Page 138 of Ivory Ashes

Did she leave him and break his heart? Is that why he’s so closed off with me? Because his true love is running around out there without him?

Mikhail sighs and I can see the exhaustion written all over his blood-stained face. Maybe it’s the only reason he’s saying any of this. He’s too tired to realize all of his walls are down. I don’t want to make a noise and remind him.

“We got married young. I thought I loved her, but I don’t know anymore. I loved her as much as I could at the time,” he amends. “I was young and stupid. I thought I could take care of them.”

“‘Them’?” I ask before I can stop myself.

Alyona and the baby. I close my eyes, half-wishing Mikhail would refuse to answer. I don’t think I want to hear this.

“My daughter. Anzhelina.”

He has another kid. Mikhail has another wife and another child. I’m just one in a long line.

Alyona. Helen. Me.

“She was only three months old.” His voice catches and every thought in my head disappears.

“‘Was’?” I rasp, echoing yet another word like some dumb parrot. “What happened to her?”

“They killed her,” he croaks, eyes closed. A single tear carves through the smear of blood on his cheek. “Alyona wanted me to stay with her and Anzhelina. The fight with the Colombians amounted to no more than a turf war and she didn’t like how often my father sent me to the front lines. She thought I deserved some level of protection as the pakhan’s son. Like Trofim. But I wasn’t Trofim; I was just another soldier in my father’s eyes. So when one of our warehouses was attacked, he sent me to lead a group of men and take it back. But it was a distraction. The real target was the inner circle. The family. And since they couldn’t get to my father or Trofim… they went after my family.”

He’s hurling the information at me so fast I can’t process all of it, but I understand what’s important.

Mikhail had a family… and he lost them.

The room spins, but I fight to stay standing. If Mikhail is still standing after everything he lost, it’s the least I can do. Be here to support him.

“Mikhail, I?—”

“All the men had been pulled to the main house—this house—and there was only one security guard at the gate to my house. He didn’t stand a chance. Alyona took Anzhelina into the safe room, but they pried it open. They dragged them out and—” He swallows hard. “I had the house torn down and I kept the caskets closed at their funerals.”

Silent tears pour down my cheeks, but I force back a sob and reach for his hand. “Mikhail, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I would have…”

What would I have done? Would I have let Mikhail raise Dante to make up for the child he’d already lost? If I’d known his daughter had been stolen from him, would I have still kept Dante a secret?

I don’t know. So I don’t finish the sentence.

Turns out, I don’t need to.

Mikhail rips his hand away from me. When he looks at me now, I know he’s seeing me. Wherever he went to dig up that story, he’s back now. So are his walls.

“I stood over their graves and I swore I’d never let myself be that weak again. That I would never let anyone bring me that low. It’s why I proposed to Helen. I was going to marry her to solidify my alliance with the Greeks. Then…” He looks at me pointedly.

He found me.

We got married.

We fell in?—

“I found out about Dante,” he finishes sharply, slashing through my naiveté. “I have the power and position to keep you and Dante safe, but I won’t let myself be distracted with a family or childish notions of love. You two will be safe here. That’s all I can promise.”

Hot and cold. Up and down. I’ve cycled through every possible human emotion since being startled awake five minutes ago and I can’t stop the tears from pouring down my face.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” I whisper. I hate that I’m begging. I don’t know why I even bother. I know it won’t do any good. “We could be happy, Mikhail. You and me and Dante… we could?—”

“Stay inside and stay out of my way. I have enough to worry about.”

He turns and leaves without even a glance back.

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