Page 60 of Til Death Do Us Part (Kornilov Bratva Duet 2)

Fedor begins to pace again, and I notice my men are keeping their guns trained on him, moving them back and forth to match his pacing. Then, he shrugs.

“You know, I haven’t spent much time thinking about it, but when I do, I think it all might have started the night I killed our parents.”

My back stiffens. I feel like he just punched me straight in the chest. I’m so startled I can’t even manage to inhale. I just stare at him, gaping.

Fedor is enjoying my shock.

“Did you not know that?” he asks, knowing full well I didn’t. “I guess it slipped my mind. But yes, I killed them. I set the fire.”

I feel Molly’s hand resting on my shoulder. She is trying to comfort me, trying to keep me calm, and I lean back slightly into her chest, resting on the reality of her standing behind me.

“You’re lying.”

“Unfortunately, I’m not.” Fedor stops pacing and looks directly in my eyes. “I was just a kid, but I remember the firefighters saying it was an electrical fire. Some bad wiring in the guest room that tore through the wall behind our parents’ bed and took them in their sleep. But what the fire chief didn’t know is that I was the one who tinkered with the wiring.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t know what you were doing.”

“Maybe not,” Fedor shrugs. “But I knew enough to know it was my fault. Curiosity killed the cat. In this case, I had the curiosity, and our parents were the cats. Bad luck for them.”

I know he is only telling me this now because his plan failed. Because he is angry and lashing out is what he does best. When he can’t get the upper hand, he has always gone for emotional terrorism. He is just trying to rattle me. So, I want to believe it is a lie, but I can see the truth of it in his eyes now.

Fedor was standing there with me when the fire chief told us how the fire started, and I have relived the moment over and over again in the years since. The way Fedor didn’t collapse in sobs or fall apart. His face went blank and emotionless, and I assumed he was in shock. Turns out he was, but for an entirely different reason. He was in shock because he started the fire. He is the reason our parents died.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” Fedor says coldly. “They would always be dead, and it would always be my fault. So, I decided to own it. Let it make me stronger.”

If I wasn’t so close to being sick, I would laugh. Fedor thinks this is strength. He thinks being murderous and unhinged is power, and it is laughable and pitiable and terrifying.

“If I walk out, will your men shoot me in the back?” Fedor asks.

“Mutually assured destruction,” I remind him. “And unlike you, I’m not willing to die for this feud.”

He shrugs like that is my personal choice and directs his men to leave.

I don’t breathe until they are all gone and my men are standing around us in a circle, guns pointed outwards.

As soon as I’m positive we are all safe, I spin around and wrap my arms around Molly and Theo.

Tears are rolling down Molly’s cheeks, and Theo is shaking in her arms, and I wish I could do more to comfort them. All I can do is lead them from the warehouse and into the waiting car.

Once Molly’s tears stop, she is shockingly calm. Her face is neutral, eyes blank, and she hugs Theo on her lap and kisses his cheek occasionally, but doesn’t say anything else.

Theo manages to fall asleep on the drive home, which only goes to show how adaptable children are, and Molly walks him up to his room and puts him down for a nap while I check the security on the apartment. I triple-check that everything is locked down before I go up and find Molly standing next to the bed.

I walk up behind her and gently wrap my arms around her waist, pressing a kiss to her neck. She doesn’t respond at all. Her body stays rigid, and when I look up, I realize why.

There is a suitcase sitting on the edge of the bed.

It is empty, but Molly is standing in front of it, staring down at it like she is waiting for it to begin speaking to her.

“Molly?” I say softly, trying to keep my voice even, free of the fear and rage and confusion clouding my thoughts.

“If this was any other relationship, I’d leave.” The words are matter-of-fact and simple. “I’d pack up my things and get out of here … but I can’t.”

I feel numb. I’d rather have a gun pointed at my head right now than hear her say these words. I’d rather face down my brother in hand-to-hand combat than listen to Molly wish she could leave me. Because I want her. Only her. Always her.

I’ve tried my best to stay cold and calculating, to keep my emotions separate from my actions to ensure I make the best decisions for her and Theo and our unborn baby, but it has all been for naught. Because right now, I burn for Molly. I’m not emotionally distant from her. I’m entangled in her. My heart is beating outside of my body, and at any second, Molly could stomp on it and end me.

“And do you want to know the craziest part?” Molly whispers.

No, I think. I don’t.

Molly turns around and tears are tracking down her cheeks now. She is still in the wedding dress she wore during our photo shoot and mascara is slipping down her face.

“The craziest part is that I’m not sure I want to leave.”

A sob slips between her lips, and I pull her against my chest. She leans into me, not knowing how much I need this. How much her presence is comforting to me, even if it is wrecking me at the same time.

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