Chapter 22
22
Kirill
T he air in the room turns thicker. I rack my mind, putting information into categories of what I can reveal and what I can't. There's a razor-thin line between The Underworld's secrets and the truth about why Fiona's father meant so much to me.
It isn't an option for Bridget to understand I won't harm her daughter and that I have the utmost respect for her deceased husband. And Fiona has to maintain her relationship with her family. I won't be able to live with myself if it crumbles.
Dante sneers at me, ordering, "Start talking."
I resist the urge to tell him off. I put my hand over Fiona's, reminding myself again that this is her family. They can't hate me, even though I'm unsure if it will ever be possible for them to like me.
No matter what, I'm a Petrov. According to The Underworld's terms, Fiona has to change her last name. She'll bear a name that represents everything they despise.
I push my instincts away, and focus on Bridget, admitting, "I knew your husband very well."
Bridget's expression hardens as she grips Dante's hand .
"I'm only alive because of him. He saved me twice, not just once. So when I tell you I have nothing but respect for him and your children, I'm not lying." The claw in my stomach reappears.
Bridget maintains the same look, but fear has crept into her eyes as well.
I glance at Fiona, and she stares at me nervously.
I continue, "My father and my uncles tried to kill me. They did the damage to my body."
Bridget swallows hard, with a swirl of disgust and pity on her expression.
I hate it. I should be used to it by now, but I'm not. My stomach twists, and I force myself to go on. "They took a knife and not only scarred me on my face but my entire body. Your husband is the one who found me."
Bridget asks, "Why would Sean be the one to find you?"
"I'm sorry. There are certain things I cannot tell you."
She seethes, "Then don't sit here and act like my husband was a traitor."
I hold my hands in the air. "Whoa. Your husband was not a traitor. He was far from it, and I didn't insinuate anything of the sort."
"Didn't you?" she questions.
Fiona's relationship with her family is at stake, I remind myself .
I resist the urge to lash out, shaking my head, and firmly reiterate, "No, I didn't. If you took it that way, again, I apologize."
Bridget blinks hard, and Dante slides his arm around her, as if to protect her from me. But the truth will always hurt, no matter what I say. Sean was her husband and the father of her children; she loved him. There's always been mystery around what he was involved in that led to his death, and I wish I could clarify it for her, but I can't. My loyalty to The Underworld won't allow me to break my vows.
So I decide what I can tell her, then continue. "Your husband made sure I was okay. I was still young, only eighteen...barely a man."
"Yes, I already know this," she states.
Surprised, I swallow hard, fighting emotions that crawl up whenever I revisit the past and the horror of what my own family did to me. I ask, "He told you about me?"
Something passes in her expression and she nods. "Yes."
Dante asks, "How did Sean even find you?"
"I told you I can't disclose that information. If I do, Fiona will be in harm's way, and neither of us wants that, correct?" I challenge.
He stays silent, intensifying his scowl.
Bridget snaps, "Stop using my daughter as a reason for you not to tell me. I want to know what Sean was involved in that would put him in a position to save a Petrov!"
I sigh.
Fiona grumbles, "Mom. He's not using me as an excuse."
Bridget's eyes narrow. "What do you know about your father that you aren't telling me?"
Fiona shuts her mouth and turns her greens on me.
I squeeze her hand tighter and offer, "There are things you'll never know about, and I'm sorry it has to be that way."
"But yet my children can know?" Bridget accuses.
"I know this is hard?—"
"You have no idea what's hard," she interjects, her voice shaking .
Dante tugs her closer.
My heart pounds harder. Guilt floods me. It's a cruel reality Bridget was dealt all those years ago and now has to relive.
A tense silence fills the air.
What am I trying to say to her anyway?
There's not a lot I can tell her.
She glances at our hands and questions, "Did you steal my husband's drawing?"
"His drawing?" I glance down, and Fiona's diamond ring glints back at me brightly. My stomach flips faster. I meet Bridget's eyes, adding, "Oh, I see."
Her lips quiver.
Every question she wants answers to involves The Underworld, but my conscience won't let me sit here and continue to gaslight her. I remind myself that my men checked Dante's penthouse. They claim no recording devices remain.
It was a quick sweep.
Can I still trust the team?
Who can I trust right now besides Fiona, Sean, and Zara?
Valentina.
