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Belov reclines in his chair, crossing his legs nonchalantly as if my words mean nothing. “I had an affair with your mother when I was eighteen. I was a guard in your parents’ home. Your father worked for the Inanov Bratva at the time and was never home. Your mother was lonely.” He shrugs. “The affair was brief. Shortly after it ended, your parents moved to America.”
My brows crease together. The timeline tracks. My parents moved to Brooklyn when my mother was newly pregnant with me. My father was supposed to expand the Ivanov Bratva into the US, but instead he met Serge Kozlov and helped him establish the Kozlov Bratva.
“I didn’t know Mina was pregnant, if I had…” Belov’s expression tightens as if he’s grappling with something. “I only learned of your existence when you were seventeen, shortly after Kiril died. I met Serge Kozlov at a party, he was showing me pictures of his boys, and you were in one of those photos. The moment I saw you, and realized your age and your mother’s identity, I knew you were my own flesh and blood.”
“No.” I shake my head furiously. “Why wouldn’t my mother tell me?” Suddenly, an old memory comes to me, a memory of sitting by my mama’s sickbed, when I thought she was delusional.
“Your father… Alyona, you need to be careful of him,” she’d whispered. “Stay away from Russia.”
I stand and pace the room. My dress clings to my back, damp with sweat. Questions flood my mind. Did my mother know there was a chance I was Belov’s? Did my father know?
Maxim gets up and opens a window, perhaps sensing my rising anxiety. Perched on the edge of his desk, his voice is steady as he continues. “I approached your mother, asked her if there was a chance you were mine. She denied it, but I am a powerful man, and I found a way to confirm it by DNA.” Belov hands me a sealed envelope. “The proof,” he says simply.
The envelope sits heavily in my grasp. It’s like Pandora’s box. Once opened, there’s no returning to blissful ignorance. But living in denial is an ugly thing. With shaking hands, I rip open the envelope. The first piece of paper is the result of the paternity test. One phrase sears into my brain as I scan the page—positive match.
Betrayal rips through me, the truth now undeniable. Gritting my teeth, I move on to the other document, a letter in my mother’s unmistakable handwriting.
Maxim,
As you have now discovered, Alyona is your daughter. I genuinely believed that her not knowing the true nature of her paternity was for her ultimate benefit. However, since you have forced my hand, we must establish an understanding.
Kiril cherished Alyona deeply and raised her as his own. Alyona reciprocated this love for her Papa—his passing has left her emotionally shattered, and I am deeply concerned that any further disruptions in her life could significantly impact her mental and emotional health.
Hence, I ask you to respect my wishes and refrain from any contact with Alyona until she reaches the age of 25.
Please understand that my request is not meant to deny your rights as a father. Instead, it is an effort to protect our daughter from any unnecessary emotional turmoil until she is old enough to understand and handle the impact it may have.
I trust that you will respect my wishes and put Alyona’s interests above all else.
Regards,
Mina
Tearing the letter into shreds, I let the fragments scatter onto the floor. Belov watches me, his face stoic. Fury blazes through my chest, hot and consuming. Anger at my mother for allowing me to live a lie, at Papa for letting my mother slip into another man’s arms. But above all, I’m angry at Belov for hunting me down like I’m an animal, only to unload this shit.
“Even if you are my father, I don’t want you in my life. If you had approached me differently, maybe I would have thought about it. But this? No. Thank you for respecting my mother’s wishes, but I want to go home now.”
Lines deepen in Belov’s forehead. “I am afraid that is not possible.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why?”
“Like you said. I abided by your mother’s wishes. I waited until you were nearly twenty-five, allowed you to have a full life on your own terms. But now it’s time to take your rightful place as my daughter. You are my only heir, and as such, you will help lead my empire. And one day, it will be yours.”
Hell no. “Consider finding a wife and producing another heir, because this one isn’t interested.”
I start towards the exit, but Belov’s words stop me. “You misunderstand me. I’m not asking, I’m telling you.” His voice is low and calm, but it’s laced with a lethal edge.
“You can’t force me to be your daughter, to join your world!” I snap, my voice trembling. Belov is not a man used to hearing the wordno, but I plan on holding my ground, despite my fear.
“That’s where you’re mistaken.” He seems to rise up before my eyes, the room shrinking around his commanding presence. “I’m not saying this as your father. I’m stating this as a man with the power to halt the world on its axis if I so decide. Youwilljoin this family and take your rightful place by my side.”
My eyes narrow to slits. What a soulless bastard. He’s nothing like my gentle, loving Papa. Belov is devoid of humanity. I’m ready to tell him where he can shove his ultimatum, when his next words pierce the air like an arrow.
“Choose your response carefully,” he warns. An ugly smile spreads across his face. “I’m aware of everyone in your life that you care about, everyone that you hold dear. Your brother, Kira… Leonid Kozlov.”
My throat clenches, fear and fury battling within me as his words settle into the pit of my stomach. “What are you saying?”
“You’re a smart girl. Don’t make me spell it out.”
