Page 76 of Rafi

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TAYANA

The truth, like a shadow in the corner of the room, is closing in.

I shift my gaze between the two men—Igor, his cold blue eyes glinting with triumph, and my father, Anton, whose hard-edged jaw looks as though it might crack under the weight of whatever storm is brewing between them.

“Someone better start explaining,” I say, my voice sharp, slicing through the tension.

Neither of them answers. Their eyes are locked on each other like combatants preparing for the final blow, a silent war raging between them. Anton’s soldiers, their rifles trained on Igor, seem to fade into the background as the weight of whatever is about to be said presses down on the cabin like a stone.

Igor is the first to break the silence. He tilts his head slightly, a cruel smile tugging at his lips. “So, you set this whole thing up,” he says, his tone casual, but there’s venom beneath it.

Anton doesn’t flinch. “Don’t worry. You’ll get your money back,” he replies evenly.

Igor lets out a low, humorless laugh. “That’s not what I’m worried about.”

My stomach churns. Their words are circling something, something big and ugly, and I don’t know if I’m ready to face it. But I’m sick of being left in the dark.

“Then whatareyou worried about?” I demand, stepping forward. My voice rises, the frustration bubbling over. “Enough of this! What the hell is going on?”

Igor’s head snaps toward me, and for a moment, his expression softens. But then he turns back to Anton, his fury boiling to the surface. “She has to come back to Russia,” Igor says, his voice low and firm, like it’s not up for debate. “Where we can protect her.”

“Protect me from what?” I snap, my patience threadbare.

Anton steps forward, putting himself between me and Igor. His presence is commanding, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—fear? Guilt? “She doesn’t have to do anything, Igor,” he says, his tone steady but laced with steel.

“She must come home,” Igor insists, his voice rising.

“This is crazy!” I throw my hands up, pacing the narrow aisle of the plane like a caged animal. My chest tightens, my heart pounding against my ribs. “You’re both insane!”

I stop pacing as Igor reaches for my arm. His touch is light, almost hesitant, but I flinch away instinctively. The reaction is instant, visceral. His face twists with anger, and he whirls on my father, the fury pouring out of him like a dam breaking.

“See what you’ve done!” Igor screams, his voice cracking with emotion. “You made her hate her own father!”

The air is sucked out of the room.

I stare at Igor, my mind reeling. The words don’t compute, like hearing a foreign language for the first time. “What...?”

Neither of them speaks. I look between them, my breathing shallow, panic clawing at the edges of my mind. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “Someonetell mewhat’s going on!”

Anton closes his eyes briefly, as if bracing himself for a blow. When he opens them, there’s a deep, unbearable sadness in his gaze. “Tayana, it’s not?—”

“Tell her!” Igor roars, cutting him off. He steps closer, his face contorted with rage and something deeper—something I can’t name. “You owe her the truth!”

Anton’s jaw tightens. His hands clench into fists at his sides, the veins in his neck straining. “Not like this,” he says through gritted teeth.

Igor doesn’t back down. “There’s no other way. She deserves to know.”

“Know what?” I yell, my voice echoing in the confined space. My throat feels raw, my chest heaving. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Igor turns to me, his expression softening. For the first time, I see something in him I didn’t think he was capable of—vulnerability. “Tayana,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost gentle. “He’s not your father.”

The world tilts beneath me.

“What?” I whisper, barely able to get the word out.

Anton steps forward, his hands raised as if to steady me. “Tayana, listen to me?—”

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