Maybe Brax, as he's like a brother to Sean and Fiona.
Bridget accuses, "You can't even deny the ring is Sean's design."
Fiona starts, "Mom, please?—"
"No, I know that ring," she claims, and a wave of pain crosses her expression.
Why did I give it to Fiona ?
I should have anticipated this.
I didn't know Bridget knew anything about the ring.
Her pain radiates into me, tearing at my heart, so I try to calm her, stating, "Sean gave me a copy of the drawing. I thought it would be a nice gesture for Fiona to have something her father designed. I didn't know it was for you or that you had seen it, or I wouldn't have had it made," I lie, feeling guilty, but knowing Bridget can never know Sean made Fiona's ring for her.
Her face crumples. She turns toward the window, and more tears stream down her cheeks.
Dante's eyes darken to another level. His hatred burns right at me.
"Mom, I'm sorry you're hurt. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you," Fiona cries.
Bridget glances back, sniffles, and lifts her chin, squaring her shoulders just like Fiona does. With a new strength in her voice, she accuses, "You have my husband's skull branded on your hand, and now you forced my daughter to get one on her neck."
"He didn't force me," Fiona grinds out.
"It's okay," I say to her in a gentle voice.
She shakes her head, "No, it's not. You didn't force me. I chose to get it. It's not fair for you to get blamed for things I chose to do on my own."
Every good emotion I've ever had about my wife exponentially grows in that moment. I don't know why she finds it so easy to stand up for me or act like there's no reason not to love me, even though I know it's too soon for her to feel that deep emotion.
Love.
What am I thinking ?
Bridget pins her wet gaze on me. "I want to know why my children wear Sean's mark. I'm not stupid. The men have it branded on their hands and the women on their necks. What was he a part of, and what have you gotten my daughter into?"
My chest tightens. Fiona fibs, "He hasn't gotten me into anything."
I toss her a pleading look to stop talking. I'd rather do the lying here. So I quickly add, "It was a tribute to your husband and nothing more."
"Bullshit," Bridget snaps.
I remain silent, wondering how we'll ever get to a point when I can't tell the truth and she knows I'm lying.
Dante snarls, "If you're going to sit here and lie to us, there's no point talking."
I state, "I'm trying to tell you what I can. And you should know the most important thing in all of this."
Bridget scoffs. "What's that?"
"Your daughter will always be protected. I will die making sure no one ever touches her."
"No one but you?" Bridget hurls out in a mix of disgust, horror, and fear.
It's so intense it almost cripples me.
She orders, "You need to divorce my daughter. This marriage cannot become public, and you know it."
The air in my lungs turns stale. I reply, "I'm sorry, but I won't ever do such a thing."
Dante roars, "You know a Petrov cannot be married to an O'Malley!"
Frustrated, I rub my hand over my face and release an exasperated breath. "I know this is hard for you. "
Bridget cries out, "Don't you say that to me. What your family has done to..." She stops and looks away.
The tension grows thicker.
I've never felt so guilty or horrible. I know the role my family played in Sean's demise and what they did to her, and it's haunted me since it happened. I've always blamed myself for not knowing about it so I could have tried to prevent it.
Fiona questions, "Done to whom or what?"
I look at her, ordering, "Leave it."
She jerks her head back and glares at me. I can't blame her. I told her there would be no more secrets, but I would rather die than tell her what I know.
Bridget's voice shakes. She barely gets out, "You know everything?"
I clench my jaw, meeting her gaze.
Horror, shame, and agony fill her expression.
Dante barks, "Enough of this. Whose side are you on, Fiona?"
Her hand trembles.
I grip it and answer for her, stating, "She's not on any side. She's the same person she was before she married me."
"She married a Petrov," Dante says with disgust.
"Yes, we've already established that fact, and we're going to all have to get over it," I claim.
Dante roars, "Get over it? You don't get over it."
My stomach flips. Before I can think, I hurl, "Then you're going to disown Fiona?"
A tense, disturbing silence fills the room .
Fiona rises, and her voice quivers. "I think I know the answer to that question. Don't worry, Dante, you won't have to deal with me now that I'm a Petrov." She turns to me. "Let's go."
I rise. "Fiona, we can't leave like this."
"I said I want to go. They've made their position clear," she firmly asserts.
I glance at Bridget, declaring, "You cannot disown your daughter."
