41. Sophia
FORTY-ONE
SOPHIA
M axim’s breathing quickens, just slightly—but I notice. Jenny doesn’t seem to realize how deeply her words are cutting him, but I know him too well. He’s close to snapping.
“Let’s go back to the beginning, Jenny,” I interject, shifting her focus to me. “How did you find out Isaak is your real father?”
Jenny’s head tilts, a cruel smirk tugging at her lips before she answers. “I followed Mom here, to this very place.” She gestures broadly to the room, her voice calm, almost reflective.
My stomach twists as dread floods my veins. I already know where this is going.
“I started noticing Mom would leave the house at the same time, on the same day, every week. It made me curious, so while Dad and you were watching a movie, I followed her.”
My breath catches in my throat.
“Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d see what I saw that day. Mom walking hand in hand into a sleazy hotel with a strange man.” Her voice wavers slightly, but she continues. “I debated what to do for a long time. I thought maybe it was just a lapse in judgment. A one-time mistake. So I waited and followed her again the next week. And the next.”
She stops, her eyes distant and glossy. “It wasn’t a mistake. Same time. Same man. Every week.”
Tears burn my eyes as my heart shatters. Until now, I clung to the hope Jenny was lying, that her claims about Mom and Dad weren’t true. But seeing her broken expression, the pain bleeding through her words—I know.
Mom cheated on Dad.
Jenny laughs bitterly, snapping me back to the moment. “That night, I waited for her to come home and confronted her. She admitted everything. Told me she’d been having an affair with that man for years.” Her voice cracks, and she shakes her head, as if trying to dispel the memory. “I was so angry. So lost. I felt betrayed. I told her I’d tell Dad if she didn’t stop. She swore she would, but I knew better. The way she looked at him…”
Her voice trails off, and I stay silent. There’s so much I want to ask—what age she found out, what else Mom said—but I don’t dare interrupt. If I do, she might stop talking.
“For months, I couldn’t shake the idea that Dad wasn’t my real father,” she finally continues. “It ate at me. So I did what I had to do. I ordered a paternity test.” Her gaze sharpens, locking onto me. “I stole samples of his DNA and mine, sent them to a lab, and waited. It took weeks to get the results and even longer for me to find the courage to open them.”
Her dry chuckle sends chills down my spine. “When I finally read the results and saw the words ‘no match’, it just…confirmed what I already knew deep down. I wasn’t his daughter. And suddenly, so many things made sense. The way he treated me—cold, distant, like I wasn’t even there. He knew I wasn’t his.”
Jenny gets up and starts pacing, energy rolling off her in waves. “For years—years—before I found out, I hated you for being his favorite, for getting all his attention while I got nothing. But after I learned the truth, I hated you even more.”
She stops abruptly, closing the distance between us in a few quick steps. Her hands clamp down on the arms of my chair, her face inches from mine.
“You hated me for something I had no control over?” I scoff, meeting her glare head-on. “You made my fucking life miserable because Mom cheated on Dad?”
“You’ll never understand,” she spits. “You’ve never been alone. You’ve never felt empty.”
“That’s bullshit!” I yell, the words exploding out of me. “That’s fucking bullshit! You act like Dad was around all the time, showering me with attention. He wasn’t, Jenny. He was barely there! Maybe one day a week, for a few hours, if that. He was always working.”
Her lips part, but I don’t let her interrupt.
“You know who was always there? Mom. And you. Together. You two were inseparable. Always going on lunch dates and shopping trips, always leaving me out. You both treated me like garbage, always mocking me for being too fat, not skinny enough to be like you.”
My voice cracks, but I push through the lump in my throat. “I’m sorry Dad wasn’t there for you. Maybe he saw how horribly you and Mom treated me and decided I deserved at least one person in my corner.”
Thinking about what she said, a bitter realization crashes over me. Maybe Mom was always backing Jenny up because she felt guilty. It doesn’t excuse her actions, but it explains why she made my life a living hell. She must have seen how much Jenny hated me and used me as a scapegoat to ease her own guilt.
Jenny snorts, snapping me back to the moment. “Stop being so dramatic, Sophia. You make it sound like your childhood was unbearable. We weren’t that bad. Mom only treated you that way when I was around to help with her guilt. I’m sure behind my back, she coddled you.”
I scoff, disbelief rising in my chest. “You really are delusional if you think Mom coddled me.” I shake my head. “Her head was so far up your ass, she didn’t have time for a single real conversation with me. The most I ever got was a list of chores. That was it. I used to joke I was the Cuban Cinderella.” I let out a bitter laugh. “But you wouldn’t know, would you?”
She narrows her eyes at me, but I press on, my words pouring out like they’ve been bottled up for years.
