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While my father aids me to the car, I urge Emiliana in beside me. My father closes the door behind me, taps the window to let the driver know he can take us home. I nestle closer to Emiliana.
How can I possibly keep her hidden once Mikhail and I are under the same roof? He’s no fool—sooner or later, he’ll put the dates together. Realize she’s his.
And what will he do then?
I sigh and turn to look out the window. He made mistakes, grave ones, but I can no longer ignore my own. I am holding Emiliana—his little girl, who he doesn’t know about—in plain sight. Guilt attaches itself to the back of my neck, clawing at my chest, down to my belly. Why didn’t I tell him back then? I could have reached out, let him know I was pregnant with his baby. Instead, my anger ran so deep that I thought I had a right to keep our secret as mine alone. It’s clear I am no saint either. I’m still lying, keeping secrets, and for what?
I know what I’m doing is wrong and Mikhail doesn’t, but if he finds out Emiliana is his, he might never let her out ofhis sight. If that happens, my plans to save enough money for my daughter and me to escape and start afresh will crumble to nothing but dust.
No. I cannot trust him with Emiliana. We’d be at his mercy forever, the way we were at my father’s home.
I’ve dreamt of freedom for far too long to let it slip away from my grasp.
I glance over at my daughter’s sleeping form, reaching out to brush a stray curl off her forehead. She looks so much like him when she sleeps. The thought wrenches my heart. She’s so innocent, so unaware of the vipers’ nest she was born into.
Something hardens inside me. No. I will not let them have her. Any of them. If it comes to it, I will take her and run. Disappear, leave no trace. Do whatever it takes.
The car rolls through the dark city streets. Tomorrow looms, inescapable as death. I stare out into the night, jaw clenched.
You will never know she’s your daughter, Mikhail.Not while I live.
Chapter 7 - Mikhail
I awake with a start, my heart pounding. Today is the day I get married. To Caterina. My thoughts are immediately consumed by her, a raging fire that refuses to be extinguished, darting into every corner of my brain. She didn’t know she was to marry me. Is her father forcing her?
I didn’t see her after she left the dance floor hastily, and later learned she was unwell last night. Did she fake it to get away from me or was she truly unwell?
I now pace my room, raking my hands through my hair. My instincts urge me to go to her for answers, inquire about her health and motives, yet I know she wishes for distance. Her abrupt departure was a clear message—one I must respect, though it pains me. I yearn to ensure her well-being, but I must temper my desire. She needs time, and I will grant it. Still, my concern for her overwhelms me.
I care not for this wedding, only for her joy.
I pick up my phone, my fingers trembling as I dial my sister’s number. She answers on the first ring.
“Nervous about the big day, brother?” Vanya jokes. In the background, I hear commotion. “Not those flowers!” Vanya shouts at someone before bringing her attention back to me. “Mikhail, you better be getting dressed.”
“I…I worry for Caterina,” I confess. “You told me she took ill last night. Is there any news? Vanya, if needed, we can reschedule the wedding until she’s better. I would hate to watch her suffer through the day.”
My sister sighs. “Ah, I thought this might happen. Do not fret, Mikhail. Caterina is recovering well. It was merely a touch of nerves, that is all.”
I blink in surprise. “Nerves? But the wedding—”
“Will proceed as planned,” she interjects firmly. “Her father called. Caterina is a strong woman. She will be ready.”
I rake my hand through my hair in frustration. “Are you certain? I would postpone this in a heartbeat if she needs more time.”
“As would I, dear brother. But her father did pass the phone to their doctor and he assures me she’s been checked out and all is well.”
I let out a shaky breath, my shoulders sagging in relief. “Very well. As long as she is alright.”
“Of course,” she replies warmly. “I’ll see you at the wedding.”
With Caterina recovering, the wedding can go on. But I resolve to tread softly, to rebuild the trust between us. I’ll show her I will never subject her to betrayal and cruelty again, like I did when I left her in the lurch almost seven years ago.
But, how can I regain Caterina’s trust after all this time? She looked at me with such hurt and disappointment when she realized I was to be her groom. I pace my room, running scenarios in my mind.
Words alone cannot convey the depth of my devotion. I must prove myself through action, consistency. She needs to know I consider her health and happiness paramount.
