FOUR YEARS LATER
Life has never been the same after that night.
I was right. I lost a part of Adrian.
At first, I wanted to fix it, to tell him that it wasn’t him I hated, it was what he stood for. That me and my baby’s survival came before whatever feelings I’d developed for him.
But my pride forbid me from it. He spent weeks avoiding me, not even eating with me until his anger lessened and he came back to my side.
Our sex life is still as crazy as when we first started out. He still whips, spanks, and ties me up to the bedpost. He still takes me roughly and puts my pleasure first. But there isn’t that slightly mischievous tone or dirty talk anymore. He just gives us both what we need, then usually spends the night working.
He’s stopped hugging me to sleep when I turn away from him. Once, I was so starved for his affection that I turned around and pretended to snuggle into him during my sleep. He didn’t hug me back. But he didn’t push me away either, so whenever I feel like I’ll burst, I do that.
Adrian still has the best aftercare and goes out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable, but it’s more mechanical now. It used to feel as if he enjoyed taking care of me; however, now, it feels like a duty.
My form of rebellion is muffling my voice. When I did that before Jeremy’s birth, Adrian used to demand hearing it. He used to whip me and bring me to the brink of orgasms so I’d say something. Now, he seems content with my being mute.
We hardly talk, and when we do, it’s usually about Jeremy. My little angel has become the only reason I wake up every morning.
Okay. That’s a lie.
A small part of me, the part that never fell out of love with Adrian, still hopes that today will be better, today Adrian will trust me.
But I wouldn’t trust me if I were him. He knows I want to leave, and even though I haven’t attempted to escape again for fear of his wrath, Adrian isn’t an idiot. He’s well aware that if I get the chance, I’ll leave.
He stopped me from going to those charity events for months, probably thinking I’d leave, anyway. When I started having nightmares and falling back into a depressive hole a few months later, I told him I wanted to go out, and surprisingly, he didn’t fight me on it.
By going back to my charity work, I’ve been able to meet with Luca in the bathroom, but only for short intervals.
I haven’t really had any important information for him, because Adrian is a fort. The few times he’s taken me to the brotherhood’s meetings, he’s treated me as if I’m an annoying rock in his shoe. I hate the Adrian from the Bratva. That Adrian feels like a completely different person, a cold-hearted one who doesn’t give two fucks about me.
I hate the brotherhood and everyone in it, too, except for maybe Rai, who’s never treated me as if I’m a pest.
They despise me because I took Kristina Petrov’s rightful place. They think I tricked Adrian into marrying me by getting pregnant, that I’m a shameless gold digger and without any notable origins. Adrian has never negated that, and I don’t have the state of mind to defend myself when no one believes me.
Part of the reason why I continue to meet Luca is because I need some sort of a friend, someone whom I can feel like my old self again around. He knows I probably won’t give him anything, but maybe he also likes seeing me.
I don’t even think about Mom anymore. I know Luca won’t give me that information unless I completely sell out Adrian. That foolish corner in my heart rebels against that idea and it’s not just because of my stupid feelings toward him. It’s also because he’s Jeremy’s father.
My baby boy loves his father so much. When my episodes of depression hit and I can’t get out of bed, Adrian takes him outside and plays with him.
Besides, if Adrian is gone, Jeremy and I are doomed. I’ve realized over the years just how much power he holds. Not only in the brotherhood, in which everyone respects him, but also among all the other crime organizations who look at Sergei with envy for having someone like Adrian with him.
Maybe that’s why Luca’s parting words from the other day are bugging me. After we had our usual meeting in the bathroom, he was shifty, and when I asked him if there was something wrong as he was leaving, he told me, “It’s nothing you should worry about. I’ll take care of it.” Then, he was out of the window before I could ask him what ‘it’ is.
It could be because of that or the fact that I didn’t get to put Jeremy to sleep tonight, but I’ve been on edge all evening.
Adrian brought me to Mikhail Kozlov’s birthday party. It’s being held by Sergei in honor of his ‘brother’ of almost fifty years. Sergei sure likes to throw parties for those closest to him, and doesn’t hold back.
