Page 7 of Embracing the Dark Side

“And you believed him.” Adrik scoffed, pulling his hands out of hers. “I was shot, in case you forgot.” Adrik stepped away from his mother. There was no doubt that he loved her, but sometimes he wished she were different. He wished she was real. She had been fake and forced for too long; she’s now a broken doll, repeating the lines ingrained into her as if someone had pulled her string. But this was the only mother he had known. By the time he was born, she had already snapped, according to his sisters.

“You don’t have to forgive your father but talk to him. Understand him.”

“I do understand him,” Adrik bit. “I was breaking the chain he had around my neck, and to get me to heel, he tightened the leash. But I refuse to be his dog any longer.”

The words made his mother sad, and he hated it. “If for no other reason, forgive for me.”

“I already have! Two weeks ago, when he beat Alexei, I forgave him. When he shoved Katia on her knees and threatened to kill her, I forgave. Papa has been the only one in my life that gets chance after fucking chance. If he were anyone else, he’d be six feet under by now. Papa crossed a line, Mama. He threatened you. He threatened Helina and J—” Adrik clenched his teeth to stop what he really wanted to say. How many times had Yakov threatened Jolie? “He’s out of chances.”

Tatianna sat on the bed and watched him. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, he never could, her face blank. He continued to fret about his jacket, picking at lint thatwasn’t there. “You turn away your father, your brother, and your wife. Now what, son? I was hoping you were moving forward, not backward. I want to see you happy.”

Adrik unbuttoned his jacket and sat beside her, reaching for his shoe before slipping it on. “There is no contentment for our lifestyle, Mama. Every day is dangerous. What I want more than happiness is a good future for my daughter.”

“Do you want out of the Mafia?”

Adrik didn’t even flinch, because it was a stupid thing to say. “There is no getting out. You should know that.”

“If I could find a way, would you take it? You, Helina, the tutor-you could disappear.”

Adrik paused while tying his shoe. The words repeated, and he rolled them around in his head, trying to grasp them. “What are you talking about?” Did she know about Jolie?

“Would you take it?”

The words were so foreign that it was no different from asking him if he’d get on a spacecraft to the moon. It felt more like a test, like his answer was going to be fed back to his father. “No.” Adrik snatched up his other shoe. There was no point in fantasy. As long as his father was alive, Yakov would give him no peace. He’d track him to the ends of the earth for no other reason than to remind Adrik that there was no place he could hide.

“Mafia is so far in your veins.” She slapped his shoulder, her cheeriness returning. “You were made for this life. So, these injustices must be fixed.”

When he finished tying his shoe, both feet hit the ground, and he placed his elbows on his knees. His fingers twirled the family crest on his pinkie, staring blindly. Most of the day was spent trying to figure out his nextsteps. First, he had dealt with Zinof’s corpse, which was now in pieces, packed in a frozen bait box on a fisherman’s charter, heading out to the middle of Tampa Bay as chum for sharks. The room had been pressure washed and bleached clean. His clothes had been burned in the fireplace, cleaned out, and its ashes spread into the mulch in the backyard. Polaroid pictures had been taken and put in an envelope in a safe box at the bank. A fallback in case Katia’s father, Boris, needed proof that his son was indeed dead.

What would happen after Boris finds out that Zinof was killed had too many scenarios, and Adrik hadn’t taken the time yet to go through them. He had drowned himself in Jolie, basking in her attention, falling deeper for a goddess. It was like the devil himself snagged an angel and dragged her to hell. Soaking in her light was addictive and made him believe in God.

Tatianna checked over her painted nails. “Katia will be at your side tonight?”

“Yes,” Adrik answered, his mood changing just from the sound of her name. “The guards have specific orders to keep her at the party at all times. Then, after everyone has gone home, I will talk to Boris.”

“And perhaps return his missing son and make peace?”

Adrik chuckled at such a request. His parents didn’t know yet that Zinof was already dead and gone. “No. I will kill them.”

Tatianna giggled at such a statement. “You cannot kill them in our home.”

“Why not?”

“Do not be silly, Adrik. Boris will be our guest and is one of your father’s closest friends.”

He knew she was going to say that. But what other option did he have? Letting Boris go to wage a war on his kingdom wasn’t exactly ideal. It would cost him millions of dollars and dozens, if not hundreds or thousands, of lives. This was a better alternative, despite not being a popular choice.

Tatianna checked her bosom, pressing her hands around them to adjust their shape. “That is Helina’s grandfather.”

“What else will you have me do?”

“Talk to your father—”

“No!” Adrik snapped, and her movements stalled as she looked at him for once. “I don’t need Papa. He has destroyed any chance of reconciliation. Now all I want is him out of my home and life.”

Tatianna said nothing. She brushed out her dress and puffed her hair before going to the mirror to stand before it. She twirled as if their conversation about death and destruction was the same talk you have over tea and strudels. Adrik rubbed his eyes. He didn’t know why he was talking to her. She rarely had any advice, and that advice usually involved him talking to someone else.

“I forbid you from killing anyone tonight,” she told him.

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