Page 64 of Vitaly

I just shrug.

“You know…” Mila fiddles with the collar of her blouse. “Even though you say your mother never would’ve left me at the mansion, I’m glad she did… I know she died, but I’m glad she got a little bit of time away.”

“Yes, I’m sure she had a wonderful time trying to make it on the street as a mourning widow with no money, no family, and no job history.” Hearing my own sharp tone sobers the sudden burst of anger. I take a breath, running my hand through my hair. “Sorry.”

Mila shakes her head. “Don’t be.”

Silence snakes its way into the car for several seconds while Mila stares at the water. I try to relax in my seat. She looks so beautiful right now, and I think maybe she always did. I’ve just been blind.

“I don’t know if you want to hear this…” Mila swallows and wipes her hands on her thighs.

“What is it?”

Mila seems to prepare herself, shifting in her seat. “Your mother didn’t suffer financially… One day, when I was cleaningNikita’s room, I saw an envelope with her name on it that was full of cash.”

My neck is stiff as I look away, casting my eyes out at the lake. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“No, it doesn’t, I agree. And honestly, it can be hard to imagine Nikita being capable of caring for another human being.”

I sigh. “But?”

“But I was around when she died. Her funeral was a day after Vova’s, and everyone was required to attend, even though it’s rumored that she poisoned the wine that killed them both. A rumor, which by the way, if Nikita hears, you can bet whoever speaks of it is dead.”

“How sweet.”

“I know how to read Nikita’s moods,” Mila goes on. “At his father’s funeral, he seemed almost satisfied. I’d never felt so safe. But at your mother’s?” She shakes her head. “He was murderous for days.”

“I’m sure she’d be thrilled to know she brings out the best in him.”

“There’s a box on the top shelf of his closet with some of her things, including her framed photo. Want to know what he keeps of your grandfather’s? Not a damn thing.” Mila huffs, exasperated. “One time, someone picked a lily from her old garden for a girl when they were both smashed, and Nikita slit both of their throats for it. He’s a vicious sadist, I won’t bother arguing against that, but for the people Nikita loves, he will burn the world to the ground. All I’m trying to say is she was one of those people. And I’m only saying it so you aren’t picturing her suffering on the street.”

My chest is heavy as I stare out at the water. It weighs me down, pulling me forward and making me slouch.

“He kept the flowers?” I ask, my tongue feeling as heavy as my chest.

“Yes.”

I blink but say nothing. When Mila puts her hand on mine, I turn toward her.

“But … her son or not, youaren’tone of the people he loves. If you stay, he’ll hurt you.”

“Why do you sound worried for me?” I ask, a slight, lighthearted tilt to my lips. She returns my smile, but it’s just as low-energy.

I turn toward the lake again and try to relax, try to push the emotion away. I’m glad my mother didn’t suffer all the pain she could have. All the pain I’dpictured. I wish I’d been the one to prevent it.

But I wasn’t. There’s nothing I can do about that now.

Wiping my hand over my face, I get the sudden urge to run. It happens frequently, like my mind and body remember I’m no longer caged and wish to test my freedom. It would be a little strange to hop out and take off with Mila here.

Lowering my hand, the water catches my attention, and I get an idea.

“Do you want to go swimming?”

Mila’s brows shoot up. “Swimming?”

I nod.

“It’swinter.”

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