I huddle in a corner, clutching a glass of champagne in my stiff fingers. Usually, Rai keeps me company, but she climbed V Corp’s ladder and became a hotshot who doesn’t have time for me anymore.
Adrian sure as hell doesn’t stand with me, let alone talk to me, when we’re in the midst of his own people. But I guess it’s better this way. At least no one pays attention to me until it’s time to go home and hug my angel.
Gripping my flute of champagne, I stare at my watch, then sigh heavily when I see it’s only eight in the evening.
My clutch bag feels heavy in my hand because Adrian now makes me carry a gun. After the attack on the day I gave birth, he trained me to shoot, even when I told him I didn’t want to. He said what I want doesn’t matter, then made me hold a gun and shoot for weeks until I learned how to use it.
He also trained me to use some self-defense moves.
Adrian said it’s for when I need to defend myself when neither he nor his guards are there. I’ve never encountered such a situation since Yan and Boris are basically my shadows.
I hate that Adrian is forcing me to carry a weapon of destruction, but I’ve come to know that he’s stiff and unmovable on matters like these.
I might win some arguments, like not having the nanny come in every day or being able to teach Jer instead of the Russian teachers. In fact, most of the arguments I win are about Jeremy. He lets me have freedom in raising him, but other than that, he’s been guarded since that night.
As if expecting me to run again.
Not that I could with the heavy security. Besides, the thought of him taking Jeremy away gives me damn nightmares.
“If it isn’t the lovely hidden beauty?” an amused voice calls from behind me before Damien joins me. Soon after, Kirill appears out of nowhere and stands next to him.
I groan internally, even as I nod in greeting. Their company is the last thing I need. Kirill is always somehow trying to interrogate me about Adrian, and Damien seems happy to throw jabs at me.
At the beginning, I found it hard to keep up with who’s who, so I made a long-ass digital document with Ogla’s help to specify who is who in the Bratva. Surprisingly, Adrian didn’t mind and even told Ogla to assist me. But then again, he fully expects me to stay by his side, so he wouldn’t worry about me making an educational file about his organization.
“Adrian said you were sick,” Kirill muses, running his cunning gaze over me. “You look pretty good for someone who’s sick.”
“I got better,” I speak in a quiet voice, glad that Adrian lies about my health all the time so I’m not expected to attend.
Even though he does it because I embarrass him, I’m happy that I don’t have to meet these people often. When I’m with Jeremy back at home or volunteering at the shelter, I feel like I’m detached from them and their criminal activities.
“Now, Lia.” Damien grins. “What’s really going on? Is he bruising you, so you can’t come out? Tell Rai about it, and she’ll help since she’s into all of that women standing up for women shit.”
“That’s not it.” I’m slightly offended on Adrian’s behalf. He might be cold and aloof, but he’s the best family man among all of them. He’d never hurt me or Jeremy.
Kirill adjusts his glasses with his middle and ring fingers. “Then what is it?”
I gulp past the lump in my throat. As much as I’ve seen them over the years, these two scare me, especially after the stories Yan told me about them. How Kirill was in the special forces and killed more than anyone can count, or how Damien beats people to death if they so much as piss him off.
Sometimes, I think I was lucky to land on Adrian’s radar, not theirs. Because spending a minute in their presence has turned me itchy and fidgety.
“He asked you something, beautiful,” Damien insists.
“Why don’t you ask me?”
I release a breath at Adrian’s voice, and I peek at him as he stands beside me, his entire attention on Kirill and Damien who don’t seem happy that their fun was halted.
With careful fingers, I bring the glass of champagne to my lips and take a sip to calm my nerves.
Adrian’s presence sends a mixture of relief and a stab of chronic agony to my aching chest. One-sided emotions are the work of the devil. Not only do they hurt all the time, but they also keep me hoping, pining. Even when I know that Adrian isn’t capable of returning such emotions.
I know he cares. I know Jeremy and I mean something to him, but it’ll never be more than that. He’ll never look at me the way I secretly look at him when he’s not paying attention.
And that hurts more than I care to admit.
