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A lump chokes my throat. “Thanks, guys.”
Where would I be without them? Dead, probably.
Movement comes at the doorway, and Nataniele enters. My stomach twists. I don’t want him here. I can’t imagine he’s got any kind of good news for me. What if he tells me I’m expelled and sends me back to Argentina? I think that really will be the end of me.
“Valentino,” he says, “you’re looking better.”
I have a vague recollection of him being in my room. “Thank you for your help.”
“Of course.”
“I should inform your father about what’s happened.”
My stomach lurches, and a rush of heat floods through me. I really might be sick. “Please, sir, don’t. I beg you. He might decide I can’t stay here.”
“Perhaps it would be for the best for you to return home.”
Three voices sound in unison, “No!”
I glance around at Mack and Dom and Kirill. They’re all fighting for me.
I duck my head. “I’d like for you to allow me to stay.”
He exhales a long breath through his nose. “There will need to be some provision put in place. You’ll need to get help. We will oversee it at the college, but you must commit. I want regular drug tests. Otherwise, no deal.”
“I understand. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”
Mackenzie takes my hand again and gives my fingers a squeeze. We lock eyes, and she smiles reassuringly. My heart clenches. I will do anything for her, even get myself off a seriously addictive drug, if I have to. I’d rather be in agony every day with no medication than have to go through a single day without her.
Chapter 33
Kirill
My palms are sweaty, and I wipe them on my jeans under the table. My father is late, which is not like him. I’ve had less than two hours’ sleep. Between worrying about Tino, and Mackenzie too, my mind kept going over and over this mess, and the position we all find ourselves in. It seems the sins of our fathers have screwed us all one way or another.
When the door to the bar bangs open, I sit up straight and lock eyes with my father. Igor, his ever-present sidekick, is right behind him. That fucker will love this. Grigoriy finally saw me as someone worthy when he thought I was going to marry Mackenzie, now he’ll see me once more as his pathetic, fuck-up son.
Still, I must do this. For her. For my brothers … and for myself. I realized something when I saw Tino in that hospital bed. The three of us are all trapped, one way or another, by our fathers. They’re making our lives hell and ensuring our futures will follow theirs.
I’d looked from Tino to Mackenzie, and something had shifted in me. If I want a life with her in it, I must be able to offer her something more than simply following in my father’s footsteps. She won’t want to live that way. If she had kids with one of us, which is crazy but it’s a possibility at some point in the future, she won’t want them brought up the way I was.
This led to a further realization. If in the future I’m not with Duchess, which kills me to think about but might be the case, would I want any kid of mine to live in fear of me the way I have of Grigoriy? The answer is no. I would not.
This ends. Right now. If it means he kills me, so be it. Then he’ll have nothing. No son to inherit all he’s worked for.
Igor smirks at me as they approach. That bone-headed fool thinks if I’m out of the picture then he’ll stand to gain, but I came to another realization as I tossed and turned unable to sleep.
One thing about my father that I finally understood in my long, dark night of the soul is how much family matters to him. He might threaten all sorts of things, but no way will he leave his empire to a lowborn piece of trash like Igor. He’d rather see it crumble to nothing than do that. For years, I’ve let my fear of Igor taking over keep me in check, but the understanding that Grigoriy would not let that happen is kind of freeing. Of course, I might be wrong. My father is nothing if not unpredictable.
He glances at Igor, and a micro-expression flits across his features. It is so brief, but I recognize it instantly. Disgust. Real, genuine disgust. Igor disgusts my father. He’s useful to him, but he’s not going to inherit it all. He’s only ever been a threat, not a realistic opponent. My father might let his goon beat me, but he won’t hand his empire to him.
I smirk back at Igor, secure in the knowledge that whatever happens, the fucker won’t benefit.
They sit opposite me, and I stare at my father.
“So?” He squares his jaw at me. “Have you done it? Is the blonde beauty going to be joining our family?”
“I want to talk to you alone.” I don’t even look at Igor.
