Page 122 of Koroleva

We were playing a game of poker and you could sense the tragedy brewing.

We had been confined for several days, not all of us, just those convalescing from what happened at the hotel. We had strict orders not to leave the house until we were medically cleared. A private doctor visited all of us, and those who needed surgery were taken to his clinic.

The rest of the staff remained patrolling the surroundings. We were on red alert. A major confrontation with the Chinese was brewing and a war between mafias like no other could break out at any moment.

I was the one who gathered the papers in my hands, closed the gap with firm steps, and slapped them against his chest.

"Congratulations."

"Is it mine?!" he exclaimed.

"No! You're off the hook! That’s why I congratulated you." He gave me a disgruntled grimace.

"What do you mean I'm off the hook?" I went to get a bottle of vodka from the liquor cabinet and drank straight from it.

"When one door closes, a bottle opens." I lifted the glass container and took another long sip. This time, it was Romeo who started looking through the papers. "Adriano is a Korolev, so I'll take care of him. You don't need to have any more contact with him." He looked at me incredulously.

"But what are you saying? I don't want to be free of my son."

"He’s not your son, he's my brother's, he's my nephew and therefore a Korolev," I confirmed, taking another drink. I needed a good dose of vodka to digest it.

"Just because his sperm got there first doesn’t make your brother his father. I’ve been living with the kid for six months and he considers me his dad. These results change nothing."

"Of course, they change everything. Adriano is ours and must be raised in the bosom of my family."

"I am his family, and so is my sister, and my father, and of course, now you! Don't talk nonsense! We're married! We'll raise him together! He's suffered enough already to be told that I'm not who he thought I was," he grumbled, stressed.

"He's a child, he'll get over it, just like everyone else when they're told that Santa Claus is their parents. We have to tell him that Yuri was his father."

"Wait, wait." He stopped me by grabbing the bottle. "Have you gone mad? You can't just drop that bomb on him. I didn’t mind the tests so you could feel better, but from there to say that we have to... that... For now, I don't see it necessary, let’s wait until he's older and can understand how his conception happened..."

"Do you want to wait until he's eighteen and let him live a lie? No! I'm sorry, I refuse. He needs to know that he is my

brother’s son and that I am his aunt."

My husband rubbed his face, desperate.

"But if just recently you didn't even want to see him!"

"Because I thought he was yours." As soon as I said it, I knew I had hurt him. "And, well, because I'm not much of a babysitter, but that's beside the point. My mother knows a lot about raising kids and she's his grandmother, he'll be better off in Saint Petersburg with her."

"No way!" he roared. "Adriano is not going anywhere with Jelena. I don't care if she's raised a regiment. Adri stays here, end of story." We both stared at each other defiantly. "And this," he waved the papers, "changes nothing, you'd better get used to the idea."

He threw the papers forcefully onto the counter and looked at me with spite.

"Are you done? Is the tantrum over? Do you want to act like an adult instead of a damn kid who's had his bike stolen?"

"A bike? Adriano is a person, a child emotionally fragile from all he's suffered. I accept that you're part of the villainesses without borders club, but for God's sake, don't make me believe that there isn't a heart beating under all that stone." I crossed my arms and didn't respond. Because precisely I didn't want it to beat. "I'm going out for a walk, I need to clear my head, and you would do well to think about everything you've said in the meantime."

"I'm not a child who needs to be punished in the thinking corner to know what's right or wrong."

"Your problem is that you're too used to doing what's wrong," he reproached me.

"Mmm," he sighed, "that feels good!"

"But I haven’t even scratched you yet!" It was true, I was on the edge.

"But I like it when you touch me and are with me, it soothes me more than anything."

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