Page 124 of Ruby Mercy

It’s a weak attempt to break the tension. It fails, but it doesn't matter, because Kirill doesn’t fall for it anyway.

“I’m trying to understand what happened,” he murmurs.

I blow out a breath. “My dad told me that he isn’t my dad.”

“What?” Kirill barks. Suddenly, he’s on his feet, pacing across the carpet. “That son of a bitch abandoned you for your entire childhood and now, he wants to cut you off?”

I shake my head. “No, it’s not like—”

“How fucking dare he,” he hisses. “Does that bastard understand how amazing you are? He should count himself lucky that a snake like him produced someone as beautiful and fierce as you.” He growls, a deep sound that rumbles through his chest. “I’ll kill him.”

“He’s already dying,” I remind him.

“Not soon enough.”

I stand up and press a hand to his chest. His heart is thundering against his ribcage. “Are you really this worked up on my behalf?”

Kirill’s hand curls around the back of my neck before I can register what’s happening. One second, I’m standing there in front of him, and the next, my body is bowed back and I’m looking straight into his eyes less than an inch away from mine.

“I’m not upset on your behalf,” he says. “I’m upset on mine. Your father is insulting my family.”

I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m your family?”

Kirill blinks. “You’re Yuliana’s mother. Yuliana is my daughter. That makes us family.”

His words are a bucket of cold water over my head. “Right. That makes sense.”

He lets me go, and I smooth down my cotton pajama shirt. “It doesn’t matter anyway. No killing necessary. My dad—er, whoever he is to me now—he wasn’t trying to be cruel. He was stating a fact. He isn’t my biological father.”

“Fuck,” Kirill breathes. “You mean your mother’s—”

“The man she cheated on my dad with is…” I nod. Finishing the sentence seems unnecessary. I drop back down onto the edge of the bed. “Yeah, it’s a lot to process.”

He sits next to me. “Fuck.”

“My mom certainly did,” I say dryly.

There’s a pause before Kirill laughs. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be in much of a joking mood, given the circumstances.”

“Falling to pieces and going catatonic didn’t seem to help. Maybe pretending I’m fine with it will.”

“Sounds like the seven stages of grief to me,” he says, holding up his hand and ticking off fingers one at a time. “Shock comes first. Now, we’re on to denial. Next up is anger.”

A weight settles on my shoulders, making it hard to hold myself upright. Making it hard to breathe. “I don’t want to be angry.”

“Being angry is powerful, Rayne. Especially when it’s justified. Your mother lied to you about everything. You should be angry.”

“She didn’t lie about the important things,” I say. “She loved me. That was real. That will always be real.”

His hand lands on my lower back, his thumb smoothing up and down the exposed skin. Shock waves move through my body that I try to ignore. “Of course she loved you. Who wouldn’t?”

I look over at him. Was that some kind of admission? But his face is unreadable. “My dad, I guess. My real one, I mean,” I hurry to clarify. "The biological one. The one who left… though they both left in a way, didn't they?"

I can feel the words carrying me away again, but I can't seem to stop.

Then Kirill moves around to kneel in front of me. He's so tall that even on his knees he meets my eyes. His hand curls around my cheek and he brushes a thumb over my mouth.

"What are you—?"

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