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Goddamn it, what am I going to tell Natalya?
“My guess is, he didn’t plan on getting away with it.” Aleksei points out. “I think he took the easiest way out. Despite his actions, Boris wasn’t stupid. He knew about your infatuation with your little dancer. He’s also worked for me long enough to know that when one of ours is killed, we take care of their family for life. He knew you’d look after his daughter when he was gone and that I wouldn’t take out his mistakes on his family. He planned on manipulating my weakness.”
It’s no secret the Pakhan has a soft spot for children, even if their father was a thief. “Call someone to collect the body. I’ll take care of any funeral expenses.”
“I assumed as much. And they’re already on their way.” He pauses. “There’s still the little matter of the three mil.”
“Christ, Aleksei, I told you I’d cover it.”
“Consider it a wedding gift.” He walks away and gestures with a flick of his wrist for his men to follow.
I remain standing there another minute staring after them and then turn my gaze back to the body. “What were you thinking, old man?”
A part of me understands why he might have done what he did, but another part of me curses Boris for being a coward and taking the easy way out. And also for leaving it up to me to tell Natalya that her father is dead. With nothing left to do, I also walk away.
The elevator door quietly slides open and I step out into the darkened penthouse. The hum of forced air comes from the vents. Otherwise, it’s quiet. Still. The way I used to like it. Before Natalya. I drop my keys onto the side table and walk through the living area and down the hall to the bedroom. I pause in the doorway. The room is faintly lit by the light spilling from the bathroom. Natalya put some decorative nightlight in there so she wouldn’t trip over anything if she had to get up in the middle of the night.
She lies naked, the sheet having slipped down to bare one of her breasts, her hair spread over my pillow. I undress again and slide in next to her. She releases a soft sigh and a sleepy half-smile curls her lips. “Where did you go? I missed your warmth.”
I’m not sure if this is the best course of action, but I don’t want to keep a secret from her. Even if that means our time is cut short. My mother taught me early on that secrets always have a way of getting out and it never ends well when they do.
“Solnishko, we need to talk.”
Natalya’s lashes flutter and she slowly opens her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
I brush back the stray strands of hair that are stuck to her cheek and smooth them behind her ear. The silence between us extends.
She sits up and brings the sheet with her covering her breasts. “Sasha?”
“There’s no easy way to tell you this.” I blow out a breath. “Your father is dead. Aleksei called me after he found the body.”
Her face wrinkles in confusion. “Wh—what?”
“Apparently he stole money from the Italians, as well. Maybe it was to cover his debt to Aleksei. I don’t know.”
Natalya’s eyes dart from side to side and her gaze grows unfocused. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”
“I’ve arranged for his funeral, and Aleksei will make sure your mother and siblings are taken care of.”
“I just talked to him a week ago,” she says distractedly. “He was going to hire me full-time when I finished my exam. We were going to work together. His birthday is next month.”
I’ve never been comfortable or any good with grief. Death is a part of our organization. We all get used to it. I’m sure I grieved when my father was killed, but it was so long ago, I have no memory of it. I do the only thing I can. Wrap my arms around Natalya and hold her. At first, she pushes against me, but I refuse to let her loose. And then it’s as though the floodgates have burst open. A broken sob rips from her throat. Followed by another. She burrows against my chest that soon is soaked with her tears.
She clutches tightly to my shoulders while she cries like her heart is broken. I’m sure it is. While I doubt he was the best father, Natalya loved him. I’m sure he loved her as well. I continue holding her long after her tears have ceased, not wanting to let go. She falls asleep against me so I scoot us down so we’re lying side-by-side and I tuck her tightly under my arm. We’ll figure things out in the morning. One thing’s for certain. I have no intention of letting her go.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Natalya
Standing at the edge of my father’s grave, I clutch cold dirt in my fist. Tears run down my neck and dampen the top of my dress under my belted jacket. My hair pulls too tight from my bun and my shoes pinch as the heels dig into the rain softened ground. Staring into the hole, the soil and grass blur together.
“Moye serdtse.” My mother wraps me in a hug.
“You only call me your heart when I’m sick.” I lean into her.
Maybe I am sick. Sick with anger because my father’s death was avoidable. If only he’d been honest with us.
“Come, we should go.” She urges me to move and puts her hand over mine holding the clump of dirt with me.
