Chapter 32 #2
Same pattern—apology up front, saying he'd made mistakes, that he was working at a factory now for shit pay and owed loan sharks. He said he missed his sister and wanted to see her, then pivoted to asking if Hazel could lend him some money, promising he'd definitely pay it back.
What a complete piece of shit. And he had the nerve to ask for forgiveness.
This asshole who stole from my house, who treated his own sister like an ATM, had the audacity to write asking for money.
If he had any brains at all, he'd have gotten the hell out of town.
Because if he wasn't Hazel's brother, I'd have killed him already.
Hazel finished reading and slowly set the letter on the nightstand.
"I didn't want to give it to you," I said. "Family like that is worthless. But... I promised I wouldn't lie to you anymore. No more hiding things."
Hazel was quiet for a long time.
"I'm going to see them," she finally said. "But maybe it'll be the last time."
"Are you sure?" I frowned. "Hazel, I don't think even a last visit is necessary. They don't deserve—"
"I want to go," Hazel interrupted. "Not for them. For me. I need closure."
She turned to look at Sofia sleeping in the bassinet, and a bitter smile crossed her face.
"Don't worry," she said quietly. "I won't let them hurt me anymore."
But her voice was shaking. She said she didn't care, didn't hurt, but her voice gave her away.
"I used to think my brother and mother loved me," Hazel said, her voice trembling. "I thought our family was just poor, but that we still loved each other."
Hazel took a deep breath.
"But now that I've really experienced love, now that I'm a mother myself, I finally understand..."
She looked at Sofia sleeping in the bassinet.
"They never loved me at all."
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
"I would never curse at my child," Hazel said, every word deliberate. "I would never hit her for making a small mistake. I would never tell her to her face that she's worthless, a burden, a useless fat girl."
Her voice grew more choked.
"I would never pressure her to marry some rich boyfriend just to get money. I would never blame her when she got hurt, telling her it was all her fault."
She stared at Sofia in the bassinet.
"How could I ever do those things to Sofia? But those things... that was my normal. Every day."
Hazel turned to look at me, tears flooding out like a dam had broken.
"So now I understand... I was never loved by my family."
I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled Hazel into my arms and held her tight.
"God," I said, my voice rough with pain. "You went through all of that."
"It's over now," Hazel said against my shoulder. "It's all over."
I held her close, feeling her body shake.
I knew Hazel came from a poor family. I knew from the investigation reports that her mother was an alcoholic and her brother gambled. But I'd never really thought about what that meant.
I'd never imagined what growing up in that environment had been like.
Abused by her own mother. Exploited by her own brother. Looked down on by everyone.
She should've become bitter, cold, full of rage.
But she didn't.
She stayed kind. Stayed gentle. Still believed in love.
"You're incredibly strong," I said, stroking her back. "Braver than anyone I've ever met."
Hazel pulled back and wiped her tears. She forced a smile. "You're exaggerating. Viktor, you've been praising me way too much lately."
"Because you deserve every bit of praise in the world," I said seriously.
Hazel leaned against my shoulder, her tears gradually stopping.
After a while, she suddenly changed the subject. "What about your childhood? Growing up in a mafia family must have been pretty different, right?"
I gave a bitter smile.
"Different? You could say that."
I let go of her and leaned back in the chair.
"My mother died when I was five," I said flatly. "My father was... an incredibly harsh and brutal man. With nothing but the gun in his hand, he built the Gromov family's empire from scratch. He ruled this city's underworld with absolute iron-fisted control."
"Anya told me about him," Hazel said softly. "She said he was an amazing legend."
"Yes, he was a real hard-ass. But he was busy," I sighed. "Incredibly busy. When I was little, I'd go weeks without seeing him."
I closed my eyes, those cold memories flooding back.
"And when I did see him, all I ever got was harsh criticism. My grades weren't good enough. My moving target scores weren't accurate enough. I got knocked down by my instructor during combat training—no matter what I achieved, in his critical eyes, it was never good enough."
"I pushed myself with everything I had, desperate to prove myself to him. I trained like crazy, studied gang management obsessively. At fifteen I was following him to interrogation rooms to deal with traitors. At eighteen I was independently managing a violent territory."
My voice went hoarse without me realizing it.
"But he never once praised me. He never even gave me an approving look. He'd just nod coldly and throw me the next dangerous assignment."
"When I was twenty-three, he suddenly got severely ill. The doctors said there was no cure. Before he died, he called me to his bedside. Final moments—I thought he'd tell me he loved me, or that he was proud of me deep down."
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.
"But he just looked at me and said one last thing. 'Don't disgrace the Gromov name.' Then he died."
The hospital room fell silent as death.
"He loved me," I broke the silence. "Deep down, I know he loved me. But he refused to express it his entire life. He believed showing emotion was weakness. He thought a real man, a real mafia boss, shouldn't have feelings—they were just a burden."
"So under his influence, I became completely used to that cold-blooded life too."
I turned to look at Sofia breathing steadily in her bassinet.
"I failed Anya terribly," I admitted quietly.
"After her mother died, I just dumped her on a bunch of paid nannies.
I was too busy expanding and consolidating the family.
I rarely spent time with her, rarely had real conversations with her.
I arrogantly assumed that as long as I gave her the best material life in the world and the tightest security, I'd done my job as a father. "
"But it wasn't enough," Hazel said softly.
"No. I understand now, painfully, that it was nowhere near enough."
Hazel reached out and squeezed my hand tight.
"You still have a chance to change," Hazel said, her gaze firm. "Viktor, we both still have a chance to change everything."
I looked at Hazel, then back at Sofia.
"I'm going to be a real father to this child," I swore, every word deliberate. "I'll tell her I love her out loud. I'll be there as she grows up. I'll attend every birthday party, watch every school performance."
"I will not repeat the damn mistakes my father made."
"You're going to be an amazing father," Hazel said gently. "I have no doubt."
I bent down and kissed Hazel's forehead deeply, then pulled her back into my arms and held her tight.