign your contract and walked away."
'Camila …"
Lurching to my feet, I climb the steps until I'm halfway up. He's below me, one of the rare times I can look down on the powerful man whose word can grant life or death.
'Like it or not, I'm bound to you now. I'm nothing more than your ptichka—a little bird locked up in a cage you built for me, too stupid to realize you've already broken my wings."
