Chapter 4
NIKOLAI
The echo of a smile pulls at the corner of my lip as I watch Elena climb the wooden ladder of the slide.
It’s hard to show happiness today. Every year that slips past is one more of mourning. As Elena grows older, her memories fade.
But mine are crystal clear.
Dark curls and bright eyes. Soft lips and a taut stomach ripe with life.
The way Katerina’s fingers wove into my hair when she would tug me close for a fierce kiss.
She was my warrior.
My source of light in this life.
She died as she lived, violently.
I still see her in Elena’s glance. The way she chews on her lip or cocks her mouth when she concentrates.
Jax is a bittersweet reminder, too.
He looks so similar to his sister. The first year working with him made an ache in my chest that she wasn’t there to know him.
The cruelty of her leaving so soon.
Love that she never got to feel.
It hurts more today than most.
“Hard to believe it’s been five years.” Mikhail looks out of place in his dark suit and black balaclava covering his face.
He sits next to me on the park bench and hands me an iced coffee.
“Is there vodka in this?” I nearly spit it out, but it does taste good.
“For the pain.” He idly rubs his jaw through his mask. “May one day it fade.” He holds up his cup to the wind before shifting the fabric away from his mouth far enough for the straw.
“Gonna lose that wrap when it happens?” I lean against the warm wood back and drape my elbow over it.
The alcohol wasn’t a bad idea. It’s mixed stiff and doesn’t take long to lend a little numbness to my thoughts.
“No. It’s who I am now.” Mikhail watches Elena run to the plastic pirate ship on the playground where she climbs behind the oversized wheel and spins it. “We may have fled the past, but it sticks with us.”
His jacket snugs around his biceps when he props his arm near mine. “I wish we could end this war. For her sake.” He gestures with his drink before taking another sip. “She doesn’t deserve any more pain.”
I grunt in agreement.
She lost her mother when I lost my wife. Elena may have been young when it happened, but she still wakes up asking for her.
“You know the only way that happens is when Ivan dies.” It isn’t a question. We both accepted it as fact years ago.
Mikhail leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees before staring at the ground. “We aren’t strong enough yet, brother.” He acts like the words punch him in the gut. “I think I found a buyer for the diamonds you found. But, this stuff takes time.” He pushes up his sleeve to expose his Rolex. “I have to go. Give Elena my love. The hot chocolate is for her.” He sets it down on the bench as he stands.
“It’s Vegas, Mikhail. The sun is already melting my head.” This is nothing like the nine months of winter we grew up with.
“She’s a kid. They thrive on sweets. She won’t care.” He pats my shoulder before sauntering off.
The gaggle of women sitting on the far side all turn to each other, hiding their smiles as they point at him.
He could have his choice, yet ignores them.
Always business. Forever plotting. That’s him.
I’m just existing, and hoping I’m not fucking my daughter up too badly in the process.
The best thing I could do to protect her would be to leave this life. But, I learned five years ago today, that the shadows of the past always come back to haunt.
It’s safer being with the few people I trust, for her sake.
“Daddy? Was that Uncle Miki?” Elena’s cheeks are flushed from running. Or, the savage heat. “Did he bring me anything?” She eyes the smaller cup and bats her lashes.
“He did, but it’s too hot to drink.” I need to talk to him about only giving her gifts and never spending any time with her. Connection to family is what he needs more than anything.
She picks up her treat and takes a tentative sip before tipping it back and guzzling like a frat boy with a beer bong.
“Elena! What did I say?” I scowl at her.
She gives me a sheepish grin and wipes the chocolate from her lip. “It was fine, Daddy. Here.” Pushing the empty container into my hand, she skips to a balance board nearby. “Can we get some ice cream on the way home?” She doesn’t look back, but I’m sure she knows I’m following.
“Today, we will do anything you want.” I usually have rules she follows. But on the anniversary of Katerina’s death, the last thing I want to do is argue.