Chapter 15 Yulian #2
“Since we found the evidence that Kirill planned this, it’s war again. Forget about any attempts to build a bridge.”
“Wait…” I cough, my voice raspy. “Kirill wouldn’t be so stupid as to launch an attack from his home base. Put yourself in his shoes. Would you do it?”
“Even if he didn’t do it, his people did, and that’s even worse because it means he has shaky control over his organization. Not that it matters. This alliance was already doomed, even if the camp had been a success.”
He steps closer, and I pant as his hand clamps around my chin, yanking my head up until I’m forced to meet his eyes.
“You’ve disappointed me enough for a lifetime this summer, and I will not tolerate this type of behavior again.
Going forward, you will fall in line and play the role of my heir to perfection, or I’ll see that your mother and sister are sent somewhere you’ll never find them. ”
My dad slams me back, my head cracking against the headboard. I bite down on my lower lip, so I don’t release a groan of pain. He views that as a weakness, and I guess a part of me doesn’t want to seem weak—not in front of him.
With one final glare, he heads to the door.
So much for “Get well soon, son,” I guess.
As he’s walking out, Mom comes inside, lowering her head when he glares at her while muttering curses about “a useless son and a useless mother.”
Right.
He thinks it’s my mother’s fault I’m such an “idiot.”
“Dusha moya…”
My soul.
That’s what Mom calls me in the softest voice as she approaches me.
I wince because I’m the one bleeding, yet she looks like she’s already embraced death.
Her frame is skeletal, her once beautiful face reduced to bone and hollowed cheeks.
The brown eyes I inherited half of are drained, lifeless.
Dried tear tracks stain her skin, and the dress hanging off her is far too big for what’s left of her fragile body.
Her bright auburn hair is only a wig that mimics her actual hair.
She lost it again during her last chemo session, along with her brows that are painted on now.
She doesn’t allow me or Alya to see her at her worst, always wearing perfume to cover up the gutting smell of antiseptic.
But we have seen her when she was too weak to move, too weak to wake up or kiss us good morning.
I try to sit up, grunting at the stabbing pain, and she gently pushes me back down and tucks me in. “Just rest.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, you know.” I try to smile, but it ends up in a grunt.
“You’ll always be a kid to me.” She strokes my damp hair away from my face.
“I’ll never forget the day you were born.
You were so tiny but had the rarest, most stunning eyes, and when you looked up at me, holding my finger in your little fist, I think I fell in love at first sight.
You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Dusha moya.
You know that, right? I’m so glad I have you. ”
“And I’m so glad I have you, Mama.”
At least one of my parents loves me so unconditionally, it almost makes me forget about the other one.
Almost.
She hesitates, then clears her throat. “Don’t…take your dad’s words to heart. You know he wants what’s best for you.”
Yeah, right.
But I say nothing, because my mother believes in Dad’s strong-man rhetoric. The one that says you can’t protect yourself or the people close to you if you’re not strong enough.
And really, it’s not that Dad hates her. She gave him control over her father’s empire and plays the perfect role of his “traditional” wife. He probably likes her well enough if he didn’t get rid of her after she got sick.
But then again, he probably did it for the sake of traditional values as well, so people wouldn’t bad-mouth him for abandoning his sick wife.
At any rate, he still gets all the mistresses he can handle outside of the marriage, not to mention the two illegitimate children who pose more of a threat to me, Mom, and Alina than anyone else.
They’d kill us.
They’d use Mom and Alya against me because they know I’d do anything to protect them.
Anything.
Mom coughs a few times, her chest quaking.
“Are you okay?” I try to sit up, but she waves me off.
“It’s normal.”
That didn’t sound normal. “What did the doctor say about the results of your latest treatment?”
Her expression remains the same. “We’ll discuss it later after you get better.”
That’s not good news, is it?
My heart constricts. I feel like I’m watching my mother fade right before my eyes, and I can’t do a damn thing.
It’s not like I can seize cancer by its throat and fight it to death.
She’s been battling breast cancer for so long, hanging on for dear life because, as she said, “I’ll be around to watch you grow up properly.” The cancer was initially treated a couple of years ago, but then it soon metastasized to her bones and lungs.
Sometimes, like now, she trembles because her bones hurt too much to sit up straight even if she’s pumped full of meds.
