Page 43 of The Payment

“Your mother is right, Tattie.”She blinked as her father leaned forward in his chair, watching the morning light catching the silver at his temples.That childhood nickname in his rich voice sent a warm flutter through her heart.“If there is one thing we learned over the years, it’s that marriage only survives with complete honesty and togetherness.No secrets, no distance.”

Tatiana wrapped her hands around her teacup, seeking its warmth.Marriage.Five years.Even though Jarek had made it clear that night at the club that he would never let her go, in her mind, she still clung to that timeline.But it was a deadline that suddenly felt both rigid and fragile.There was no denying that her feelings were changing, especially when Jarek held her at night and when his lips traced her skin with such tenderness.That resolution was becoming blurred like watercolors in the rain.Now, he took it one step further and had found and brought her parents back—a miracle she had stopped believing in decades ago.

“What ifDedushkafinds out you’re back?”The fear churned bitterly in her stomach.Her fingers tightened around the cup until her knuckles whitened.“His network spreads everywhere.No Polov would ever escape his notice.”

“We’re safe as can be, my darling.”Maxim moved to kneel beside her chair to cover her hand with his strong one until she gradually loosened her grip on the cup.“Maxim and Mila Lovett are simple immigrants from the Isle of Man.Your grandfather’s people search for Ivan and Sophia Polov—ghosts from thirty years ago.We have changed, Tattie.”He smiled wryly.“Grown old and wrinkly.”

He was right.The photographs she had kept hidden beneath her mattress as a child showed strangers now of a raven-haired beauty and a golden-haired man with bright eyes.Night after night, she had traced their faces with small fingers, whispering prayers for their return until Gregor found her crying one evening.

“They abandoned you,” he had snarled as he ripped the photos away with his grip cruelly bruising her small arm.“They chose their freedom over their own child.You’re a Polov.This weakness stops now.”

Young Tatiana had believed him then and allowed her heart to calcify against the pain.But sitting here now, feeling her mother’s warm hand in hers and watching her father’s eyes crinkle with love, she understood the truth.Gregor and Elizabeth had stolen her childhood and poisoned it with lies.They were the ones who had chosen power over love and control over family.

“Still,” she whispered as she leaned into Mila’s touch, walking with them to their room to finish packing.“I need more time.There are so many stories I haven’t heard, so many years to recover.”

The delicate balance of her two worlds weighed on Tatiana’s mind as she watched her parents prepare for their departure.Her mother folded clothes with practiced grace while her father checked the closets and the bathroom for stray items.

She stood at the window with her arms crossed tight against her chest.The city sprawled below in a maze of streets and scattered lives.Each intersection was a choice and each building a destination.Like her life now, it was a complex web of decisions and consequences.

“You’re very quiet, Tattie.”Her father’s voice pulled her from her thoughts.

“I don’t know how to do this.”The words spilled out before she could stop them.“Be a Polov and a Farrel.Be your daughter and Jarek’s wife.To live in both worlds and succeed on my own without drowning.”

Mila paused her packing.“You don’t have to choose, my darling.You’re not betraying anyone by embracing all parts of who you are.”

“Aren’t I?”Tatiana turned from the window.“Jarek leads one of the most powerful mafia groups in Boston.Dedushkawould kill him if he could.I still don’t know what’s coming, except that I never want to see either of my grandparents again.And you...”She swallowed hard.“You ran from that life, like I am from them.How can I justify staying in it with Jarek?”

“The circumstances are different,” Maxim said.“We ran because your grandfather gave us no choice.He would have killed us, and you, if we had taken you away, to maintain his control.Jarek...”He paused, choosing his words carefully.“Jarek gives you choices.I see it in the way he looks at you, in building a new corporate empire for you, and the way he has stepped back to give us this time together.”

“But the violence, the danger...”Tatiana’s voice trailed off.

“Is not as bad as what you grew up with,” Mila finished softly.“From what we’ve heard through the grapevine, he purely deals in white-collar crime.Not that I’m saying that’s acceptable, but I perceive there to be less violence and danger.More than that, the difference to your grandfather’s world is love,myshka.Always remember, real love doesn’t cage you.It gives you wings.”

Tatiana’s chest tightened.Five years.She had committed herself to only five years, but standing here, caught between past and present, she realized time wasn’t the answer.The real question was whether she could forge something new from the broken pieces of her history.A legacy that belonged purely to her.

“I want to know everything,” she said suddenly.“About our family, about where you’ve been all these years, and about who I was meant to be.Not forDedushka’ssake or even Jarek’s.For mine.”

Her mother crossed the room and took her hands.“Then that’s what we'll do.Start with truth.The rest will follow.”

Tatiana nodded as the first threads of a new pattern emerged from the ashes of the past.She couldn’t erase what had happened or predict her future, but she could weave them together into a stronger strand than either alone.Make it uniquely hers.

“We’re not leaving the country, Tattie.In fact, we’re staying right here in Boston, in a penthouse apartment Jarek owns and offered to us two blocks from here.We’ll be seeing you every day, I promise.And we’ll take it one story at a time.”

One story at a time.One truth at a time.One choice at a time.Perhaps that was how she could reconcile the incongruous.Not in great, dramatic gestures but in small, deliberate steps toward a new beginning.

Tatiana’s eyes narrowed as suspicion coiled through her.Despite his earlier kindness in finding her parents, Jarek always had ulterior motives.

“Did Jarek put you up to this?Moving out?Is that what happened?”

“Not at all.”Mila’s voice carried that maternal tone that both soothed and irritated at this critical moment.“Your father approached him.It doesn’t feel right that he’s become a stranger in his own home.”

“It’s his choice.He doesn’t have to stay away.”Tatiana lifted her chin, the stubborn gesture so reminiscent of her childhood self that Mila smiled.“As my husband, he should get to know you, too.”

Even as she said the words, she recognized their hollowness.Jarek had given them space and respected their need for privacy, yet here she was, twisting his consideration into a sinister act.

“There’ll be lots of time for that,” Maxim said firmly.“I, for one, am thankful for his consideration.Not many men would isolate themselves from their own homes and wives.Character...that’s what that man of yours has.”

The words struck uncomfortably close to truth.Tatiana remembered Jarek’s face when he had first introduced her parents to her.There had been no triumph, no smugness, just quiet satisfaction at her joy.She thought of how he had arranged everything without seeking credit.How he had stepped back, giving her space to rebuild these precious bonds.Her father was right, damn him, but admitting that meant acknowledging she had also misjudged other aspects of Jarek, and she wasn't ready for that particular revelation.

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