Chapter 31 Revelation
Revelation
Isla
Roman finished his comparison of Russia and America, and I sat there stunned, trying to digest everything he said. The information flowed out of him, like he was certain of it.
I liked that he was multifaceted. No, I loved it. We could be discussing geopolitics and history in the morning, sharing our varied tastes in music and movies over lunch, and in the evening, he would finish me off with the filthiest words.
No matter what we spoke about, he not only held up his side of the conversation but also added to my knowledge base. He intrigued me, stimulated me…he made me complete.
"Do you believe in God? Seeing as you're both Russian and American?" I blurted out, not having the chance to think over the question. He considered it for a moment.
"I don't know,” he responded truthfully.
"I don't know if I believe in God. I was an atheist, but then.
..certain things happen in your life, and you think.
..that can't just be a coincidence; it can't." His gaze was unfocused, like he was plunged into memories, but then he returned the question. "Do you believe in God?"
I didn't even need to think about it. "No.
I don't. If there was a God, there wouldn't be so much pain and suffering that was undeserved.
" My words were harsh and absolute, and I regretted bringing the topic up.
Immediately, images of my parents' lifeless bodies floated to the top of my mind, dread coming over me.
Roman nodded slightly and then leaned in closer, slowly running his hands up my shins underwater. "I agree,” he murmured. "There’s a lot of pain and suffering in the world...that’s given to the most innocent ones."
It hit me that he too lost someone close to him to a very tragic fate. Someone who didn't deserve it. I was curious to know more.
"Do you ever see your dad?" I asked quietly, shamelessly probing deeper into who he was.
Without hesitation, he shook his head to say no.
It seemed that Roman crossed the ocean to see his aunts and his business connections, but not his father.
"How come?" I asked more, hoping he wouldn't shut down my curiosity.
He didn't, answering without hesitation.
"Because he left…when Natasha and I were very young. He abandoned my mom with an eight and a three-year-old. Here—in a completely foreign country. That’s worse than betrayal. I don't ever want to talk to him."
I tried to imagine what that must’ve been like for all of them—and then to lose his mother, too. He’d been through more than I realized. “Why did your family leave Russia?” I asked softly. There was so much I still didn’t know about him.
He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his voice low.
“Because the nineties was a brutal time. The country was falling apart. My dad was an engineer, and he lost his job overnight. My mom was a professional pianist, and she was also left with nothing.” He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the water.
“There was rampant and open crime. Gang wars in the streets in broad daylight. Infrastructure collapsing. Government assets sold off for pennies. And then war in Chechnya, of course.” Roman’s eyes glazed over as he finished his morbid story.
“So they came here for a better life, but…it all went to hell here too.”
Wow.
"I'm sorry, baby. That must’ve been such a hard childhood.” I shifted closer to him in the tub, careful as I maneuvered around his long limbs. I’d never called him baby before, but once I said it, I always wanted to call him that. He was, he was my baby.
The position was awkward, but I planted a soft kiss on his lips, one that he took eagerly. It dawned on me then how composed he always was. In control over everything at all times, but underneath all that…there was so much pain.
All the love and affection of the universe reflected in his beautiful eyes and warm smile. "Did you have a happy childhood?" he asked, his voice full of hope. His fingers trailed down my cheek, leaving drops of warm water on my skin.
"I did.” I nodded and sat back, all the memories of my past life bringing a small smile to my face. “I had a great childhood. I’m very grateful for the life that I had. My parents were in love, and our family was very close.”
A memory floated in—all of us singing happy birthday to my dad, who was beaming. His last birthday before my brother was diagnosed. “My mom was an accountant, and my dad owned a big construction and concrete company. But then, like a switch, one day everything just went to shit.”
Roman observed me, his gaze sharp and all of him serious like never before. After a long silence, he asked, apprehension and caution in his voice. "What was your dad's company's name?"
"Anders Concrete I knew it, I felt it.
On the verge of tears, he dragged both hands down his cheeks, covering his face for a moment before letting out a shuddering breath.
But then he pulled himself together, cleared his throat, and began.
“I was responsible for the death of your parents. They didn't die in a car accident.”
My heart stopped.
“Their bodies were placed in the right place, at the right time. And the coroner never provided the correct cause of death because...” he trailed off, searching for words.
“Because we paid him to file what we needed.
And then he died in a tragic accident too.
Your parents' car was totaled somewhere else.
And in the commotion of the unfortunate highway car pileup, their car was brought in and placed there. "
I felt like Roman punched me in the face. I stood planted to the floor, my teeth chattering from his admission and my body swirling with panic, distress, and absolute horror at his words.
What? What did he say?
I took a second to just go over his words: I was responsible for the death of your parents. Did he say that? Was I dreaming?
"W-why?" I whispered, devoid of any real questions but wanting to know the full extent of it.
Roman was shattered, real tears lighting up his blue eyes. He swallowed hard and then delivered the death blow.
"Because...Anders Concrete & Cement won a public tender, and it deeply interfered with our expansion in California. They were awarded a huge contract...here,” he nodded, one hand on his hip and the other in his hair.
“We tried to have a civil conversation with your father and get him to back down, but he refused.
He refused once, twice, three times. Instead of putting pressure on him, we made the decision to get rid of him completely.
It was supposed to be just him in the...in the car, but unfortunately, your mom was there too, so...both of them were killed. They died the morning of that huge car pileup on the highway, and it…it was a last-minute decision. To place their bodies and car there."
Roman finished his evil speech, ripping my heart out of my chest. He became all blurry, and for some reason he and the room slid up into the ceiling. Something blunt crashed against my knees, and a sharp pain seared the left side of my face.
And then there was nothing.
Just darkness.