“Rest, Dusha moya. I’ll ask the doctor for painkillers.”
“I’m fine.” The pain in my side dulls upon witnessing her state. “Mama?”
“Yes?”
“How long have I been out?”
“About two days. You lost a lot of blood and had a fever. We were so worried.”
“Did anyone come to visit me? Or maybe try to?”
I don’t believe Vaughn abandoned me. Dad was just saying that to fit his agenda about declaring war on the Morozovs.
There’s no way Vaughn went through all of that to help me just to leave me to die.
Not to mention the whole attack is suspicious as fuck.
“Cyrus came by,” Mom says. “He should be around here somewhere.”
“No one else?”
She pauses, then releases a breath. “No.”
My heart falls, even as I try not to be affected. It’s not like I expect Vaughn to come all the way to a hostile territory in Chicago.
I mean, I would do that if the roles were reversed, but I obviously have some screws loose.
“Dusha moya…” Her voice is low and brittle, and I can barely see her through the blurriness in my eyes. “Cyrus mentioned that you were abandoned with Vaughn before they found you.”
“Yeah.”
So okay, I might have blabbered about Vaughn when I called my mom during the summer camp. I only mentioned him a few times.
Fine, I talked about him every time I called her. Sue me.
She’s my confidant, along with Cyrus. I tell her all about my crushes and sexual adventures, and she just shakes her head at my shenanigans.
Not that there was anything sexual with Vaughn, but still.
Her lips part before she purses them. “What happened in that cave?”
“I kissed him, Mama,” I blurt out. “I kissed a guy for the first time, and I want to do it again. Isn’t that crazy?”
“You can’t do that again.” She raises her voice, something she’s never done before. Ever. I think it’s the fever that’s making it sound heightened. “You simply can’t, Yulian, promise me.”
“But…”
“No buts. We’re a traditional family, and we don’t do any same-sex relationships, do you understand?”
I blink at her, my chest constricting. “It’s not that I want a relationship…”
“Good, because you’re expected to get married to a woman and have kids. Just like your father.”
“And treat my wife and children like shit just like him as well? Leave a trail of bastards who’ll attempt to kill each other while I’m at it, right? Should I torment them all and sleep with every available woman while being proud that I’m a strong man?”
She raises her trembling hand and slaps me. It’s not hard, but it’s the first time she’s ever hit me.
My heart shatters, mouth hanging open as the shock settles in my bones.
Mom seems just as shocked. Her body trembles before she breaks into sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry…”
“Mama…” I try to sit up and reach for her, and she pulls me to her. The strong stench of antiseptic overpowers the floral perfume she wears.
I feel bones beneath my hands as she cries in my neck.
“Please, Dusha moya, please, I’m begging you. Erase that boy from your head, yes? You were fine sleeping around with girls, so just continue to do that. Take it as your mother’s dying wish.”
“You’re not dying, Mama…”
“Take it as if I am. If…if it’s found out you like men, your father will kill you and use your sister as a pawn. And without you around, no one can protect her. Please…please just…just stay away from that boy. I will not rest in peace if you don’t.”
“Okay…” I stroke her hair as she hyperventilates in my arms. “Okay…just don’t cry, Mama. I hate it when you cry.”
She pulls back to look at me through an overflow of tears and emotions and a woman who looks so tired of everything.
Why did the universe have to take my mother? Why didn’t it take Dad? Cancer should’ve hit him, not her. Why do people like him get to live while kind, selfless people like Mama have to suffer so badly?
Just why?
She strokes my hair, her fingers shaking. “Promise me you’ll marry a girl and have kids.”
“I’m too young for that.”
“Promise me.”
“Okay, promise.”
Fresh tears swell in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Dusha moya, so sorry.”
“For what?”
“For birthing you into this world. I wish I could support your preferences, but I can’t. It’s impossible for families like ours. Even if your father accepts it, which he never will since he’s too traditional, his entourage will kill you and him to set an example. You know that, right?”
I nod once.
Because I do know that. Slowly, reality slams into me like an explosion.
Truth is, my unconventional attraction could and would be fatal for me and the two people I love the most—Mama and Alya.
And yet as Mama hugs me again, all I can think of is my lips on Vaughn’s.
I have to—no, I need to see him again.
Even if it’s just one final time.
For closure.