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“You need to stop defending the bastard, Mia,” Jeremy says.
“Not when all of you are ganging up on him.”
“Why is Brandon here?” Nikolai asks out of nowhere.
“What?” I sign.
“Just now, you said Brandon is here. Why is he?”
“He texted me that you could’ve been hurting Lan, which turned out to be true, so I told him to meet me here. I’m glad I did. At least he can give Lan a ride.”
“Mia…” He growls as he barges toward me.
“I’m going home,” I announce. “To New York. I obviously don’t have any rational support here. Maya lied to me and you shut me up.”
He curses under his breath as I push past him toward the door.
Maybe talking to Mom and Dad is my best chance to protect the fragile happiness sand castle I’ve been building.
35
MIA
Home has always been my sanctuary. A place in which I can unplug and be myself.
Not that I’ve found trouble being myself everywhere else, but whenever I’m in the presence of Mom and Dad, I feel like a kid again. Maybe childishly so.
The second Maya and I step through the door, we’re greeted by Mom’s radiant face. She’s dressed in an elegant knee-length burgundy dress with a belt that enhances her hourglass shape. An off-white jacket rests on her shoulders, giving her a sophisticated edge.
Her eyes glitter in a dreamy blue as she engulfs me in a bear hug. As soon as I inhale her warmth, the urge to burst into tears hits me out of nowhere.
All of a sudden, I’m that little girl who was trapped in the darkness with no way out. This moment is similar to when she and Dad found me.
I felt the same sense of crippling emotion when he personally came to pick me up at the airport after our private jet landed.
Yes, my parents have a private jet. It was actually Mom’s wedding anniversary gift from Dad. He got a lot of shit from Grandpa about it, but Dad told him he’s the reason their family has so much money in the first place, so if he decides he’ll buy his wife a plane or the moon itself, he has no say in it.
Grandpa Mikhail is more old-fashioned than the English monarchy, but he’s been present our entire lives. While he clashes with Dad sometimes, they actually get along pretty well. Mom said they found each other late in life, so that’s probably why Grandpa dotes on us more than his other grandkids. He’s spoiled us rotten since we were young and has never hidden the fact that we’re his favorites.
He learned sign language for me at an old age and often invited us over, despite having countless other grandchildren.
So it’s no surprise that he also accompanied Dad to the airport. Grandpa said that he wanted to see ‘his girls’ first. He received a call about some trouble one of my uncles is causing and we separated at the airport, but not before he told us we need to spend a day or two with him before we go back to the ‘tasteless’ Brits.
He and Dad definitely agree that we should’ve stayed on US soil so they could keep an eye on us.
My fingers dig into Mom’s back, probably harder than needed. But she doesn’t complain and even strokes my hair. “I missed you so much. I can’t believe I haven’t hugged my babies for months on end.”
“My turn.” Maya basically pushes me away so she can hug Mom.
Dad wraps an arm around my shoulder and I hug his waist, leaning my head on his chest. Since a young age, Dad has always had a smart, casual style and he rocks suits, like his current black Armani, better than a model. Whenever he and Mom are in public, they attract more attention than celebrities.
It’s part of the reason why I prefer not to go out with them much. Maya, however, is all over that crap, considering she needs attention as much as air.
I crave my parents' company in private, though. Being surrounded by them offers me a much-needed escape from my head. So I tighten my hold on my dad. He smells like cedarwood and safety. This scent reminds me of when they first found me in that basement. As Dad carried me in his arms, I hid my face in his chest and remained so still, I don’t remember even blinking.
It took me a few minutes to fill my lungs with him and realize it was finally over.
Or was it really?
