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Toma bows his head and then slips out of the room, closing the door behind him. Emery immediately shifts her oxygen mask off of her face. “Am I in trouble?”
“Always. But you’ve been punished enough for one day.”
She smiles, but it’s a thin veneer over her true feelings. I can see the reality of what happened starting to sink in. The way sadness pulls at the corners of her mouth and her eyes.
I step forward and sit on the edge of the bed. “I should have killed Yasha when I had the chance. Then this never would have happened.”
“No. You couldn’t have stopped it. Sofia was working on her own,” she says. “She went off-book to get revenge on you. Yasha wasn’t happy.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he showed up at the cabin and was surprised to see me there. Don’t get me wrong, they were definitely working together. When he showed up, he was doing some bit from I Love Lucy, like an inside joke or whatever. They were comfortable with each other,” she says. “But Yasha kept telling her that this wasn’t ‘part of the plan.’”
“Sounds like Sofia to do things her own way,” I mutter. “But what was the plan, then?”
Emery tugs nervously on her lip. “To overthrow you and take control of the Bratva.”
“And he thought the Volandris were going to help him?” I snort. “My brother is a fucking idiot.”
Emery nods. “That’s what I told him. Sofia was obviously manipulating him, saying that you never gave Yasha any leadership roles, never let him take charge of anything. She told him he was the best man for the job.”
“She was going to take him out once I was dead,” I say confidently. “End the entire Tasarov line.”
“That’s my guess,” Emery agrees. Then she pats her stomach. “All except for one, anyway.”
The reality of how much I could have lost today washes over me again. I press my hand over hers, and as I do, I swear I can feel the life within. The life we created. A link that can never be severed.
“But you should know… Yasha didn’t want to kill you. Not unless it was necessary.”
I snort. “How considerate of him.”
“I know it’s not much, but it’s something. He isn’t a complete monster. He still cares about you.”
I shake my head. “The little brother I knew is gone. All that’s left is the man who raped my wife and tried to steal my birthright. I’m going to kill him, Emery. That’s what has to happen.”
Emery grabs my arm and slides closer to me, curling against my side. “I just think this is going to be more of a punishment for you than for him.”
“I’ll still be alive.”
“Exactly,” she says. “You’ll be alive to carry the memories yourself… the good ones and the bad ones. Yasha has made a lot of mistakes—”
“That’s an understatement.”
“But,” Emery continues, “he’s still your little brother. And somewhere in there, you still care for him.”
I turn and look in her eyes. “He raped you. Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not. I’m defending myself. I’m defending you, Adrik. I don’t want you hauling this burden around with you the rest of your life. And I don’t want to be the reason you had to do this horrible thing. What if you come to resent me for it?”
“Impossible.”
“You might,” she argues. “Even you can’t predict the future.”
I wrinkle my nose at that, and she smiles, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “Don’t do anything for my sake. I’m fine—thanks to you. Isabella and I are both safe. I’m alive. We created a child. You’ve done enough for me. You saved me when I thought I was beyond saving. Again.”
I’m letting her words roll around in my mind when the door opens and Toma comes back in.
“Sorry, sir, but,” he holds out a phone, “it’s a call for you.”
I pat my pockets and realize I must have left my phone in the other room. I grab it from him and answer. “Hello?”
There’s a beat and then…
“Hey, Adrik.”
Yasha.
I do my best to keep my expression neutral and my body relaxed. I don’t want to worry Emery. Not yet. Not when she is still recovering.
“Just a second,” I say, voice clipped.
I lean over and pull Emery’s mask down over her mouth and nose. “Rest.”
Her eyes narrow. She wants to ask who I’m talking to, but she knows better than to expect an answer. I get up and walk out of the room. Once I’m in the office, I press the phone to my ear.
“Why are you calling?”
“Veronika said you called her,” he says. “She told me Emery was taken.”
“You’re saying you had nothing to do with it.” It’s not a question or an accusation—it’s a statement. I want Yasha to do the talking today.
“I had absolutely nothing to do with it,” he says. “After Veronika called me, I checked around and found out that Emery was being held at the cabin. I tried to get to her. I wanted to save her for you, to make things right between us… but it was too late. I’m sorry, brother.”
It hits me at once: he doesn’t know Emery is alive.
Yasha thinks Emery died in the fire.
And that is the advantage I’ve been waiting for.
“No,” I rasp with imagined grief, impressing myself with my on-the-spot acting abilities. “Are you saying that she’s… that Emery is…”
“She died,” Yasha says solemnly. “I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. I hoped I could find her and make things right, but the cabin was on fire. There was nothing I could do. I’m so sorry.”
It’s obvious Yasha thinks I’m going to fall apart. And maybe he’d be right—if Emery had actually died.
Outside the cabin, watching smoke billow into the sky, I felt hollow. Emptier than I’ve ever felt.
But she’s alive.
And the sadness Yasha is expecting has calcified into hatred—hatred for him.
“I wanted to take you up on your offer,” he says. “I still want to take you up on your offer… if it stands.”
How quickly he shifts from fake condolences to saving his own ass.
“I can’t believe she’s gone,” I murmur.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” Yasha repeats. “I was never going to hurt her. Or you. Now, I see that we should have stuck together as a family. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks for finding her. For finding out what happened to her.”
“Of course. That’s what brothers are for. That’s what this brother is for, at least,” he says with a soft chuckle. “I’ve always been good at finding people, haven’t I?”
He’s calling on our history together. Acting as if reminding me that he’s a good tracker will be enough to make me forget everything else he’s done.
It isn’t. Not by a long shot. But he doesn’t need to know that.
“I want to see you,” I say.
