Page 43 of Sweet Deception
“Come,” he said, leading me toward the dining area.
I had spent two years in this house in the past. Nothing had changed. My uncle still clung to the same antique furnishings. Heavy drapes, an ornate dining set, and a space that reeked of history. He liked his home to feel untouched by time, as if preserving the past gave him control over the present.
Once we sat, he eyed me curiously. “Gleb. What an unexpected visit.”
I hummed in response, glancing at the food laid out before me.
His gaze sharpened. “That Italian girl. She seems... unharmed. Strange, don’t you think?”
I met his stare, unimpressed. “And?”
He leaned back, studying me. “Just curious. I expected her to look... worse. Yet, when I visited? She didn’t look like a woman suffering at all.”
I shrugged, pulling a candy bar from my pocket and setting it on the table between us.
“I remember how much you loved these.”
His eyes flickered with something akin to hunger as he snatched it up. “How the hell did you get this? Western imports aren’t easy to come by these days.”
When I lived here, that candy had been his weakness. Even with doctors warning him to avoid sugar, he never listened. But government restrictions had made it nearly impossible to get goods from the West, which only made his cravings worse.
He unwrapped it eagerly, but before taking a bite, he hesitated, narrowing his eyes at me.
“You’re being uncharacteristically generous.” His grip tightened around the bar. “First, you pay me a sudden visit, and now you come bearing gifts. Should I be concerned?”
I leaned back, meeting his gaze evenly. “If I meant you harm, Uncle, you wouldn’t have seen me coming. Our family has thrived in unity for decades, thanks to Grandmother. If anyone wished you dead, it wouldn’t be me.”
His shoulders relaxed as trust settled back into his expression. He bit into the chocolate, savoring it.
“Gleb, you should see me as a father. Family isn’t just about direct lineage.” He exhaled slowly, taking a bite. “With your father gone, it falls to me to guide you. Whether you acknowledge it or not, I am your father now.”
I watched him eat, letting the moment stretch before I finally spoke.
“Uncle, why did you come to my house uninvited?”
His jaw twitched slightly. “Are you saying I can’t visit my own godson?”
“But you knew I wasn’t home.”
“I heard rumors you might be in Mexico, but I wasn’t certain.” He took another bite before glancing at me. “Do you have more of these?”
“No.” I pressed my palms against the table, the wood creaking under the force. ‘You walked into my house. You laid your hands on my wife.
His expression soured. The chocolate in his grip suddenly seemed less appetizing.
“You pushed her down the stairs, slapped her, kicked her, nearly tore her hair out,” I said, my voice calm but sharp as a blade.
His gaze snapped to mine. “I thought you didn’t care for her.” His lip curled in disgust. “Yet now you speak as if she holds any worth.”
“She’s my wife.”
His nostrils flared. “That bitch’s mother burned your mother to death. And you’re already catching feelings? Pathetic.” His voice dripped with contempt. “No wonder I didn’t see a single mark on her. Instead of breaking her, you’ve been protecting her.”
He scoffed. “That’s why you kept us from your wedding, isn’t it? Afraid we’d see the truth?” He shook his head slowly. “What would Grandmother say if she knew? That her heir, the leader of our Bratva, has grown weak?”
My fingers tapped once against the table, a slow, deliberate sound. My tone was deathly quiet.
“It was a gross mistake to enter my home and touch my wife. You don’t actually think I’d let that slide, do you?”