Adrian’s face is a blank mask, but I can’t help admiring the serene look covering his features and the sharp edges of his cheekbones. He’s wearing a black suit with a light gray shirt that matches the color of his eyes. He really only ever has those types of dark colors in his wardrobe. And because I volunteer, my taste in clothing is no longer flashy, but more like his, modest and reserved.
“Adrian.” Kirill smiles. “We were just telling Lia how lovely it is that she’s joining us tonight.”
“I thought you said she was sick.” Damien raises a brow.
“She obviously isn’t tonight.” Adrian keeps his cool voice, even though his body is slightly turned toward me.
“Can you tell us more about her sickness that seems to come and go on a whim?” Kirill taps a contemplative thumb on his lips. “I’m curious.”
“I don’t answer to you, Morozov,” Adrian drawls. “In fact, it’s the other way around, so why don’t you turn around and leave?”
Kirill’s expression doesn’t change, but a grin is plastered on his lips. “My, my. This is interesting.”
“What?” Damien’s gaze flits between the three of us. “What’s interesting? What did I miss?”
I’m about to down the glass of champagne in an attempt to douse the tension when I catch a glimpse of a shadow moving in the background. It’s across from me, diagonally to the hall that leads to the back entrance. I know it because I’ve often slipped in there to find Yan and hide from the onlookers.
The unease I’ve felt since a few days ago rushes back in like a merciless hurricane.
I’ll take care of it.
My eyes widen in remembrance of Luca’s words. No. Don’t tell me he…
I don’t get the chance to think about it when metal glints in the corner. I drop my glass of champagne and grab Adrian by the sleeve, then pull him down so we’re both tumbling against the tables.
A shot rings in the air and a collective gasp follows.
Adrian’s large body drops atop of mine and his hard chest covers my front on the ground. He retrieves his gun, and I stare at his face a few inches away from mine.
I feel up his sides, mechanically searching for a wound. That was so close, what if he…what if he…
Adrian grabs my face, his voice harsh as doom. “Are you hurt?”
I shake my head.
“Use your voice, Lia.”
“No. Are you?” Both of my hands are digging in the sides of his jacket, but I still want to make sure he’s okay.
“I’m fine.” He releases a sharp breath. “How did you know?”
“I…I saw a shadow, then a glinting of metal in the corner.”
“Fuck, Lia. You should’ve gotten down first.” His eyes clash against mine, and unlike the past four years, there’s fire in there, passion, and the utter care I thought I would never see again after that night.
I almost cry with relief, but the sensation is short-lived when he shakes his head, his expression hardening again. “You have your gun on you?”
“Uh…yeah.” It’s in my bag that’s still in my hand.
“Stay here.”
Damien and Kirill jump to their feet, running to where the shooter disappeared to.
Adrian pushes off me in one graceful movement, then pulls the table down to hide me underneath it. “Yan will get to you.”
He turns to leave, but I clutch his sleeve, my tongue feeling heavy in my throat as I murmur, “Don’t…die.”
And I mean it, I don’t want anything bad to happen to him.
He gives a curt nod before he follows the others.
I don’t stay there, though.
As soon as they’re gone, I push up from behind the table and flatten myself against the wall as I avoid the chaos in the crowd.
Adrian and the others are headed to where they thought the shooter disappeared, but if my gut is right and Luca is behind this, he won’t be so obvious.
I once told him that one of the cameras near the staff’s entrance has a delay in recording. I only found out because Rai mentioned it, saying they don’t use it that much, anyway, since most staff are live-in.
Luca must’ve used that information to get in. I don’t think the shooter is him, but I have no doubt that he’s somewhere near.
The first time I met Luca was in elementary school. He was adopted and hated it, and since his parents were of Italian heritage and I missed Italy, I wanted to be friends with him. I told him I’d lost my parents and he said he’d also lost his mom and dad, and that’s how we bonded. However, Luca always played in the background, even then.
He was secretive when we were young, but whenever he pulled a prank or took revenge on the kids who bullied him, he made sure to be present to watch.
That’s why I’m positive he’s here somewhere, and I need to stop him before he really takes care of Adrian.
