Chapter Thirty-six
Alessia
Finding a job had become impossible. Every path I tried seemed to slam shut in my face. If Rodion hadn’t happened, I could have been working in an accounting office. But now, even getting an interview felt like chasing smoke.
Scrolling through old emails, I ached to see the interview I had missed months ago. A bitter laugh caught in my throat. I skipped it because of Rodion. My world had crashed into his and never recovered. A part of me was grateful I met him, yet the cost was my career, left to rot in the background.
Grateful but uncertain. Were we anything or just temporary? He vanished for two days without a word. If we meant anything, wouldn’t I have crossed his mind? Wouldn’t he care enough to check if I was still alive?
I needed to talk to someone before I lost my mind.
Clara curled up in bed, lost in Carina’s book she’d borrowed from me.
We were friends, but not enough for confessions.
Across the room, Mara was scrubbing off her makeup after she returned from serving Rodion’s relatives.
We barely exchanged greetings, let alone secrets.
As for the rest of the girls? Strangers.
I reached for my phone. Carina had been ignoring me, but she was still the only lifeline I had. Trapped in this mansion, I wasn’t working anymore. The staff treated me differently now, as if I no longer belonged among them.
Halfway through typing a message, I noticed Mara shifting, her brush slipping from her hand. She was staring at the doorway, her face drained of color. Clara got out of bed and stood, clutching her pajamas.
I looked at the door, and seeing Rodion startled me as well. He stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets, and his eyes on me. My heart tripped as I slid off the bed.
“Boss,” Clara whispered, her voice taut with fear.
Rodion stepped inside, and I tugged at the hem of my shorts, torn between stepping back and standing still. He stopped right in front of me.
“Hi?” The word escaped me.
His cologne mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes wrapped around me. He studied me in silence for a long beat before speaking. “Dress warmly.”
“Sorry?” I blinked at him.
Behind him, the door closed with a heavy thud. Clara and Mara had slipped out, leaving us. “Are we going somewhere?” I asked.
“Yes, you need a jacket,” he said, his tone leaving no room for questions.
“Oh. Okay.” My voice wavered. I grabbed my jacket from the wardrobe and picked up my phone. When I turned, he was still watching. “Are you even allowed in the girls’ quarters?” I asked, half-teasing.
His eyes narrowed, a flicker of amusement breaking across his face. “I am not?”
“You…” I chuckled. “Never mind.” It was his house, after all.
He stepped closer and zipped my jacket. “If you had stayed in my quarters, I would not have had to come looking for you.”
Looking up at him, my breath caught. I had missed this man. “I can’t sleep there.”
“Why not?”
“Because your relatives are around. You were gone. If they had found me there, what would I have told them?”
He held my gaze as if deciding the best response to give.
Instead, he took my hand and led me to the door.
I tried to pull away when I saw Clara and Mara lingering outside, yet his grip only tightened.
My pulse quickened. Not only because he was back, but because he was making it public. Everyone in this house would see us.
For the last two days, I tried to stay invisible, keeping my head down.
His grandmother, Madam Regina, had arrived.
I saw her once, standing outside while Rodion fought his brother, Roman.
Roman’s name traveled through the halls.
I caught only a glimpse of him once, as he slid into a sleek black car, and then he too disappeared.
More relatives kept arriving, some from Russia and others from corners of the world, stitched together by blood and power.
Rodion led me down the hushed corridor. Most of the household had gone to bed, leaving only the staff moving as they cleaned up after dinner. Some workers paused, their gazes flicking to where Rodion held my hand. He held me as if making a statement.
We stepped out of the mansion. The guards at the gate bowed in respect as we passed.
“Where are we going?” I asked, though I didn’t care. Anywhere beyond those walls felt like freedom.
“Taking a walk.” His voice was low.
Our steps fell into rhythm on the pavement, the night wrapping around us. I slipped my free hand into my pocket and smiled. This action was simple and human, and it’s all that I needed.
“You’re sweating,” he said.
I pulled my hand free, wiping it against my coat. “I was nervous back there.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t expect you to show up.” He did not take my hand again, so I shoved it into my pocket. “You disappeared.”
“Work,” he replied, like that one word should explain everything.
I nodded, watching the headlights of a car sweep past. Sprawling mansions lined the street, each one heavy with power and wealth.
“How are you?” Rodion asked, and I almost laughed. The question sounded simple, but the truth weighed too much. I had not been okay until he returned. At one point, I even feared breathing, afraid they would summon me to answer about Renat’s death.
“I can breathe now,” I breathed. “When you left, I barely stepped out of the dorms.”
His profile caught the glow of the streetlights as he glanced down at me. “Didn’t I tell you that you would be safe there?”
“Well, your relatives are everywhere. What if they knew I was part of the mess with Renat?”
“You think they don’t know?”
My heart lurched. “They do?” He stayed silent. “Renat was your half-brother. That means they can do anything.”
He chuckled, and I lifted my gaze to him.
“It’s not funny,” I muttered, looking ahead. “I thought about going home, but I knew you wouldn’t let me. And speaking of home, can I visit my parents tomorrow? Something feels off.”
“How so?”
I sighed. “My parents keep brushing me off.” Rodion drew my hand from my pocket and laced his fingers with mine. Warmth slid down my spine. “When I call, Mamma says she’s busy.” My chest tightened. “And Carina is suddenly too busy for me too. Something isn’t right.”