“You have no idea what it’s like to not have your parents’ affection, Jenny. You don’t know what it feels like to be alone, to feel like you don’t matter. You may not have had Dad’s attention, but what he didn’t give you, Mom more than made up for. All I got were scraps from her and some pathetic crumbs of attention from Dad.” I pause, my chest tightening as I see her eyes soften for a split second. “And on top of that, there was you—your constant bullying, your boyfriend, your friends—the family. If anyone has the right to be angry, it’s me. Not you.” I feel the tears welling up but force myself to hold them back. This isn’t the time for weakness.
“I’m sorry the father you thought was yours wasn’t. I’m sorry you didn’t have a relationship with your real father. But that’s not an excuse to take it all out on me,” I snap, the anger flowing freely now.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Maxim moving his hands, desperately struggling against the ropes. He’s trying to break free. I can’t see exactly what he’s using—maybe a knife? I don’t know. But I continue to talk, keeping Jenny’s attention on me. This is the only chance I have to finally say everything I’ve kept inside for so long.
“I did nothing to you, Jenny. When we were younger, I looked up to you,” I say, my voice shaking with the weight of the confession. “But you had to tear me down, didn’t you? You had to hate me. You pulled away from me, and then you had someone kidnap me.”
Her eyes widen, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. I don’t give her a chance to respond.
“Do you have any idea what they did to me, Jennifer?” My voice is sharp now, cutting through the tension like a knife.
She stares at me, her lips parted in shock, but no words come out.
“They tried to rape me, Jenny.” My chest tightens at the words, but I force them out. I want her to understand what her actions did, what her choices led to.
Jenny’s face goes pale. She blinks rapidly, her eyes searching mine, as if trying to process the enormity of what I just said.
“I—I didn’t know,” she stammers, her voice cracking.
“You didn’t know? You hired them to kidnap me. What did you think was going to happen?” I’m practically shaking with the force of my anger now. “Did you honestly think they would just tie me up and leave me alone? Is that really what you thought?”
She takes a step back, but I don’t let up.
“Of course, they didn’t just follow orders, Jenny. They tried to do things to me. And where were you? Sitting in your fancy little world while I was being tortured. Do you even care?”
Jenny’s face twists with conflicting emotions—regret, guilt, maybe even shame, but I don’t care. I’m done holding back.
“I’m trying to wrap my mind around all of this,” I continue, my voice thick with frustration. “But I still don’t get what you’re hoping to achieve here. You’re not going to take over Maxim’s life. He won’t let that happen.” I lean forward slightly, my eyes locked on hers. “That’s his world, not yours. And those people you think are on your side? They’ll use you until they don’t need you anymore, and then they’ll kill you.”
I see a flicker of something in her eyes—fear, maybe—but she quickly masks it, her face hardening once again.
“You have kids, Jenny,” I add softly, my voice almost pleading now. “You need to stay alive for them. Do you even think about them? Do you realize what you’re doing to their future?”
For a brief moment, her expression falters, the icy veneer she has built around herself cracking. But then, just as quickly, it snaps back into place.
“I am doing this for my kids!” she snaps, her voice filled with sudden fury. “They’re the only ones who matter now. Not you. Not Maxim. Just them.”
I shake my head, disbelieving. “You think they’ll be safe in that world? You think they’re better off with you dragging them into this mess?”
Her eyes widen, a split second of vulnerability crossing her face before she blurts out, “You think they’re safe now?”
My breath catches in my chest. “What do you mean by that?” I whisper, my mind racing. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She opens her mouth to say something but freezes as Maxim suddenly appears behind her, his hand clamping over her mouth, his gun pressed firmly to her temple. His presence is like a wall of ice.
“Where are the men you supposedly have under your control, big sister?” Maxim growls, his voice like gravel. He looks around the room with a mock smile. “Where are they? Show me.” His tone is dripping with contempt as he adds, “You’re in my world now, Jennifer.”
Jenny stiffens, but Maxim doesn’t let up. He drags her backward out of the circle of light, his grip unyielding.
“Maxim!” I scream, my heart racing. “Stop. Let her go.”
His head swivels to meet my gaze, his expression a mixture of disbelief and anger.
“I need answers,” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “Please. Don’t make this worse.”
Maxim hesitates for a moment, but his eyes never leave me. I can see the battle in his mind, the conflict between his anger and his trust in me. Finally, he relaxes his grip on Jenny, but just barely.
“Let me keep talking to her, Maxim,” I plead, urgency in my voice. “There’s something more here. I need to understand.”
Jenny’s eyes are wild now, a flicker of panic flashing across her face, but I can’t stop. Not now. I need to know the truth.
“Sophia—”
“Maxim, please,” I cut him off, my voice trembling with frustration, a mix of desperation and weariness.
“No,” he growls, his tone hard and final. “I’m done watching you bleed out in front of her. Done. No more talking to her.”
