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I hate this sight of Mom. I’ve always known her to be larger than life, stronger too. Sometimes, downright hateful. I’ve never forgiven her for taking Aunt Annika away, but I also don’t like seeing her this helpless and with no way out.
“You can’t do this to me! I’m the mother of your son!”
“Doesn’t make you exempt from punishment.” Dad retrieves his gun and motions with it at his guards. “Put her on her knees.”
The men push her down until her knees hit the ground, her shoes making a haunting sound on the concrete as she thrashes. “No! Don’t! Are you picking Nikolai over me?”
“I’m picking the brotherhood over you. If you’re not punished properly, Nikolai will never forgive what he thinks ismybetrayal.” He pauses, looking at me for the first time tonight. “Come here, Adrian.”
Pavel gives me a slight push, then releases me but follows close behind. My legs feel as heavy as bricks as I drag them to where Dad is standing.
“You’re old enough now, so listen carefully, my boy.” Dad jams the gun against Mom’s forehead and she stares up at him with her usual haughty defiance, not even a single tear escaping her lids. “This is how you punish traitors, no matter how close they are to you.”
He pulls the trigger.
A loud bang echoes through our surroundings as hot liquid splashes onto my face.
Adrian
Age thirty-six
I’ve witnessed life ending right in front of my eyes.
Not once.
Not twice.
But countless times.
After I saw the life leave my mom’s body when I was ten years old, I had an epiphany.
Ah. Death is that easy.
Death is a pull of a trigger, a splatter of blood, and empty eyes.
If Mom, the fearless Dominika who was stronger than life itself, was killed that easily, then the act couldn’t be that hard.
That’s why I’ve never feared death. Never looked the other way from it. Never hesitated in front of it.
In fact, I barged straight into it. I conquered it and shoved it to its knees in front of me, like Dad did to Mom, then shot it in the face.
I’ve eluded the merciless clutches of death so often that I thought myself immune to it.
That in a way, death doesn’t imply to me.
Doesn’t touch me.
Wouldn’ttouch me.
That was my mistake. The error in my system.
Even though I’ve never feared the end—or anything, actually—since Mom’s execution, there’s something I’ve feared losing.
Or someone.
The world goes in slow motion, but it’s still too fast and impossible to stop.
When I followed Lia here after she sent a doppelgänger home and attempted to escape, this isn’t what I thought would happen.
