Alik is breathless. “We can’t be positive, but it’s possible. What else did he say?”
I don’t dare look up. “He said that my mother was jealous. That she attacked the girl. Broke her. Th-that there was a lot of blood.” I close my eyes, trying to hide from what I have to say. “If the Russian Renzo is referring toisyour sister, then he had her. Kept her. And my mom got jealous and I think she killed her. My parents took her from you. I’m so sorry, Alik. So, so sorry.”
I don’t realize I’m crying until Alik touches my face, his thumbs wiping away moisture. “My dad took her, and my mom killed her, and I’m just so sorry.” I choke on a sob, more tears falling. “I don’t know what else to say.”
The next thing I know, I’m sitting in Alik’s lap on the sofa. He holds me tight and I try to stop myself from snuggling in. I really do. But, I can’t help it. I’m going to relish the feel of him while I still have the chance.
My face is pressed to his shoulder and Alik says, “This isn’t your fault,moya voitelnitsa. You don’t need to apologize. You’re not responsible for what they did.”
I sniffle, burrow deeper. “I don’t know about yourbratva, but guilt by association is a real thing in our mafia. If your family killed me in retaliation, no one in mine would blink twice.”
Alik tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. “Your family and my family are not the same. No one is going to hurt you because of what your parents did. No one would even dare try. That I can promise.”
I don’t dare trust the conviction in his voice. “You don’t hate me for what they did? For the fact that my blood relatives killedyours?”
“You are not your parents, Sera. You are not your family. What they did to Rina was unforgivable and they’ll pay for it. Just like they’ll pay for what they did to you.” Alik cups my jaw and, no matter what I said about saying goodbye, I can’t stop myself from leaning into his touch. “Tell me the truth now—why did you follow your father into the club?”
“God, it was such a stupid move. Stupid and impulsive. I was surprised to see him. I haven’t seen him for years, and then for him to pop up at the same place where you were following a lead? I couldn’t just sit in the car and wait to see what happened.” I pause. Consider what I’m about to say next. I was the one who asked for honesty after all. “And, maybe, I was looking for an excuse to go inside and see what you and that woman were doing.”
Alik grins, a flash of mirth in the midst of a massive mess. “So… youwerejealous.”
“Yes, you jerk. You know I was. It’s not an attractive trait, I know, but I couldn’t help it. I hated seeing her touch you.”
He drops a soft kiss on my lips. “I understand,moya voitelnitsa. You have much more restraint than I do. If I saw another man touch you, nothing would stop me from ripping his hands clean off.” Alik sobers, returns to our conversation. “And when we talked in my office, why didn’t you tell me Renzo is your father?”
“Because he’s horrible. I hate that he’s the man who got my mother pregnant. I hate that he played any part in creating me. It’s not like we have any kind of relationship. He was gone most of my childhood, thank God. Only came back occasionally to torture me.” A rumble sounds in Alik’s chest; I press my palm against it. Addicted to the beast growling inside. “I don’t think of him as my dad. In fact, I try not to think about him at all.”
“And your mom?”
“Martina, Rocco’s sister. Technically speaking, she’s alwaysbeen around, but she more or less shut down when Renzo walked out when I was ten. When he left, she blamed me. Said it was because I was too disobedient, too ugly. Too much of a tomboy. I hated dolls and loved sports, and they both hated that about me. Since then, our relationship has been pretty much non-existent.”
Alik whispers something against my forehead. It’s in Russian and I have no idea what it means, but he sounds just as mad at my mom as I used to be. “It’s okay. I’m okay. I gave up trying to make her love me a long time ago. I might not know who I am, but I don’t regret the person I was. My family pretty much left me alone until I graduated high school. I did all the teenage things. Had friends, played soccer. Went to parties. Got my driver’s license. Skipped classes. I had a good time. At least in that part, I was happy.”
“And after you graduated?”
I shrug, lean into his strength and solid warmth. “My life as I knew it ended. No one told me why, no one gave me any warning. My uncle just took away my car keys, my phone and computer, my debit and credit cards, and put me under guard 24/7. I couldn’t see anyone from my old life and couldn’t go anywhere unless Rocco gave the go-ahead and a guard went with me. It was pretty much limited to running errands for the family, so eventually I just stayed home, isolated from everyone most of the time. And it stayed that way until Rocco brought me to the basement.”
Alik stiffens, a new tension infusing him. “Did Renzo say anything about why your uncle took you?”
“Actually, he did.” I meet Alik’s wary gaze. “Something about paying off a debt he owes the Albanian. Let me see if I can piece it together… Renzo said he had to pay back Shkodra for what my mother did to the Russian girl, who we’re assuming is Rina. That he owed the Albanian a woman. Rocco had lined one up, but she’d gotten away. So they were left with using me. Apparently Shkodra has a type and I fit it. Woohoo.”
“Virgins.” Alik’s voice is hollow. “Women with fight. And from mafia families. The purer their blood, the better.”
Something about the way he says it sends icy trails across my limbs. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Your uncle told me during one of our conversations.”
“When you were torturing him for information?”
“Da.” Alik’s expression is unreadable. “Rocco is dead, by the way. Renzo killed him.”
“Oh.” I let the news sink in. Expect a solace that never comes. “I’m not surprised, and I’m definitely not sad about it. But somehow knowing that doesn’t make me feel better.”
Alik kisses me again, longer this time, his hands lingering on my neck and shoulders, fingers drawing sparks down my spine. It’s a mixture of desire and comfort but, despite how good it feels, I can sense that Alik is holding something back.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” I ask when he pulls away. “Something else you’re not telling me?”
His sigh feels bottomless. “Yes,moya voitelnitsa, there is. And I hate it, hate that I have to tell you, but we agreed to be honest…”