Page 113 of Lethal Legacy

Instead, all three of them have just had their already fragile world shaken to the core. A teenage boy had to make a man’s call that undoubtedly terrified him. After having been betrayed by every adult they should have been able to rely on to make them safe, my godchildren are now facing a heartbreaking confirmation of their experience thus far—that the world is a dangerous place, one devoid of love or safety of any kind.

Well, fuck that.

I pull the Maybach through the villa gates, nodding curtly at the guards.

I might have been slow to face my own culpability. But nobody can ever accuse me of failing to fix a problem when I find it.

Even if the problem is me.

Isee Mickey first.

He’s standing by the glass doors leading to the terrace, where he has clearly been waiting for me. Despite his pale face and rigid stance, his eyes behind the glasses are sharp and focused, oddly mature for a fourteen-year-old.

“Lucia said the man on the terrace is her father,” he says quietly as I approach. “But he’s bratva, Uncle Roman. I recognize his tattoos. I don’t think my sisters should be around him.”

His casual use of the termbratvagives me a severe jolt.

My chest tightens with an odd mixture of both guilt and, unexpectedly, pride.

When did nervous little Mickey become this grave-faced young man?I wonder how I missed that transition. I vow not to miss anything more.

“You did the right thing by calling me.” I grip his shoulder. Holding his eyes, I smile, hoping that he reads in my face the reassurance I mean to convey. “I’m really proud of you, Mickey, for making that call. Your first instinct was to protect your sisters, and that says a lot about the person you are. The fault here is mine, for not explaining the situation properly.”

His startled expression twists the knife of guilt in my side.

Have I really seemed so arrogant that they believe me to be incapable of admitting my mistakes?

Going by Mickey’s face, the answer is a resoundingyes.

“Come on.” I turn him toward the terrace. “It will be easier to explain the situation to all of you at once.”

I’m aware of Lucia watching me as I come onto the terrace. She’s standing beside a long, lean figure in a wheelchair, who is just removing Masha gently from his lap. But I’m less concerned by either Lucia or the man in the chair than I am with the two small faces now watching me cautiously. Ofelia tugs Masha close, her arms crossed protectively over the little girl’s chest. Her blue eyes are as hard and closed as I’ve ever seen them, and by the way her back is turned to Lucia, significant damage has already been done. Masha, on the other hand, seems as unconcerned as ever. She’s waving some kind of tiny reptile in her hand.

“Potato,” she says, holding a gecko up for my inspection.

“I’m happy to meet you, Mr. Potato.” I squat down in front of her and gently remove the quivering creature from her hand. “Shall we put him in the garden for now, so he can play with his friends?”

Masha pouts. “I wanna play wiv him.”

“I think he might be a little frightened,myshka.There’s a lot of big people here.” I place the poor creature into the terrace garden, where Mr. Potato makes an immediate and hasty getaway. “We can look for him later. Okay?”

“Okay.” Masha nods, her wide blue eyes watching me with frank interest.

Taking her hand, I stand up and face Ofelia.“Privet, umnyashka.”Hello, clever girl.

Ofelia’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t say anything.

“It’s okay,” I say quietly. “Everything’s fine.” Seeing her tension, I don’t try to touch her.

“Mickey.” I put out my arm, drawing him forward. “I’d like to talk to all three of you together, if that’s okay?”

The look exchanged between Mickey and Ofelia stirs up the uncomfortable sensation of guilt once again. It isn’t the first time I’ve watched this silent communication, by any means. I’ve just chosen to ignore it before now. I told myself it was the smartest thing for everyone. I’m hardly equipped to manage emotional teenagers.

But I wasn’t ready to find myself homeless at ten, either. Orpakhanafter Mikhail’s death.

A man doesn’t choose the challenges the world gives him. He just rises to meet them.

And equipped for it or not, this challenge is one I should have faced head-on long before now.

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