37. Bash
Chapter 37
Bash
“Careful, it’s hot,” I say, handing Stasia a cup of tea where she sits on the sofa. She still looks shaken from earlier. Some of her light dimmed after realizing the tiara she needs is gone. I am such a fucking asshole, the lowest of low pond scum that has ever had the misfortune of being in her vicinity.
In my selfishness, I never once considered how this would all affect her. My only saving grace is I meant my promise. I’m going to fix all of this so she never looks that broken again. I expected anger, so I wasn’t prepared for the fear in her eyes when she found the tiara missing.
I need her to explain it all to me on her own without me pushing her.
Sitting on the sofa, I pull her onto my lap so she’s sitting across my knees. My throat constricts when she doesn’t fight me. Instead, she rests her head against my shoulder, knuckles white on the mug.
Not knowing what’s going on with her is eating me alive. Each second, another bite out of my willpower. My need to figure out what the hell is happening so I can actually do something about it has me about to explode.
“Bash.” Stasia’s voice is soft, broken, and my heart rips when her blue eyes shine with tears. She sets her mug on the table, and her lips tremble when she says, “You shouldn’t be close to me. I’m not a good person to be around. Everyone…everyone ends up getting hurt.”
“You? You’re not a good person? Little miss donates her time to teach kids ballet? Breaks into buildings to help her brother? I call bullshit.”
She chuckles softly but goes quiet, staring at her navel for several aching seconds before speaking. “If I hadn’t been so selfish, she’d never have fallen, and…I’m the reason my family’s in this mess to begin with… Nikolai gave up his childhood to raise me… My father hates me.” She rasps in a breath between sentences, and the sound nearly kills me. “I’m the reason my mom died.”
She’s tearing herself apart thread by thread in front of me as she confesses, cracks forming as she unravels.
“Stop.” I grip her arms and twist her so she’s straddling my thighs, facing me. I’m so fucking furious I’d dig her dad up and kill him again if I could. “Who gives you the authority to take all of this on yourself? You were a kid when your mom passed away. A child , Stasia. Would you ever blame Olivia if something were to happen to her parents? Do you think Matthias would ever abandon his kids for any reason?” I cup her cheeks. “Your father is the only person that has anything to be guilty about. He left you in this position. I’d be pissed at your brother for making you do this all on your own, but knowing you, you didn’t give him a chance to do anything else.”
Watery smile, eyes shifting down and to the side. Guilty.
I want to see her smile, laugh, break away from all of this, but I know firsthand the kind of damage a dark past can bring. For some reason, my girl thinks this is all her fault, and I’m going to do everything I can to prove her wrong. I brush her scarlet hair behind her ear, stroking her cheek with my thumb.
“Tell me about your mom,” I ask softly.
Tears pool in her eyes, fanning over her bottom lashes and down her cheeks, and I freeze. Fucking idiot. You’re supposed to be soothing her, not making it worse.
She relaxes in my arms and snuggles into my chest. “You would have loved her. She was…she was…”
“Delightful? Effervescent? Remarkable?” I ask.
She tilts her head, studying me. “Do you remember her?”
I shake my head. “Not really, but I know you.”
She snorts. “Oh man, that was really corny.”
“Are you seriously laughing right now? I’m over here confessing my…” I snap my mouth shut. Not the time, dumbass.
“I remember her hair, how it looked just like yours does now,” I say before she can process my ramblings. It works because her eyes soften as if she’s looking through her own memories.
“It was my fifth birthday, you know? I was so excited.” She feels too light in my arms as she begins to tremble.“I know…” She sniffles. “I know it was an accident. Of course I can understand that, but…if it wasn’t for me. If I didn’t insist on that stupid freaking balloon… The truth is I knew she’d get it for me—she’d always done everything to make me happy. I should have told her it was dangerous, but I just wanted it so bad.”
I brush the hair from her face. “You know it’s not your fault, so why do you keep blaming yourself?”
“Because.” Her eyes are sharp. “I can’t rewind time and fix it. There’s no getting her back. It might not be my fault, but no matter what, I’m still the reason she climbed on that counter…the reason she fell. If it wasn’t for me, the Volkov family wouldn’t have imploded that day.”
I never knew the specifics around the death of Mrs. Volkov other than she passed from a fall. Xander’s words from the other day don’t sit well. He said that the Russians may have played a part in it. I can’t tell Stasia yet—it wouldn’t do anything but hurt—but I’ll ask Xander to keep digging. If I find out they made my girl hurt like this, I’ll gladly rip them apart.
“Listen, Anastasia. You are going to stop beating yourself up for this right now. You are not the reason your mother passed. It was a tragic accident, and it never should have happened. There’s nothing fair about it, but you hating yourself over it won’t change that. Promise to stop blaming yourself?”
Her nose is red, and she’s still not meeting my gaze, but she nods.
“Good. Now, tell me why you need this tiara because I know it’s not just to avoid your brother getting married.” I don’t bother mentioning the Russians’ plans to marry her off because that’s never been a possibility from the start. Not if any of them want to survive.
“My dad borrowed money from the Salvatore family.”
Fucking idiot.
She covers her face with her palms. “We didn’t know until after he died. We went to our Russian family for a loan, but they wanted the Kokoshnik Tiara first.”
He is so fucking lucky he’s already dead. The Salvatores are ruthless in the way they do business, ruling the ones under them with fear. A shudder runs down my spine at the thought of what the Salvatore Organization does with women who can’t repay their debts.
