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“We were never together,” she retorts. “Whatever the hell was going on between us, it wasn’t a relationship.”
“Funny, because I distinctly remember it being a pretty big sticking point for you that I not be with anyone else while I was fucking you. Seemed to be a big problem when Viktoria showed up yesterday, too.”
Her jaw works back and forth as she dreams up whatever lie she’s about to spew. “I was upset after you left town. I wanted to get you out of my system.” She casts her eyes over my shoulder, unable to meet my gaze. “So I went to a bar and I had sex with someone else.”
“Bullshit.”
“I did!” she insists through gritted teeth. “He was some random guy. I don’t even know his name. Three weeks later, I found out I was pregnant.”
I nod slowly. “Wow. You must really have a type, then.”
“What does that mean?” she snaps.
I lean forward, forcing her eyes to mine. “It means I have eyes. That little girl looks like me, Rayne. Her dad must be my twin.”
Rayne twists away from me and crosses her arms.
I follow her, breath hot in her face. “It’s ridiculous to pretend that child isn’t mine. I knew it the second I laid eyes on her.”
Rayne’s eyes are fixed on the street, but in profile, I can see her chin wobbling.
The rage in me simmers, pacified for the moment by the sight of Rayne on the verge of tears. I shift in front of her and lift her chin to look at me. “Rayne… tell me the truth.”
Her blue eyes go glassy. She swipes a stray tear away.
“You don’t have to lie anymore,” I tell her. “Just say it.”
She nods slowly, tears gathering in her long lashes. There’s silence that lasts an eternity. Then, at long last, she finally speaks the truth.
“Of course she’s yours, Kirill. There’s no one else it could possibly be.”
31
RAYNE
Speaking the truth isn’t a relief. It’s not an unburdening the way I hoped. Because instead of carrying around the secret, I’m now ladened with five years of guilt and shame.
“I’m sorry,” I continue, dabbing away my frustrated tears. “I should have told you. I was going to, actually.”
“When?”
Kirill’s voice is steady, but it’s steady the way the eye of a storm is steady. It’s a moment of peace before the foundations of your world are torn apart.
“Three weeks after you left,” I answer without looking up at him. “When I went to your house and talked to Sonya.”
He curses under his breath. “You thought I’d just leave my child behind without a father?”
I take a deep breath to calm myself. “You made it clear the night Ilya died that you didn’t want me around. I thought it was just the grief talking. I hoped we could talk things through. Then you were just… gone. I didn’t have any reason to believe you would care I was pregnant. Or, worse, I thought you would care too much.”
“Oh, forgive me: you thought I’d rip an infant from her mother’s arms?” He snorts. “Much fucking better.”
“I was scared, okay? I’m—I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. My world was falling apart.”
“Well, mine was going swimmingly. I loved burying my brother on the beach in the cover of night,” he hisses. “I was having the time of my goddamn life.”
My stomach turns at the thought of Kirill having to bury his own brother. If I hadn’t had Yuliana to focus on in those first few months—the first year, really—after Ilya died, I’m not sure how I would have made it through.
The fact that Kirill did it on his own… I can’t fathom it.
