Page 71 of Twisted Empire: King's Gambit

MIKHAIL

It’s a strange thing, feeling the weight of someone else’s feelings. And as I pull Gabriette into my arms, I realize I’ve been carrying that weight around with me for a long time — carrying it and pushing it away, scared shitless of what it means.

She feels so fragile in this moment, and yet she’s the strongest person I know. I hold her tightly to me as she weeps, my body towering over hers.

It’s like coming home after years of being lost at sea. Her familiar scent washes over me, a soothing balm to the gnawing wounds that have been left open for too long. I take her to the bed and gently lay her down, the gravity of what I’m about to show her already weighing heavily on me.

I’ve been drinking myself into a stupor for the last two days, scared of what I’d do once I got back here. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, so I knew the only way to get out of the funk I was in was to confront her.

So, here I am.

Wordlessly, I reach for my phone on the nightstand and flick to the image that’s been the splinter in my mind these past days—her and another man in an intimate situation. My jaw clenches at the mere thought of it, but I have to know. I have to hear it from her.

“Explain this,” I demand, handing her the phone.

Her eyes scan the image, her face paling as she looks up at me. “I know what it looks like, but trust me, it’s anything but,” she says, handing the phone back to me.

“It’s Damien. He cornered me in the bathroom. He tried to kiss me, but I slapped him and pushed him away. I would never risk what we have. Because I—I’m in love with you and—”

Her hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, neither do her wide eyes and the blush on her cheeks. The words hang in the air, a confession she hadn’t planned on making. It’s as if she spoke her heart before her mind could catch up, and for some reason, that makes it even more meaningful.

It’s a tiny crack in the strong facade she maintains, and for the first time in a long while, I feel warmth spreading through me.

It’s an alien feeling, one I’ve avoided since … since her.

My hand reaches up to cup her face. “I think it’s time I told you about my past. About why I am the way I am. It may explain things better.”

Looking into her eyes, I know I have to tell her, tell her about the scars that shaped me, about the shadows that still haunt my steps. I take a deep breath, feeling like I’m on the edge of a precipice.

“Ten years ago, I was engaged to a woman named Dasha. We were in love, or at least, I thought she felt the same,” I sigh, swallowing deeply. “I came home from a business trip and found her in bed with Michael, my second-in-command. They had been carrying on behind my back for three years.”

Her mouth opens in a silent gasp and I know she’s close to saying something comforting, so I continue and my grip tightens at the memory.

“I found out the hard way. Walked in on them in my own fucking bed. My father was there with me and witnessed the whole goddamn fiasco. He... he made me deal with it, deal with them the Baranov way. And not in the way you might think.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the next part. “My father is not a man who takes betrayal lightly; he loathes it with his entire being. I had to kill them, right then and there; slit their throats and watched them bleed out. It’s not something I’m proud of. But it’s a burden I’ve had to carry.”

Her eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of disbelief and dawning understanding. But it’s what comes next that really tears me apart.

“Afterwards, I found out Dasha was pregnant. I still don’t know if that child was mine. I’ve carried that weight with me, Gabriette. Every goddamn day, it’s there, reminding me of who I am, of what I’m capable of.”

That I’m a fucking monster, but with this life I lead, I’ve had to become one.

She cups my face in her soft hands and I literally have to breathe out a sigh I didn’t know I was holding. There’s so much emotion in those whiskey eyes of hers, emotion I’m not worthy of being the recipient of.

“In a way, that moment carved me into what I am today—a man less willing to trust, less willing to love. But you, Gabriette, you’re changing that. Your confession tonight, unplanned as it was, has given me something I haven’t had in a long time. Hope.”

I pause, letting my next words gather their weight because of what I’m about to admit, I haven’t said to anyone else in ten years.

“I’ve been fighting it like the coward that I am. But I knew from the moment you stood up to me, from the moment you drove that getaway car like a fucking bat out of hell, that I was going to fall hard, and I have,” I say, chuckling. “I love you too,Malyshka. I’ve been holding that back, guarding myself, because... well, you know why. But I can’t keep it in any longer, especially not after tonight.”

Her eyes search mine, as if validating the sincerity of my words, and those tears welling in her eyes now fall freely down her cheeks. She tries to say something, but then stops herself, her bottom lip trembling in the cutest way.

“I want to forget about all this shit—the picture, the suspicions, the fucking chaos it’s caused in my head. It’s tearing me apart. I don’t want to feel like that, not when I’m with you. Let’s move on from this. Let’s not let the past, mine or yours, ruin what we have. Can we do that?”

She leans in, her lips finding mine in a sweet, lingering kiss that says more than any words ever could. Yes, we can move on. Yes, we can confront whatever darkness lies ahead. Together.

And for the first time, that concept—of facing the future, not alone but with someone else—doesn’t terrify me. It strengthens me.

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