Page 79 of One of Them

Expecting comments like that, I softly laughed, numb to whatever he was trying to provoke. “Good for you.” Men, and their egos.

“You almost married one, too,” I added, pursing my lips. “Almost.” Ilya’s face twisted into a murderous expression when our gazes locked across the table. He didn’t even realize he was to blame for all of this.

“What are you doing, Taya?”

I stood my ground, steady in my response. “I’m putting a stop to what you should have prevented from the beginning,” I sneered. “This little secret of mine would have never seen the light if you trusted me more.”

I didn’t flinch, leaving all my thoughts out there. “You forced me to use it to my advantage and protect those who needed protecting. To keep my freedom. I refuse to let you two rule when neither of you is worthy.”

“Or maybe you were planning this all along,” Malek accused, his voice dripping with suspicion.

I laughed, dry and cold. “That is precisely why you and I would never work out.” Among other reasons.

“I don’t want to be in charge,” I admitted. “I’m happy to let others take the place. I’m good at what I do, thanks to you, sure. But mostly thanks to the blood that runs through me and hard work.”

Finally, taking pride in who I was and where I came from, as my mother reminded me in her last words, I spoke, “I am the daughter of a power couple. Royalty among our kind. Now everyone knows, and it’ll cost me.” I chuckled darkly. “Hell, it already cost me my entire childhood. I never met my father, but I’m told he was a man of honor. He valued fairness. Something you’ve lost the meaning of.” I locked eyes with them. “I know for a fact he wouldn’t climb to the top on the backs of others. You won’t use me or anyone else to grab more for yourselves.”

“Who’s better?” Ilya asked quickly.

I let the pause linger, letting the tension build before I calmly announced the news, fully confident in my decision. “The Galkins.”

Ilya shot up from his seat while the Galkins exchanged whispers.

“You’re joking,” Ilya protested.

I shook my head. “It’s theirs if they want it.”

“You just put a giant target on your back,” Ilya sneered, pointing an accusatory finger.

He had no idea.

“I just repainted the old one,” I sneered right back, leaning over the table. “The same one I’ve had since the moment I was born.” The very same one that brought my mother to her early grave.

Ilya eyed the document abandoned on the table, briefly reading the text.

“What do you think will happen when the Italians start asking for more? Demanding more?”

“The Galkins will deal with it accordingly. And I will gladly assist,” I settled his doubts. “But unless someone gives me a real reason to act, believing their word is assurance enough.”

I saw the fight in him, the anger, but there was something else. As if he bit his tongue and organized his thoughts, which is exactly what I expected Ilya to do. So I moved on to the biggest problem I had uncovered of them all.

“Malek, you let your obsession take hold of you.” My gaze sharpened, unflinching. “You better make every breath count, because the second I hear you’re growing in numbers, I’ll hunt you down. No deals, no negotiations.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Malek growled, his voice rising.

“I don’t want you to be,” I answered coolly. “Fear isn’t necessary when you’re confident in your own strength. And trust me, I am.”

“So tough,” he sneered. “Even mummy and daddy couldn’t protect you.”

I leaned forward, my smile barely there, but loaded with meaning.

“Long live the new generation,” I whispered, the words shaping our future, this organization, and perhaps even the world.

I couldn’t hide all the bad I did with the good, but this decision would be the mark I leave for the future.

The blue, rundown backpack my mother handed me when I was thirteen finally proved useful. Though it had terrified me at first, the bag harbored the answers I’d long sought:

Initials on the front that were never mine. A birth certificate, bank account, and an apartment, prepaid in full. And a handwritten letter explaining it all.

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