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Somehow Yevgeniy managed to find a way to twist my father’s love for me into something vile. Something horrible.
He really is the devil.
Spreading his arms with a fond smile, Yevgeniy waits for me to throw myself into his embrace. “I’m just a father who wants what all fathers want: their family to be reunited. Now come here.”
I step backward until I make contact with Audrey’s car. “How could you think murdering someone I love—someone my mother loves—would make us want to spend a minute near you?”
His arms dip an inch. “The man you thought was your father was pathetic. By removing him, I’ve freed you.” He approaches me. I try to retreat further, but I can’t. His eyes are slits, his smile full of sugar and razors. “You can embrace your roots … your heritage … the power of our bloodline. You are Galina Yevgeniyevna and not Galina Stepanovna, and you should be grateful for that.”
“I’ll never be who you want me to be,” I spit at his feet. “I fucking hate you.”
Slowly, he lowers his arms to his sides. The smile remains, but the sweetness is gone. There’s nothing left but the razors. “Perhaps you’d change your tune if I had Arsen’s welp cut from your belly? Or would you prefer to see me kill it in front of you?”
An unbearable urge to run away takes hold of my legs. I’m moving before I think it through, shoving around Yevgeniy, bolting toward the construction equipment. I don’t have a destination, just a drive to escape.
I won’t let him kill another one of my children.
Sucking in ragged breaths that appear in the air like shifting ghosts, I hold my belly in both arms, running into the snowbank. I make it a few feet before something stops me. It’s not Yevgeniy grabbing me in the night. And it’s not me slipping on the unstable ground, though that does happen. I’m on my knees in the snow, ready to rush forward again, when my mother shouts my name.
“Galina!”
Contorting so fast that my neck tweaks, I spot her standing beside Yevgeniy. She’s dressed for the weather, her small frame bundled up in an unfamiliar midnight blue jacket that tickles her ankles. It looks brand new. Yevgeniy must have bought it for her.
With wide eyes, she stares at me across the road. Her fingers rise to her lips, nearly touching her nose, which has turned pink from the chilly wind. “Galina?” she asks again.
“Mamochka!” Running toward her, I grab her tight, not wanting to let her go as tears start falling from my eyes. “Oh my God, you’re okay!”
She hugs me in return, the warmth of it sapping my energy. I forget why I was running. I can’t think of anything but how she’s here with me. We’re together again.
Yevgeniy rips me away from her by my hair. I scream, struggling to get free, to reach my mother as he yanks harder. “You can enjoy your reunion later,” he snarls.
“Let go of me! Let me go! Mom!”
“Stop resisting!” he snaps, tugging my hair until my scalp burns. “This isn’t a game! You arranged this meeting, now be a good host and wait for Arsen to arrive.”
I quit pulling; the pain is too much. He takes me over to the house, leading me like I’m a dog on a leash. Through the window I glimpse a flash of light, a small shadow. There’s someone inside, hovering beside a lamp. Ruslan.
Yevgeniy finally lets go of me.
My mother joins us in front of the house. She moves to stand near me, but a single glare from Yevgeniy sends her scuttling to his other side.
“What are you going to do?” I demand.
Vapor exits his tightly pressed lips. He looks at Audrey’s car, then further, into the distance. “I’m going to show you the consequence of your own soft heart.”
It feels like the world is shaking, but it’s only me. The tremors travel from my feet to my guts, ultimately settling in the center of my chest. My soft heart. I’ve heard that before. It was a warning uttered by the man I thought I was coming here to help. Arsen stood over Madison mere minutes after she tried to kill him. She got close. Too close.
All because of me.
It’s happening again.
37
ARSEN
“Mi gotovi,” Mila says. We’re ready.
Casting my gaze over her head, I look around in the low lights. The snow has stopped falling, but the heavy clouds remain. The homes on the street are as quiet as graves. Just around the bend is the division that’s currently under construction. It makes sense for Yevgeniy to have set up here. There’s no one else living in the other homes. Most aren’t even finished being built.
