Page 112 of Vexatious Queen

“I’m not sure. Maybe I was hoping for forgiveness.”

“You don’t need my forgiveness.”

His brow furrowed.

“Tell me something, Vadin. Why did you betray my father? What did he and my mother do that was so terrible that you waited until the day of their betrothal announcement—my mother’s birthday—to crush them? Have you always been so cruel in your need to make the Mikhailov name great?”

“I was very angry with your father for a long time, but the truth is…I didn’t hate him when I betrayed him. On paper, he was the best candidate to marry my daughter, except for one thing: he was not Russian.”

“Let me get this straight. You tore them apart because Edmundo is Italian?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, disgusted. What a horrible and despicable reason.

“You have to understand, Lilya, I was brought up in a different time. My views on family and legacy were ingrained in me at a young age, and I followed them to the letter. It wouldn’t have mattered if your father were from any other country. Edmundo is not from our homeland, and it meant everything to me to have my family remain close.”

His xenophobia had wiped away the little bit of the sentimental goodwill he’d managed to create.

“The night Edmundo came to me, and I accepted his proposal, I fully intended for them to wed. But while he sat in my office, I received a call.”

“Let me guess, from Christov?”

“No, from his father. Mr. Ivankov Sr. was aware that his son was having a torrid affair with a woman he deemed undesirable. He also knew that Edmundo had come forward with an offer. He could not match what the young Genovese brought to the table, but he did possess important government connections across the country. He had pull and the ears of many of the oligarchs. What he offered was unlimited access to everyone and everything I desired to ensure that the Mikhailov name remained both feared and respected throughout Russia. No, it wasn’t as lucrative, but marrying Yuliana to Christov gave the Mikhailovs immediate power.”

“And Christov was Russian,” I said, mockingly. “I am Edmundo Genovese’s daughter, the man you betrayed, and yet here you are, sitting at this table, wanting to reconnect? It’s a little…ironic, don’t you think?”

“I regret my decision, Lilya. I have never regretted anything before that night. I was blinded by the possibilities and allowed my pride to reign. Sadly…what Yuliana wanted no longer mattered.”

“What about Sabastian,” I asked, curious if he had figured it out yet.

“What about him?”

“Do you know that he is not your grandson?”

Vadin’s nostrils flared slightly.

“You lie.”

“He’s here in the school if you want to confirm it with him. But he’s not my mother’s son. Have you been in touch with Christov?”

“Not in sometime,” he said, but there was a slight inflection to his tone that told me he was lying.

It was the only lie I’d picked up on so far, but I sensed it like a bloodhound. Liam was rubbing off on me.

“Did you know Christov was abusing my mother,” I asked, not letting him out of the hot seat. “And don’t lie to me,” I said, the knot in my stomach made me feel sick.

“I did.”

“And you forced her to stay with him?”

He looked down. “Yes.”

“How? How could you do that?” I stood, fists clenched, my anger at a boiling point. “She trusted you and loved you, and you were supposed to protect her, protect us, and you chose power instead. How can you even ask me to forgive that?”

Nash stood with me, his hand going to my waist. A gentle reminder to keep calm. I was trying, but it was so hard. Liam was right. Picking scabs on old wounds did nothing but harm.

“I can’t go back in time, Lilya, but I would, if I could. I would make so many different choices, starting with allowing your mother and Edmundo to marry,” he said.

His eyes pleaded with me to forgive him, but I couldn’t.