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The morning light barely illuminates the sheer curtains pulled across the Juliette balcony, and I get up to look outside. From the window, I see the driveway stretching beneath the window toward the street. Though the room is on the second floor, I could easily drop down onto the lawn. Without thinking about it, I try the glass door, but it’s bolted shut.
I tug at it again but quickly stop when I see one of Rurik’s men walking down the driveway toward the main road.
I hurry back to bed, and that’s when I see a box on the bedside table. I stare at it, slowly comprehending what must be inside. Grabbing it, I pull at the matte black cardboard, tearing it open by the seams. Inside is a new phone.
Larissa kept her promise.
My anxiety is overwhelming, and my fingers tremble as I tap my father’s number from memory. I will confront him about everything Nikolai said. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly before hitting the send button.
The phone rings once, twice, three times.
My father answers after the fourth ring.
“Hello?” Dad’s familiar voice is strained, and there is a threatening tone to it—the same tone that I’m so used to hearing from Nikolai. When I don’t answer, his voice changes even more and a string of unintelligible sounds comes out.
It takes me a while to realize that he’s speaking Russian, that heisZakhar Budanov, and my heart shatters.
I swallow hard before speaking. “Daddy, it’s me.” I try to steady my voice. “It’s Eden. We need to talk.”
There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. “Daddy?” I ask.
“Eden.” I hear his voice catch. Just like that, Zakhar Budanov is gone, and Michael Clark returns. “Eden, where are you?” His voice cracks slightly. “Are you okay? Have they hurt you?” Dad sounds like he’s at his wits’ end, and I can tell he’s holding back tears.
“Dad. I’m fine. No one has hurt me,” I try to reassure him without telling him anything.
“Where!” It’s a demand this time, and I hear the echoes of Zakhar.
And it scares me.
“I can’t tell you, Dad,” I reply. “I’m safe. I’m not with Nikolai … We have to talk … about you.” I pause, trying to find the right words. “About Zakhar.”
He’s quiet for a moment before finally answering, his voice filled with resignation. “We’ll talk when I get you home.”
“No, Dad, we need to talk now.” There’s another long silence, and I feel like I will throw up from the tension. “Tell me the truth.”
I feel a lump in my throat blocking my words, and my stomach feels like it’s made of lead. But I have to ask. I sniffle back my tears before continuing.
“I want to know about your past … your real past.” I pause. “As Zakhar Budanov.”
He doesn’t say anything, but I can hear him breathing.
“Please, Dad,” I plead. “I heard you speak Russian just now. Please don’t lie to me like everyone else has.”
“Eden.” He takes a deep breath. “I love you more than anything in this world, and I would never do anything to hurt you. I just want you to be safe. Please believe me when I say that.” He pauses again. “What I did was in my past. But you’ve always been my future.”
“I know, Daddy.” I wipe away tears with the back of my hand. “They told me you were one of them. That you were a member of the Starukhin Bratva.” I swallow hard. “Nikolai said that you’re a traitor, that you were an … Avto—Av …”
“Avtoritet,” he completes the word. “I never wanted you to find out like this.” His voice is choked, and I can tell he’s holding backtears. “I was all those things, but I’m no traitor. I would never betray my pakhan.”
I inhale sharply. The names, the titles, the customs, the effortless way they roll off his tongue like they’re second nature. “Then what happened, Dad?” I ask. “Please tell me. I have to know.”
“Eden, you can’t trust Nikolai Starukhin. Or the men who work for him.”
“He’s the only one who hasn’t been lying to me,” I reply. “He’s the only one who’s told me the awful truth.”
“Eden, I’m sorry.” Dad sounds truly remorseful, and I continue to listen. “I’m so sorry I kept all that from you. But I did it toprotectyou, Eden. I didn’t want you to be scared of me. Of what I was.”
“I’m not scared of you, Dad.” My voice catches on my tears. “But I’m angry with you.”