“You’re hurting me,” Stasia squeaks, and I loosen my grip.
“Sorry…” I grit out. “I’m just processing the fact that your father may actually be a bigger asshole than mine was, and I’m really not sure how I feel about him being knocked down from that top spot. I’ve basically made daddy issues my entire personality.”
She chuckles, and some of the spark returns to her eyes, easing the tension curling in my chest.
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Oh yeah?” I drop my forehead to hers. “What’s that?”
“Trying to make me laugh.” She tilts her head so our lips brush against each other.
“Is it working?” I rasp.
I’m grateful when she shoves me back because God knows how far I would have taken this. Somehow, I don’t think fucking her on the couch is the right way to go. I crack my neck. “So you get the tiara, and your Russian family will release your brother and give you the money to pay off the Salvatores?”
“Pretty much. I know I’m putting too much trust into them. That they don’t have a lot of reasons to help us, but honestly, asking for the tiara made more sense than them just lending us the money. Plus, now we won’t actually owe them anything after. Nikolai will be free to do what he wants for the first time in his life.”
I tamp down the sickening pit of jealousy. Apparently, I’m going to be jealous of anyone she cares about for the foreseeable future.
None of this sits right with me. Not her mom’s death, the way her dad gambled all their money, and especially not the Russians’ willingness to help. Power never wants to give up power, and a family like that wouldn’t do anything from the kindness of their heart.
Anastasia’s mine now, which means her problems are mine. Whether she’s ready to realize it or not, she’s not alone in this. I stroke her back in long, slow movements and promise, “I’ll help you.”
It’s hours before Stasia’s breath evens out and she’s finally asleep. I carefully disentwine her arms from around my waist, careful not to wake her as I get out of bed. I collapse against the sofa, fisting my hair and yanking hard on the end. I royally fucked up.
This whole time, I had no idea what she was going through, and I should have fucking known. I should know everything about her.
I pull out my phone and dial Damon. I’m going to fix this right now.
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Damon’s voice is rough with sleep. He used to be an insomniac, but his wife, Misty, fixed that years ago. Now, it’s their kids who keep him up at night.
“I fucked up, Damon,” I say.
Shuffling noises come from the other side of the phone and the click of a door shutting. “What’s up?”
I have no doubt I could tell him I murdered someone in Times Square, and he’d help cover it for me.
“I didn’t realize why Stasia needed that tiara. I hurt her, Dam…I hurt my girl.”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” he deadpans.
“I know. So where did you put it so I can fix this?”
He clears his throat, and there’s a long pause before he answers. “I gave it to the Archives.”
“Jesus Christ…I didn’t mean to make it impossible to get back.” The Archives is the Order of Saints’ highest-guarded building. It’s what holds everything the Order wants to keep safe. The fact that the Kokoshnik Tiara wasn’t already placed in there tells you just how precious the other items are.
“You told me to hide it. What did you expect?” Damon says, the sound of his fridge opening and closing soft in the background.
“I wanted to search for it, not risk our lives stealing it.” I drop my head back and pinch my nose. This is going to be a problem. I promised Stasia I would get the tiara, but even as a Lord, it’ll be hard to retrieve it from the archive. It’s a fortified building. It won’t be as simple as getting an ID and wearing a disguise. Not impossible, but not easy either.
“Too late. You should have been more specific. Watch yourself—they aren’t going to want to give it up. You should have seen how excited those greedy bastards were when I dropped it off.”
I should confess that I can just go in there and request it. It might require some begging on my part, but I can get it. None of the actual sneaking in and stealing portion of our plan was ever necessary, but even with her tears, I still want to drag this out a little longer.
I never said I’m a good person, and if one more day with her allows me to convince her she’s mine, then I will take it.
“Daddy,” my nephew says, and I wince. Damon is going to kill me.
“What are you doing up, kiddo?” Damon asks in a voice he only uses with his kids.
“I heard you talking.”
“You are so dead,” Damon growls into the phone, raising the hair at the back of my neck. He can be scary as fuck when he wants to be.
“Got to go, bye!” I quickly hang up.
Now that’s taken care of, I’m ready to climb back into bed and cuddle up with my girl. First, I need to settle things with the Salvatores because like fuck am I going to let her stay at risk. Not when I’m the one dragging this out.
I dial the head of the Salvatore family. He picks up within three rings.
“To what do I owe the pleasure of being contacted by the youngest Everette brother.” His voice is clear. I’m not surprised I didn’t wake him. His world operates at night.
“You own a debt for the Volkov family.”
“I own a lot of people’s debts. What’s it to you,” he asks.
“You’re going to sell it to me,” I state.
“Now, why would I do that?”
“Because I’ll pay double.”
He laughs. “Fuck, that redhead got you good, didn’t she?”
“Don’t speak about her. I won’t warn you again. So, we have a deal?”
“I think you’re a fucking idiot, but we have a deal.”
“Never said I wasn’t. I’ll have my accountant wire you the money, so make sure you get the paperwork aligned.”
I can hear the smirk in his voice. “As always, it’s a pleasure doing work with you.”
I hang up the phone. “I’ll gladly be an idiot when it comes to her. She’ll probably hate me for this, but I’ll fix that too.”
She snuggles into me, my name soft on her lips the second I climb into bed. I kiss the top of her head and whisper,“I love you, Stasia.”