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“Papa, he tried to crush us!”
“And now because of you, his enemies have become our enemies. And they want to crush us.” He runs a hand through his dark hair and walks over to the window. “Katarina, I told you in the beginning you had to be very careful. You needed to listen to me. To trust me!”
“Papa, I do trust you. But if we let him take from us, how does that make us look?”
“That’s not up to you. I am the one who determines how we handle pieces of shit like Raines. You cannot see beyond the tip of your nose!”
“I’m looking out for us!”
“No!” he yells. “You’re looking for vengeance! Anywhere you can get it!”
“Why aren’t you?” I whisper. Why is it only when I’ve gotten my father so riled up over some stupid stunt that he brings up what happened? Why can’t we grieve like a normal fucking family? Why can’t we talk about what happened and how it’s turned us into cold and detached business associates instead of a father and daughter suffering the biggest loss they can imagine?
He closes his eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. “Katarina, there is no vengeance to be had. What happened was not because of my business. The police said it was a random break-in by some thugs who were looking for quick cash so they could buy drugs. We’ve gone over this again and again. What are you looking for? When will you accept it?”
Tears spill over, streaming down my face. I cover my face with my hand, trying to hide my anguish. I know damn well what I was told.
I just don’t believe it to be true. I can’t accept it. Any time some underworld slug tries to fuck us over, I feel the urge to destroy. Somewhere out there, the fuckers who took my mother and sister are lurking. And I will find them.
I know they’re still out there.
I also know they won’t stop until they put an end to the rest of the Ivanovs.
The only thing I don’t know is why, and that’s what I’ve struggled with over the past eight years.
Why did they come after us?
Why did they kill Mom and Lili?
Why did they spare me?
Why, why, why?
“Stop that crying now!” Papa grunts. “There is no room for weakness in this life. That’s the first thing I taught you. You never show weakness, do you understand? And when you act out of vengeance, it makes you vulnerable.”
I nod, swiping the tears from my cheeks.
Papa stares out at the city street, at the buildings in our view, pondering something. He does this a lot. Sometimes I think it’s because he needs to take a break from looking at me. He needs some kind of a distraction since I’m a carbon-copy of everything he lost. My mother, sister, and I could have been triplets.
Eight years gone, but God, it feels like just yesterday Lili and I were bouncing into our house on our sixteenth birthday, excited for a future that we’d never get to experience.
At least, together.
Sometimes I have a hard time looking at myself, too.
“You need to leave.”
“What do you mean, leave?” My head snaps up, eyes wide. “I’m not going anywhere!”
His eyes dart toward me. “If I say you leave, you leave.”
“Where the hell am I supposed to go? I have a life here!”
“If you want a life at all, you need to be smarter about how you handle simple instructions.”
“Great.” I walk over to the heavy bag and pound on it. It hurts without my hand wraps, but a little pain is good for the soul. I jab it a few more times for good measure and wince as my hand snaps against the leather. “So now what? You just ship me off somewhere. To Siberia?” I gasp. “No, please tell me I’m not going there.”
Papa glares at me. “I want you to lay low until I can make arrangements, yes? If you need to go anywhere, you take Alexi. I don’t want you to be alone.”