Rodion said nothing.
“Do you think they’re okay?” I asked, searching his face.
“They should be.”
The way he said it unsettled me, but I clung to the trust I had in him. “I don’t like how they’re treating me. I assumed the worst.”
“Did you speak to your father?”
“Yes. I called him today, and he only said we’d talk later, that he was handling something. It reminded me of how they used to fight. Back then, I felt so alone, and I would run to Carina. Now even she’s distant.” My thoughts raced. “Maybe I did something wrong,” I murmured.
His thumb brushed over my knuckles. “You didn’t. Renat did.”
I snapped my head up. “Renat?”
“Before I killed him, he attacked your parents and shot your father. But he should be healing.”
I stopped walking, and so did he. His words detonated in my chest. “What?” I yanked my hand free, as if his touch blocked me from thinking straight. “Wait, Papa was shot?”
“He is fine.”
“No,” I scoffed, running a hand through my hair. “Don’t do that. That was almost a week ago, and I’m just hearing about it now? You’re telling me this now?”
Rodion placed his hands on my shoulders and rubbed me. “It wasn’t something to worry you.”
“No, wait.” I stepped back. “My father was shot, and you’re telling me like it’s nothing? Like, I shouldn’t feel anything just because you said he’s fine? No wonder everyone’s been avoiding me.”
I fumbled for my phone and dialed my father’s number.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling my father.”
Rodion took the phone from my hand and ended the call. “He is fine.”
Anger seared through me. “I need to talk to him.”
“I said he is fine.”
“He is my father.” My voice broke, rising toward a scream. “And right now I’m trying not to lose it, so give me the phone.”
He didn’t move. His silence weighed more than shouting. I hated how he controlled everything, how it had to bend his way.
“I don’t like this,” I hissed. “I hate that you’re telling me now and that everyone is hiding it while I’m left worried sick, wondering what I did wrong.”
My breath shuddered.
“This feels the same,” I whispered. “When my parents fought every night, they never thought about what it did to me. And now it’s the same.
You, Carina, them—you treat me like a child.
I’m twenty-four. I deserved to know.” Tears blurred my vision.
Maybe I was crying because if Papa had died, if he’d been critical, they’d have told me only when it was too late.
“I don’t like it,” I whispered again, turning away. If my outburst angered him, good. Let him be the Rodion everyone feared.
His voice dropped. “Have you ever asked them?”
I frowned, still facing away. “Ask them what?”
“Why would they fight?”
“Does it matter? Would they have told me? They’re hiding this now, just like they always did.”
Rodion stepped close, one arm sliding around my waist. He drew me against his chest and leaned into my ear. “You need to learn to ask.”
“That’s what I was doing before you took the phone.”
“You kept quiet when they were fighting.” His lips brushed my ear. “And now, you suspect something is off, but did you ask?”
I never had. And if I did, would they have answered?
“Sometimes they need what you have shown me.” His teeth grazed my earlobe, making me tense. “You are cute when you yell, you know that?”
“This isn’t helping. I’m still mad.”
“I know.” His mouth traced along my jawline, unbothered.
“They should have told me. You should have told me.”
He chuckled. “Sometimes anger is necessary. It reminds them you are not a child.”
Silence weighed between us. The truth was, I had always been afraid to know why they fought. Afraid they would tell me the love I had believed in was gone. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter, to run to Carina and hide.
“What if Papa was cheating? What if it were another woman tearing them apart? Mamma doesn’t deserve that. I couldn’t take it.”
“Little Gem, women cheat too.”
I shook my head. “Not Mamma.”
“I told you before. Your mother is the problem.”
My heart sank. His words scraped at old memories of him hinting that my mother carried secrets.
“What do you mean?” My voice cracked. “Don’t tell me to ask them. I can’t take it anymore. You know something. Tell me.”
Rodion’s hands slid down my arms. “Fine. I will take you tomorrow.”
“Rodion,” I gripped his shirt, desperation rising. “Don’t make me hate this night.”
He smiled, amused, as if he had every right to decide how much truth I could handle. His gaze fell to my grip before he tilted my chin, thumb brushing my lower lip.
“Your mother loved your father. That is why she abandoned her first child at an orphanage and moved here to marry him.”
The words hit me like a foreign tongue. “What does that even mean?”
He chuckled, brushed a kiss against my lips, and whispered. “Your father found out about the child. That’s why they fought.”
A child? An orphanage? My mind spun. “I don’t understand. Are you saying—”
“You have a brother.”
I stared at him, disbelief clashing with dread. My hand slipped from his shirt, and a laugh tore out. I shook my head. “You’re drunk. You killed your half-brother, and now you’re imagining mine. That’s ridiculous.”
But my smile faltered. Deep down, I knew Rodion. He didn’t make jokes like this. My stomach knotted as fear crept in.
“No,” I whispered.
“Not to worry,” he said. “He is a grown man now.”
“No. Mamma would never. I mean, she…”
“Hey.” Rodion cupped my face, his eyes searching mine. “It doesn’t change anything.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t change anything? You expect me to smile after you drop something like this?”
“So you want to cry?” I struck his chest with my fist, but he pulled me against him, wrapping me in his arms. “You are an adult,” he murmured.
“I don’t like how you think I should take it.”
“I like how you are taking it,” he whispered, holding me closer.
“How long have you known this?”
His silence stretched before he answered. “You don’t wish to know.”