I remain on the threshold between the back of Sergei’s house and the staff entrance, and find that the camera is not blinking at all.
My hand reaches to my gun and I snap the silencer on. Yan gave it to me in case I’m in a situation where the place is full of people and I don’t want anyone to hear. No idea why this feels like such a situation.
With careful steps, I walk into the small backyard that’s overlooking a wire fence.
I stop when I find Luca whisper-yelling at another man who’s bulkier than him with a long scar running down his right cheek. “You fucking fool. You had one mission.”
“Luca…” I breathe.
He and the man snap their attention toward me at the same time. Both are dressed in army fatigues and Luca has a mask and a baseball cap on.
“She stopped me.” The scarred man points at me with a sneer. “Fucking bitch.”
“Duchess.” Luca’s nostrils flare. “Are you protecting Adrian?”
I widen my stance, staring behind me to make sure no one is there. “I never told you I wanted him killed.”
“Well, I do. So don’t fucking get in my way again.”
I don’t know what comes over me as I raise the gun and point it at him. “I will not let you hurt him, Luca.”
“My, my, Duchess. You’ll kill me for him?”
“I don’t want to. Don’t make me.”
“What if I tell you he’s been using you all along? That he’s on the side of your parents’ murderer.”
My hand falters on the gun as his words sink to the bottom of my stomach. “W-what?”
“Here’s your truth, Lia. Adrian is only with you because he’s an ally to your father. The same father who ordered a hit on your parents in Italy.”
“You’re…just saying that because I refuse to help you anymore.”
“I’m saying that so you’ll wake the fuck up. Adrian is not on your side—never was, never will be. He’s merely serving his and the Bratva’s agenda, and keeping you as a trump card for being Lazlo Luciano’s illegitimate daughter.”
My head spins and the hand holding the gun trembles.
No. Luca is being spiteful. None of this is true. It can’t be.
“I’m out of here.” The scarred man’s voice is like nails scratching against my brain. “I’ll kill Volkov next time.”
“You fucking better,” Luca mutters.
My mind is trapped in a maze and a blow of undecipherable emotions bursts through me. Only one remains, though, as I aim the gun at the scarred man’s nape and shoot.
I didn’t even have to think about it. Hearing him say that he’d come back for Adrian’s life was enough to propel me to action. I had to stop him. To protect my husband and my baby’s father, despite Luca’s words.
Due to Adrian’s strict training, I don’t miss. The bullet lodges itself in the back of the man’s head, causing him to fall face-first on the ground. The thud is loud in the silence as he stops moving, stops breathing.
Just stops.
Oh, God.
I…killed a man. I just killed someone. A person.
And yet, no feelings wash over me. Maybe I’ve lost my soul now and there’s no way I’ll get it back.
I had to protect Adrian. I just had to.
Luca glares at me. “What the fuck, Duchess?”
“Give me evidence.” My voice is calm considering the shaking of my hand. “When I make sure your words are true, that I’m merely a pawn in his game, I’ll kill Adrian myself.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” Luca jumps on the wall and climbs it before disappearing over the fence.
I don’t stare at the man, at the life I’ve just ended with my own hand, as I approach him and crouch over his unmoving body. I drop the gun to my side and retrieve a nail file from my purse, using it to dig at his bloody gaping wound.
Adrian and the others will be here any minute, but I need to retrieve that bullet or he’ll know it was me. Since I have a small gun, it wouldn’t be hard to figure out who did it.
Bile rises to my throat and my eyes well with tears as I dig the pointy side in until I finally find the bullet, struggling for a few seconds until I pull it out.
I gather my gun, the nail file, and the bullet, then rush back inside and to one of the bathrooms. I scrub my hands and wash the file and the bullet before I tuck them into my clutch bag. I’ll have to get rid of them when I go out to volunteer.
The face that greets me in the mirror is pale, hollow, and there are tears streaming down my cheeks.
The face of a killer.
I finished a life and signed the death sentence of my innocence.
But the possibility of Adrian using me all this time might as well have issued the death sentence to my heart and soul.
