Page 159 of Sweet Obsession
I gasped, my breath catching. “He killed Stepan?” The words barely left my mouth before the realization hit me with full force. Yuri had been the one to pull the trigger.
I had always known it was my father who had sold Stepan out—that the Vargas Cartel, with whom he had gone to Colombia for business, had betrayed him. But hearing it now, knowing Yuri had been the one to end his life, shattered me in a way I hadn’t prepared for. The weight of it was suffocating. How could I have ever known? How could I have missed it all this time?
“Yuri... he told me he killed Mother, too,” Gabriella whispered, her voice trembling. “He instilled so much fear inme. I was terrified that if I ever spoke out, if anyone ever knew what he was doing to me, I’d be the next one to die.”
I felt a chill sweep through me as Gabriella’s words echoed in my mind. Yuri killed Mother. The gravity of it sank into my chest, a weight I wasn’t sure I could carry.
He was the one who had murdered Stepan, the one whose death had broken Misha beyond recognition.
A memory I hadn’t fully understood slammed into my consciousness, a rush of fragmented images from my nightmares. My mother, Stepan, that night...
I had always seen the fragments—vivid flashes, like a broken reel of film. That night, I had heard my mother’s voice, frantic as she tried to shield Stepan. I hadn’t known why, but she’d been protecting him, hiding him, maybe from someone.
The gunshot came next, followed by a sickening thud. Stepan’s blood had soaked into the carpet, pooling around him, but my mind had always blocked the face of the shooter. My head had snapped around as I screamed in terror, and that’s when I was hit—my own skull cracking under the force.
When I’d come to hours later, I woke in a haze, my mother’s blood staining the floor around me. Stepan was gone, his body left like an offering to whoever had taken him.
I had thought I had caused her death, that my scream or the struggle had brought the bullet down upon her, that somehow, I was the one who had doomed her. But the truth had been far worse. Yuri had been the one to pull the trigger.
Tears blurred my vision as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Yuri had been the one to kill Stepan—and likely my mother, too. He had terrorized Gabriella, destroyed my family, and manipulated us all.
Rage, like a firestorm, began to build within me. He had gotten away with it all—but not anymore. Yuri’s grave deserved to be burned, his memory turned to ash.
And the Vargas Cartel? They were his family, his blood. If they were to stand by him, then they, too, would burn. They would all pay for what he had done to us.
I turned toward Gabriella, my face burning with anger and sorrow. She didn’t deserve this life, none of us did. But I would make sure Yuri’s sins were repaid—and if I had to tear through every last piece of his world to do it, I would.
Chapter 26
MISHA
The mansion was too quiet when I got home. The kind of silence that didn’t feel like peace but absence. A hollowed-out kind of stillness that clung to the walls.
I ran a hand through my hair, jaw tight, head pounding from back-to-back meetings. The Irkutsk wanted more ports. The Amur alliance wanted weapons. And I—as the newly crowned Pakhan, had barely taken a sip of water all day, let alone eaten. The weight of it all sat on my shoulders like iron chains.
And for what?
Power? Territory? Control?
No. It had stolen from me. From us.
The title gave Luna and me security, yes, but at a price I never agreed to pay. It took something quieter, more vital. The stolen glances. The easy silences. Her laughter in my chest. It buried the tenderness we’d bled for.
I couldn’t even remember the last time she smiled just for me. Not out of habit. Not for show. But the kind of smile that said I was still hers.
She called this afternoon. Told me to come home for dinner.
I’d known, the second I heard her voice—something was off.
I asked what was wrong.
She paused, then said softly,“I just want to talk.”
I told her I’d be there.
I meant it.
But the meeting with Irkutsk’s advisors ran long. Then the Amur arms broker dropped a last-minute demand I couldn’t ignore. Calls. Negotiations. A crisis in Chita I had to smooth over. One thing after another until the hours bled into night.
