Page 90 of Vitaly

My steps slow to a stop as I roam my gaze over the archway, the only opening into the expansive area filled with trees, bushes, flowers, and most prominent of all… purple lilies. The same kind my mother spent hours tending to.

I step beneath the arch, rotating my head to take in the flower-woven ivy wrapping around the extended archway to create a canopy above me.

I don’t remember my anger until Nikita’s voice comes from my right, hidden by a tree.

“Incredible, isn’t it?”

I turn that way, searching for him, and squint in confusion when he stands from a crouched position, holding a pair of gardening shears and wearing dirtied gloves. He tosses the shears to the soil before taking the gloves off to join them.

“My mother was a whore,” he says, doing nothing to hide his disdain. “But yours…” He looks around and sighs. “Yours was a remarkable woman.”

I tell my eyes to stay on Nikita, but they trail at his words, taking in the flowers, the magnificence of the garden. “She did this?”

My throat feels thicker, but I suppress the urge to clear it. I don’t know why.

She’s already dead. He can’t use her against me.

“No.”

My gaze returns to Nikita.

“It’s a … memorial.” He twirls his finger like he wasn’t sure what to call it then points to the archway entrance. “I spread her ashes there.”

I narrow my eyes. “Her grave…”

“Empty.” He shrugs. “Some people like to be buried. Some like to be cremated. She didn’t mention which… The casket’s full of jewelry, gold, a few photos. You’re in one, by the way, in case you thought I was aheartlessuncle.” He gives me a wicked smile, the first sign of evil he’s shown me during this conversation.

I don’t know what to say in return. My mind tries to search for meaning in what he’s doing, but it’s too busy focusing on my mother. Her ashes. Her empty grave.

I wasn’t here for any of it.

“You know, she’s the reason I didn’t kill you the second I laid eyes on you with my lieutenants.” He pauses a moment, looking me over before sighing. “I can be honest about that, right? You’re a man now. You can take a little harsh truth from your uncle?”

My shoulders raise with a huff. “Go ahead.”

He nods, his lips barely lifting on one side before he looks back at the flowers. “To be completely truthful, I didn’t evenknowshe was the reason until recently. I thought I didn’t wantto look weak, and I mean…” He shows his palms and shifts them like he’s balancing something. “It would’ve looked like I was afraid of you. Butthe hellI go through just being around you.” He cringes.

“Do you know what’s horribly ironic, Nikita?”

He opens his eyes fully and gives me a blank, bored stare.

“You’re twice as bad as your father, who my mother spent every day that she breathed on American soil hating because he tortured her and everyone around him. And you have the fucking nerve to talk like you meant something to her.”

Nikita smiles, his sinister lips spreading slowly. “Do you want to hear a secret?”

He steps up closer to me when I don’t answer. “I knew she was going to kill my father. I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know she was going to kill herself in the process, but she told me she was going to kill him. She begged me to help you once he was gone, and I had the authority, but I refused. I told her I’d never help the man who killed my brother. That if it’d been up to me, you wouldn’t have been in prison, you’d have been dead. Do you know why I told her that, Vitaly?”

He steps up even closer and waits, even though I have no intention of answering. Finally, he continues.

“Because I did not lie to Nina.Ever. She taught me things when my father only had time for Vlad. Because of her, I know how to read and write Russian. Cook, garden.” He gestures around. “She taught me everything she couldn’t teach you because despite your blood, I was the son she wished she had. Would you like further proof?” He smiles. “When I told her I’d never help you, she said, ‘oh-kay.’ That’s it, Vitaly. She could’ve killed me that night along with my father, knowing it was best to protect you, but shedidn’t. I meant more to her than you ever did, andthatis what is horribly ironic.”

His chest shakes with his laugh. “You’re here trying to honor your parents, and you think you’re going to do it by taking my place. But your father thought you were an entitled, arrogant brat, and your mother chose my life over her own kin’s. Nowwhat is ityou think they wanted? Or can you admit to yourself that you’re here for one person, and that person is you?”

His gaze wanders behind me while I try to process what he’s saying. He’s getting into my head, making more sense than I want to admit, but when he speaks next, all my thoughts cease.

“Where’s Mila, by the way? Isn’t she supposed to be the one you’rereallyhere for?”

My eyes widen, but I don’t see him as my vision blurs with a red sheen. I lunge, my hands wrapping around his throat. I spear him to the hard earth as I squeeze like I’ve been daydreaming about.

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