Her gaze darts between Dante and Fiona. Her mouth hangs open, and no words come out. Tears drip off her chin.
Dante backtracks. "I didn't say we're disowning her."
A bit of relief fills me. I nod. "That's good."
Fiona hurls, "You might as well have. And since I'm not divorcing my husband, I guess there's clearly nothing left to say between us."
"Fiona—" I start.
"No. Let's go, Kirill," she demands, then grabs her coat and marches toward the front door.
Bridget calls out, "Fiona!"
She spins back to snarl at her mother, "What? I'm not going to stand here and feel bad for marrying Kirill. He's as much of a victim as everybody else, and you know it because Dad told you about it. So why don't you think about that instead of what all the other Petrovs do, because he's not one of them!"
"You're going to have his last name. There are consequences," Dante blurts out.
Fiona glares daggers at him, spouting, "You're not my father, so stay out of this."
The color drains from his face, and shock and hurt explode over his features .
"Fiona!" Bridget exclaims.
I interject, "I think we need to discuss things at a different time. This is getting too heated."
A sad, confused, fearful, and upset Bridget stares at me.
"We will discuss this at another time," I assure her. "I'm sorry we've upset you and caused you pain. Truly, I am."
She looks at me as if she's not sure what to believe.
I guide Fiona into the foyer and shut the door. I push the button to the elevator. The doors open, we step inside, and I press the button.
With tears falling, she claims, "They're never going to forgive me."
I tug her into me and hold her head to my chest, kissing the top of it, murmuring, "I'm sorry. We need to give them time to process this."
She pushes away from me, shaking her head. "No. You don't understand. They are never going to forgive me, and they have no other option except to disown me."
"Don't say that."
"It's true."
"No, it's not. We'll work through this. It will just take time," I insist.
She puts her hand over her face.
I tug her back into me, and she sobs as the elevator descends.
The doors open on the garage level. We exit and get into the SUV. We don't speak during the short drive, and we get out when the driver pulls up next to the elevator in the parking garage of my building.
It's slow as molasses like the broken one, which I'm still shocked hasn't been fixed. I vow to make good on some of my threats.
The doors finally open. I lead Fiona into the foyer and open the door to the main penthouse. My nerves reappear, and I say, "After you, my bride."
She obeys, stepping into the room and then glancing around. My heart races. I quickly state, "We can decorate it however you want."
She turns to me, and whispers, "This place is beautiful."
"You like it?" I question in surprise.
She glances around again, answering, "Yes. What wouldn't I love?"
Relief fills me. I admit, "I don't know, but I want you to feel like this is your home because it is now."
She steps forward and wraps her arms around my neck. "It's beautiful. And I'm sorry that you had to go through that." She kisses me on the lips.
I kiss her back, then retreat, assuring, "You don't have to say you're sorry. Your family is hurt, but I promise you, we will figure this out with them."
A sad look crosses her expression. "I don't know, Kirill, but I'm tired. Where's the bedroom?" She releases me and steps back.
I take her hand and walk her through the penthouse and into the bedroom.
She goes to the side of the bed, strips off her clothes, and slips under the sheets. She questions, "Are you coming to bed?"
I swear there's a hopeful look in her eyes, but I'm probably imagining it, so I silently scold myself. I reply, "I have a few things I need to do. I'll be in soon."
"Okay." She curls into the pillow.
I lean down, kiss her head, and shut the bedroom door. I call my head of security.
Draco answers, "Sir? "
"Are there any cameras or devices remaining in my house?"
"No, sir. We found four. Then we did another scan, but nothing else turned up."
"You're sure no one's watching us or listening?" I ask, feeling paranoid.
"Yes, sir." His tone is sure.
"Okay." I hang up and pace around the penthouse, trying to figure out how to get Fiona's family to come around. The last thing Sean O'Malley would've wanted was for his daughter not to speak to Bridget or even Dante.
Then, another realization hits me. A bigger problem looms.
I go into my office, turn on the computer, and open the dark web. I go into The Underworld chat room with the Royal Council. It's comprised of thirteen Omni, not all 666 that hold seats at the table. I glance at the calendar of moon phases and then type.
Me: Meeting on waning gibbous.
I send the message and sit back, worrying about how to protect Fiona, who the traitor is within The Underworld and if it's an Omni, and how to get Fiona back in good graces with her family.