My chest tightens, my breath shallow as I fight the overwhelming urge to scream. “I’ll be done talking to her when I feel like it!” I snap, a sharp bitterness creeping into my voice. I’m too far gone to care about his protectiveness right now.
“Oh, oh, did Maxi get in trouble?” A mocking voice breaks the tension, and I turn to see Luca standing nonchalantly, a sinister grin on his face. He’s leaning against the wall, his hand tucked casually in his pocket like he hasn’t just killed someone. I follow his gaze to the body of a guard lying on the floor, a bullet in his forehead. When did that happen? How the hell did Luca have time to do this—and more importantly, when the hell did he wake up?
“Be a good boy, Maxi. If not, Sophia might just put you back in the doghouse,” Luca teases, enjoying every bit of this.
I can’t stop the small, bitter laugh that escapes me, the absurdity of it all breaking through. “Would you two fucking behave?” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
Maxim’s shoulders tightened, and his jaw clenched so hard, I’m afraid it might crack. “You’re both insufferable,” he growls, his voice thick with fury. He murmurs something under his breath—probably a curse aimed at Luca. “I’m going to kill him.”
Luca only laughs louder, oblivious to Maxim’s simmering rage. “You love me, Maxi. Admit it,” he grins.
I turn back to Maxim, my anger starting to dissolve into something more tired. Exhausted. Luca always had this way of cutting through the tension between Maxim and me. I can feel my heart hammering in my chest, but it’s not fear. It’s something else—something deeper.
“I understand you don’t want me to keep getting hurt, but there’s so much I need to say to Jenny. So much.” My voice cracks as I try to hold it together. “You can tie her up if it will make it easier for you to not feel like you’re losing control. But this is something I need to do, Maxim. For me.” I can feel the raw ache in my chest as I say the words.
Maxim’s brows furrow deeply, his eyes darkening with frustration. He grits his teeth, but after a long, agonizing silence, he gives in. He ties Jennifer to the chair, his movements sharp and controlled, as though every second is a battle. Then, he turns to untie me. His face is tight and pained, and he gestures toward Jennifer with a flick of his wrist before folding his arms, his expression hardening as if preparing for war.
“This is between me and her. Please,” I beg softly, my voice thick with something I can’t name. “Please wait outside.”
Maxim’s nostrils flare, his eyes flashing with disbelief. “Fuck no. I’m not leaving you alone with her. I won’t do it.”
A sharp, painful sting shoots through me. He doesn’t get it. Not this. Not me. I can’t keep doing this, trying to explain myself. “Maxim.” My voice trembles as I grit my teeth and force the words out, my tone breaking but resolute. “Go outside.”
The tension in the room becomes unbearable. Maxim’s whole body tenses, as if I’ve just delivered a slap to his face. His eyes, dark with frustration, are locked on me—there’s a look in them, something between hurt and rage, and it takes everything in me not to break under the weight of it. But I stand my ground, pushing through the suffocating fear that threatens to swallow me.
The vein in his neck bulges, his jaw clenched in a way that makes me fear he might snap in two. I see the fight in his eyes—the protectiveness, the need to shield me from everything bad. But I can’t have that right now, not with Jenny here. Not with the weight of everything I need to say to her, to my sister.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he exhales sharply and steps back. “You want to do this alone?” His voice is tight, controlled, but there’s no mistaking the hurt there.
“Please,” I whisper. It’s the only word I can manage, but it’s enough.
Jenny looks at me, her eyes raw with unshed tears, but her voice cracks with something far more broken. “It’s okay, Sophia,” she says quietly, her gaze shifting from me to Maxim and then to the walls, as if the place itself might swallow her whole. “He can hear us. He should.”
The words hang there, unspoken but understood. The weight of what’s between us—of what’s been between us for so long—grows heavier with every word she doesn’t say. “This involves him as much as it does me,” she adds, almost like a confession.
I feel a pang deep in my chest. For all the hatred, all the lies and betrayal, she still sees Maxim as a part of this. But it’s not about him anymore. Not entirely.
She turns her head toward Maxim, her voice barely a whisper. “Can we please go somewhere else?” she pleads, her eyes clouded with memories I can’t imagine. “This place has ears.”
Maxim’s opens his mouth to fight Jenny, but I beg hi with my eyes not to. She is clearly tormented. His expression falters. The hard lines of his face soften, just for a moment. He doesn’t say anything, but his gaze flickers between us—between me and her—and then, at last, he nods. He is only agreeing to this because of me.
“Let’s go home,” I say softly, my heart aching at the thought of that word: home.
Maxim looks at me, conflicted, but he doesn’t argue. He steps aside and, for a moment, just stands there, watching me, waiting for something. I don’t know what. But for now, he listens.
I take a deep breath. There’s no going back from this, no easy way to undo the years of damage, of hurt, of all the words left unsaid. But I take Jenny’s hand, and we walk toward whatever comes next. Together.