Page 148 of Lethal Legacy

Roman turns around, his eyes narrowing when he sees my face. “Why are you crying?” he says accusingly.

I almost choke on my coffee, but I don’t yet trust myself to speak. And I don’t want to make the situation any worse.

“You need to start explaining yourself to me, Lu— ” He cuts off abruptly halfway through saying my name and turns swiftly away.

Oh, fuck.

I’m frozen in place on his sofa, the burning-hot cup in my hands forgotten.

He knows.

I’m as sure of it as I’ve ever been of anything.

He knows who I am.

It’s not like I didn’t figure this would happen eventually. Roman isn’t the kind of man to let a secret like that lie. And he’s got all the resources he needs to run down every lead until he gets answers.

Suddenly it all makes sense. His abrupt withdrawal, the way he hasn’t been able to so much as meet my eyes for almost two weeks. The way he’s managed my time so I barely spend any of it alone with the children.

He doesn’t trust me.

The tears start again, silent and thick, running unheeded down my cheeks. Whatever happened earlier tonight with Abby was just a small breach in the dam behind which my emotions are kept. But now I can feel the entire wall crumbling, the long years of terror and silence threatening to pour out of me in a torrent I’m only barely holding back.

“How long have you known?” My voice cracks. It’s painful to speak.

Roman swings around, frowning.

“You found out who I am.” I gulp a scalding mouthful of coffee in an attempt to gain control of myself. “I couldn’t work out what I’d done. I thought you’d... grown tired of me.” I shake my head tiredly. “But it was that all along, wasn’t it? You know who I am, and now you realize that I was right. You know it isn’t safe to have me around your children. I told you, Roman.” I put the coffee cup down with a slightly shaking hand. “I tried to warn you. It could have been Masha they took that day at the parade. It could have been any of the kids. You’re just starting to realize it now, aren’t you?”

As I speak, the tears dry up. There’s no point shedding them anymore. Tears are a luxury I can’t afford. I know Roman won’t throw me to the Orlovs, or at least, I think I know that. But I know he won’t let me stay, either.

At least I know why now, I think dully. Oddly, that helps.

Roman’s face is closed and hard. I stand up shakily. “I’m going to go downstairs and pack,” I say quietly. “I’ll be gone before morning. Papa too.”

I make it halfway across the room when his voice stops me. “Say it.”

I turn, confused. “Say what?”

“Your name. Fucking say it. Out loud.”

I shake my head, the tears that just dried up threatening again. “You know I can’t do that, Roman. I promised—”

“What about the fucking promises you made to me?” He hurls the words at me furiously. “To the kids? What about those promises—or don’t they matter to you?”

I stare at him in astonishment. “Of course they matter!”

“Then why?” He crosses the room and stares at me with hard eyes. “Why didn’t you just tell me? Why, even now, won’t you trust me enough just to say the words aloud?”

“What’s the point?” I say dully. “You know what my name is. You know who I am. Why do you need to humiliate me by making me break my word as well? At least leave me with that.” The tears start to spill again. “You can tell me to leave. I understand that, Roman. But please don’t make me betray the people I love. My word... that’s all I have now. The only thing I have left that’s actually mine.”

A faint crease appears between his eyes. “That’s it?” He’s staring at me with an expression I can’t read. “That’s the only reason you have for not telling me?”

“What other reason would I possibly have?” I’m tired and confused, and I don’t understand why he’s pushing this.

“Fine,” he says stiffly. “Then I’ll say it. Your name is Darya Petrovsky.”

It’s unsettling, hearing my name spoken aloud after so long. First by Ryder, now by Roman. The only other person who’s used it for six years is my father, and even then, rarely. It’s like having part of myself called up from the grave. I’ve buried Darya Petrovsky so completely that being called by her name feels dangerous, makes the world around me feel shaky and uncertain.

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