Page 22 of Scarred (Russian Sinners 2)

“Well, that’s just creepy,” I muttered under my breath.

“Didn’t you grow up with a nanny at your side?” His question surprised me but I guess it made sense. Most of the children in our social circles grew up with nannies.

“Actually no,” I confessed. “My mom and Anastasia’s mom were best friends so they were always together. Since she didn’t have a nanny, neither did I.”

“Was your mom a stay-at-home mom?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” I answered. Today I thought of my childhood memories more than I had in years. I wished Mom left my dad when we were little, before he did so much damage to us all. “Although, I think it would have been better if she wasn’t a stay-at-home mom. If she would have worked and had her own career, it would have allowed her independence to leave my dad. He married her for money and her social status, I think. My grandfather, my mom’s dad... he hated Dad’s guts.” And I didn’t blame him at all. He saw right through him. “He took Mom out of his will because of Dad. When he passed away, he left some money to me and my brother but we were both underage.” I could still remember that feeling of hope that bloomed inside me thinking we’d finally be free of Dad. Oliver had the same plan and Dad squashed it. It was the reason for more arguments and why Oliver couldn’t wait to join the military. “My dad has a way of twisting the legal system to his own benefit. So he obtained control of the trust funds and blew through it all before we became legal adults… millions of dollars spent on gambling and women,” I laughed bitterly. “But he found another way to get money through Malcome.”

Or more accurately through me… by selling me to Malcome but I kept those words to myself.

However, no sooner that thought left me, Nikolai added, “No, Olivia. You were another source for your father to use to get his hands on more money. He used your mother, you, and your brother.”

He was right, there was no question about that. But it still fucking hurt.

“Anyhow, my brother and I spent more time at Anastasia’s house than our own. When her mother died, my mom was wrapped up in her own stuff. So we were again with Anastasia all the time. When she moved to the East Coast, my parents allowed me and my brother to follow since her grandfather was willing to have us there too. All in all, it turned out okay.”

It was almost like shared custody between Anastasia’s family and my own. Except, my family barely deigned to see us.

“That must have been hard,” Nikolai commented. “Seeing her family’s support, being part of it, but it’s not the same as with your own.”

I stared at him. That was exactly how it was. I loved her and her family but I was also jealous that my own family wasn’t like that. They never, ever excluded Oliver and I, but it wasn’t the same. My brother and I knew we should have had that same family feeling around our own parents. Instead, we had to seek it out with Anastasia’s.

“Sometimes it was, but we were thankful to have them,” I told him, ashamed he read me so easily. “They considered us part of the family and it was more than other children in our situation had.”

“No need to defend,” Nikolai stated. “My parents died when I was two, leaving my older sister and me behind. My aunt and uncle could only take one of us since they had their own children to feed too. They took my sister. Although I was glad they took her instead of me, sometimes I envied it.”

Yes, I understood that too well but I said nothing else. Maybe there was a reason this man resonated with me?

Chapter Six

Nikolai

It didn’t matter that Olivia grew up in an upscale family surrounded by wealth and social status. She felt abandoned just as I did when my aunt and uncle couldn’t take me into their home. Although I meant what I said. I was glad it was me, rather than my sister that ended up in that orphanage.

Maybe that was the reason for this magnetic pull between us. We both felt abandoned by our family when we were children. Olivia and her twin brother were close, but at that age, you needed parents, caretakers that showed you how much they love you and support you. And that they’d stand by you no matter what. Anastasia had that with her family. Even I had that with Dimitry and Sergei but all three of us were children forced to grow up too soon.

There was definitely a strong connection to Olivia that pulled me to her. She felt it too, although she was keeping her distance. She was afraid to get close to any man, eager to keep herself at arm's length. Not that I could blame her.

Before we left the States, I sent a quick text message to Dimitry letting him know I was “kidnapping” Olivia and bringing her back to Russia till we could bring down Malcome. I meant what I told her, she was under my protection and anyone that even looked at her wrong would endure my wrath.

And I fully intend to bring Malcome down. He would pay for what he did to my sister and to Olivia. Her bruise was slowly fading but it was still vibrant against her pale skin. When I was finished with him, he would never touch or hurt another human being again. I couldn’t wait to make him pay, see his pain. I would not just shoot him dead, that was too easy. I wanted to see him tortured. My hands tightened around the wheel in rage building within me.

“Are you okay?” Olivia’s soft voice instantly calmed me and I loosened my grip.

She still wore her black Chanel dress, looking like a million bucks. During our flight, I sent a request to Nadia, the woman that ran my house in St. Petersburg, to procure an all-new wardrobe for Olivia, anything and everything a woman would need during her stay. If she didn’t like something, she could get more stuff as she settled.

“Yes, thank you for asking,” I answered her. I loved hearing her soft voice. She clammed up once she realized I understood the envy over family but it was nothing to feel ashamed of. It was just human nature.

“Did you study medicine like Anastasia?” I knew she didn’t. I knew she was into art but I wanted her to continue talking.

“No. Anastasia is really smart,” she mumbled and I thought she was done talking. “I studied art. I prefer to draw and paint.”

I saw some paintings she had done and they were very good. “Will you show me some of your paintings?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Sure.”

“What attracted you to art?” I was determined to have her talk, share some of herself.

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