Page 3 of Mayflower

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MADDY

Tsar—that’s my father’s nickname, stemming from our last name, Tsariuk. It’s a Russian version of czar, an emperor.

Did you know that one of the most powerful nuclear bombs ever created was a Russian one, called Tsar Bomba? Yep. My dad is the embodiment of it.

It’s morning. I haven’t slept all night. I didn’t go to work or even bother brushing my teeth or making myself look presentable as I call Dad on video chat. My face is puffy from crying all night.

“Nu kak ty, rebionak?” he asks right away. How are you, child?

Black turtleneck. Gray in his brown hair. Square jaw. Thick brows. Intense dark eyes. My native language.

God, did I miss him. It feels good to have family. Still, every time we are on a call, there’s that uneasy feeling inside me that he is planning something for me that I might not like. An intervention of sorts.

Trust issues—that was the reason we started drifting apart when I moved to the US to go to high school. Dad has always had unlimited power that swung in many directions. It could be deadly, but it could sort out world’s problems if done right.

I am determined to use it.

“What did you have to do with Raven’s kidnapping?” I ask without answering his question.

“Mila, I will find out who was involved and what went down. Are you okay?”

Archer didn’t tell him about everything that went down yesterday or that I was kidnapped first. Of course, he didn’t, scared that my dad would unleash his wrath on Ayana.

But if Archer withheld certain details, I won’t.

“You should know,” I say, staring at the screen, “yesterday, they used me as bait to lure Raven.”

Dad’s jaw tightens, and his gaze hardens. “Did they touch you?”

“What was your part in Raven’s kidnapping?” I repeat.

“Did. They. Harm you? In any way?”

“What was your part in it?”

“None.”

“Lies.”

“None, Mila. None,” he repeats calmly. "I do not care for Mr. Levi.”

I don’t know how to cut through his shield. Never knew. Escaping him right before the Change was my most successful maneuver.

Suddenly, anger rises in me. Tears well up in my eyes at the thought that he had something to do with Raven’s kidnapping.

“So, you are somehow involved,” I state bluntly.

“No. I am not. I am not lying to you, Mila.”

"If he is alive… If there is a chance that… You'd better start caring, Dad. If you ever want your heirs.”

And there it is, my trump card—his expression shifts, that little change I hardly ever see in him, shock. Dad is taken aback.

In a second, he is back to his cool self. His lips curl a tiny bit in a smirk. “So, not a secret boy toy after all.”

I roll my eyes.

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