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For a moment, my mind blanks. “Wait… They fired you? When?”
Crap. It’s way worse than I thought.
“A few weeks ago.”
“A fewweeks?” I exclaim. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
His eyes drop to the floor, unable to look at me. “I was ashamed,” my father confesses. “I’m the man of the house. I should be able to provide. That job was all I had to support you through your lessons. To keep a roof over our heads.”
My stomach ties itself in knots. “You said something about paying someone back?”
“I was desperate,” he continues. “A friend of a friend told me about the place. A gambling den downtown. It’s not easy to find. The type of place where you need a password to get in.”
A sharp chill stabs through my chest. “This can’t be happening. Please tell me it isn’t true.”
“I wasn’t thinking. I took what little I had in our savings account and thought I’d try my luck. There’s no limit in these places. I thought maybe I could make just enough to keep us going for a little while longer. And in the beginning, I was doing really well! I made a hundred thousand and then two hundred thousand. It kept going and going. I was on a hot streak!”
Dad doesn’t even have to finish his sentence for me to understand what’s happening. I think I might vomit.
“Then what happened?” I ask, forcing myself to stomach listening to the rest.
“Fortune is a fickle lady,” he says cryptically. “One thing led to another, and suddenly I was out so much money it would make your eyes roll into the back of your head.”
I worry my bottom lip with my teeth. “And who exactly do you owe this money to?”
Dad dares to look at me, the corners of his eyes red rimmed and glossy. “Oh, Nikita.”
“Tell me, Dad. Just say it. I already know but I need to hear you say it.”
I have never known my father to be a weak man. All my life, he has been a steady fixture within our family. I love him with all my heart. When my mother was angry or disappointed in me, I could always trust that my father had a hug and kind words to share. I went to him when I had nightmares. I trusted him to tuck me in at night. I have always admired and respected him.
But right now, standing before me, he seems like nothing but a stranger.
“The Bratva,” he says gravely. “I owe the Bratva.”
I’m not sure which happens first. Does the room start spinning before the floor falls out from under me? Or is it the other way around? I suppose it doesn’t matter. Whatdoesmatter is the fact that my father owes money to the worst possible people to owe money to. We’re in a world of trouble. I’m torn between being disappointed and downright angry. But I knew all this. I’ve known for a while since it’s why I went to Loza in the first place. I’ve known, but knowing and hearing the words aloud are still two very different things.
“How much do you still owe?”
“Only a hundred thousand.”
“Only,” I scoff. “How much did you originally owe?”
“That’s not important.”
“Dad,” I state firmly. “You better tell me right now before I lose it.”
“It really doesn’t matter,” he says in a small, almost defeated voice. “I gave them almost all of your and your mother’s jewelry to pay for everything.”
My jaw drops.NowI’m mad. Now, finding him rummaging through my things that evening makes more sense. I should’ve checked my jewelry box right then and there. I would’ve found it empty. “Youwhat? How could you do that? Dad, what were you thinking?”
For the first time in my life, I see my father cry. He sobs into his palms, shoulders shaking, his face twisted with shame and grief. “I’m so sorry,” he says over and over. “I’m so sorry. I keep making mistake after mistake. I’m trying to fix this. Iwillfix this. I just need more—”
I shake my head, turn on my heels, and take the duffel bag out of my room. This day was bound to come. At least I was prepared for it. “This is what’s going to happen, Dad,” I say as I hand the wads of cash over to him. This is more than enough to cover the remainder of what you owe, and it should keep you out of trouble. You’re going straight to whoever you’re supposed to pay. You’re going to wipe your hands clean of this nonsense, and we’re going to forget it ever happened.”
He is understandably baffled. “Where did you get this much money, Nikita?”
“I pawned some of my things and Grandma’s silverware from Loza,” I say, my tone flat. “I have known about your financial misery for a while. I just thought you’d have the wisdom to resolve this yourself and in an honorable manner after Mother threw you out the first time. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Here you are, rummaging through our drawers again…”
