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He looks away. “She died,Moi sladkiy rebenok. She died during childbirth.”
I stare at him, unseeing.
“After that, I was lost, completely and utterly lost without her. I didn’t know what to do with a baby. You were such a sweet little thing, a mop of dark hair, just like your Mama. She was so beautiful, Katiya, just like you.”
I stare at him. “Where did she come from?” I whisper.
“She had no involvement with the Bratva, which is one of the reasons I also didn’t want you involved.”
“You didn’t want me?” I know I sound crestfallen, but I can’t help it.
“I wanted you very much, Katiya. Only twenty-three years ago, I was in the middle of a war with Mario Medici, amongst many others. The timing, along with losing Alina…”
I stare at him, shocked. Alina is my middle name. “I was named after my mother?”
He stares at me, his eyes watery. “Yes, it is a good strong name. I loved her so much, Katiya.”
“And you don’t blame me? For her death?”
He shakes his head. “No, my child, how could I when she wanted you so very much. We both did.”
I walk toward the window, leaving him watching after me. “I’m going to need some time,” I say quietly. All the fight has left me. “To process everything.”
“Very well.”
The silence hangs between us. My head spins.
“When you are ready, I hope that you’ll be able to understand why I did what I did.”
So many emotions build up inside me. “I want to know about her,” I whisper.
“Yes, it is time.”
“Do you have a photograph?” I turn to look at him.
He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his wallet.He still keeps her picture in there?
“This is one of many.” He pulls it out as I glance down at it.
Staring back at me is my mother. And he’s right, she is beautiful. Her face and eyes, her pale skin, they’re just like mine.
“She’s stunning,” I whisper.
He nods. “Even after all these years, I’ve never met a woman quite like her. She was the same age as you when this was taken.”
I start to cry. He looks down at me and his eyes soften, then he embraces me. I don’t know how long we stand there like that, but it’s nice to be held. Even if I am furious at him for lying to me my entire life.
“I hope one day you can forgive me,” he says, kissing the top of my head. “Please don’t cry. I can deal with anything except the tears that I have caused. I love you, Katiya. I always have.”
I sob into his chest. “I love you too, Otetz,” I whisper. “I’ve only ever wanted the love of my Father, and all this time, I thought he hated me.”
“He hated going along with this whole charade. It was always too much trouble for him, but we had a deal and it kept him comfortable without having to do too much.” He pauses to look at me, “You’ve always had the love of your Father, Katiya. Make no mistake about that.”
Tears flow down my face freely. I had no idea this could actually be true, but so many things now make sense to me.
“You want to know something else?” He tilts his head to the side with a smile. “You have a man that loves you downstairs, Katiya. Do you want to see him?”
My head snaps up suddenly at his words, “Marco?” I whisper. “He’s downstairs?”
