Page 16 of Ivory Oath

He stepped out of the car parked in front of the mansion and all I saw in him was myself—the spare son whose only purpose was to sacrifice himself at the altar of his family for no other reason than his father asked him to.

It’s another reason why I never considered forcing him to be a slave. We’d both spent more than enough of our lives doing that already.

“No,” I finally answer. “I don’t think my father ever drew a line. He always did whatever it took to get what he wanted.”

A string of curse words from the doorway alert us to Anatoly’s arrival. “And who is responsible for this mess?” He gestures to our father like he’s a glass of spilled milk before he kneels down in the blood and checks his pulse. “This is bullshit. I miss all the fun! First, Trofim. Now this.”

“Your father is dead,” Raoul hisses at him under his breath. “Pretend you have some decorum.”

Anatoly slowly, shamefully lowers his head and stares down at the floor. He folds his hands in front of him and looks solemn.

Then, after a few seconds, he shakes it off. “I think that was enough mourning, don’t you? Now that that’s out of the way, who in the fuck is responsible for this mess?”

I raise a hand. “He deserved it.”

“Obviously. That wasn’t in question. But what did he do this time?”

Raoul has always been appalled by our manners. Even though his father shipped him to our house and his likely death, Raoul has never said a bad word about him. Even when I know he’s burning up with anger, he’s kept a tight leash on his outward response.

But there’s no sense in me beating around the bush. Not when the elephant in the room is decaying in the corner.

“He arranged for Alyona and Anzhelina to die and framed Viviana for Trofim’s murder.”

Again, all eyes are on me.

“He killed Alyona and Anzhelina?” Anatoly asks, finally stunned.

At the same time, Raoul frowns. “Viviana didn’t kill Trofim?”

Anatoly turns to Raoul. “Wait, what? Then who killed Trofim? I don’t understand anything.”

I fill Anatoly in on everything as quickly as I can and watch as my brother practically inflates with rage. He looks twice his normal size, I swear.

“That fucking coward,” he hisses. “He murdered his own granddaughter. I don’t know why I ever expected better, but this is low even for him.”

Anatoly saw more of Anzhelina than I did in the brief few months she was alive. We were in the middle of a war and he was the primary guard stationed at our house. He was there day in and day out until the night my father pulled us both across the city to fight the cartel. The same night he knew Ruben Falcao would launch an attack on my house.

Anatoly clenches his fists at his side. If our father wasn’t already dead, Anatoly would be on his way to take him out. “Why?”

“He thought I was distracted. He thought having a family made me weak.”

“Of course he did,” he spits. “We’re talking about the man who ignored me from the second I was born and let Trofim kill my mother. Sentimentality isn’t something he ever concerned himself with. Even his beloved firstborn didn’t get a funeral after his death. We’re all just tools he can use until we snap in half. He never cared about any of us.”

Anatoly’s teeth grind together with every word. He gave up on our father a long, long time ago. That doesn’t mean he’s made his peace with him.

Now, he won’t get the chance.

“The lack of a funeral might have been on purpose since… Trofim isn’t dead.”

They both stare at me, wide-eyed. After a few long, silent seconds, Anatoly presses his fingers into his eye sockets. “It’s too late for this shit. I should be asleep.”

I walk them both through my father’s confession about Viviana stabbing Trofim but not finishing the job. About the tape he showed me and what he claimed was on the footage I didn’t receive.

“And you believe him?” Raoul asks when I’m finished. “You really think Viviana didn’t do it? What if he’s lying?”

“Why would he? The only reason I sent Viviana away is because she killed Trofim and I had no clue. It made me realize how much of a distraction she was for me. Which is exactly what Otets wanted. Why would he reveal that Trofim was alive and risk me bringing her back?”

Anatoly holds up a finger, amusement curling the corners of his mouth. “I thought you sent Viviana away because you needed to marry Helen to appease the Greeks.”

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