Chapter 6
Yuliana
My father’s cigar lounge was so overly masculine that perhaps he was compensating for his own insecurities. I hated being in here.
There wasn’t a single thing in this room—or the house for that matter—that said he had a family outside of my mother. A lone framed photo of her sat on the desk, and I stopped to pick it up.
Running my thumb over the glass, memories of my mother surfaced.
We had been so at odds in my teen years, but had found our way and ended up the very best of friends.
In my greatest time of need, she had been there.
She had helped me to sneak off with Eddie and had encouraged me to paint and explore the world.
She had even helped me and Ren escape when staying meant death.
“Please, I don’t know where he went,” the man tied up in the middle of the room blubbered. He’d fallen off the chair when Vlad hit him and was now in the fetal position begging for a life that was already past it’s expiration date.
I placed the frame down in the same position it had been, because some habits never die.
Vlad hauled the man up and dumped him back onto the chair. I slowly walked around the desk. Leaning against the dark wood, I crossed my arms, emotionless as I watched the blood ooze down his face.
This was what time had done to me. After my cancer diagnosis, I realized that I couldn’t die without making sure Ren safe.
What that looked like…I didn’t know, but it had become the singular thought that had consumed me when the chemo had made me wish for death.
Now I was finishing what had been started, so that the Lawrences of the world didn’t show up at her fucking door, as they had mine.
The front door opened, and I looked up from the book I was reading.
It had been two weeks since we got word that my cancer was in remission. To celebrate, Neil went to pick up burgers, fries, and milkshakes from my favorite diner. We were going to binge watch our favorite shows, and eat junk food.
I hadn’t been able to keep anything substantial down during treatment, and even when I could, everything tasted terrible.
I’d ordered Ren to spend some time with Lizzy and get out of the house.
Most of all, I wanted her to stop acting like she was the mother and full-time caregiver and just be a teen for the night.
“I’m in here, Neil.”
My smile fell when he walked around the corner holding the bag of food in one hand while his other hand was in the air. He had a gun pressed to the back of his head.
“I’m so sorry,” Neil said.
Putting my book aside, I slowly stood.
“Hello, Yuliana. It’s been a long time,” Lawrence said as he stepped around Neil, and a dozen armed men fanned out.
My heart pounded hard in my chest at the evil look in his eyes.
“You look…” His gaze traveled up and down my body. “The same. If anything, you’ve grown more beautiful.”
Lawrence’s lip curled, and all the memories that I’d thought were buried and locked away came rushing back.
I glanced out the window, knowing that Mylo was at work, but Vlad was home. I prayed he didn’t try to be a hero and storm in here. They lived one street over, but had video surveillance of the house and anyone who came in and out.
“Lawrence…I wish I could say this was a pleasant surprise,” I said, crossing my arms and pulling the knit sweater tighter around me like armor.
Lawrence smirked and rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb.
“Take him to the kitchen and kill him if he tries anything. I’ll deal with him once I’m done in here,” Lawrence ordered, and four men dragged Neil away.
He wandered the room, staring at our family photos. My stomach flipped when he picked up a picture of Ren and me. The cold look in his eyes made me shake all over, and I’d never been so thankful for her not to be here.
“How did you find me?”
Lawrence smiled like a cat proud of its kill as he moved closer. I held my ground, not giving him the satisfaction of backing down. He’d always been a bully, thriving on intimidation and fear. No matter what he did…I would never give him that.
“I’ve been searching for you for a very long time, Yuli, with no luck.
So, imagine my surprise when I visit Colzan’s family picnic event, and there you are.
Standing with a man that had worked for me for years and your stunning daughter.
You were bathed in a warm summer’s glow, your hair down.
You were wearing this modest sundress, but it did nothing to hide your perfect curves. ”
Reaching out, he ran his fingers down my arm. Bile rose in my throat at the look in his eyes.
“You looked like an angel, and I took it as a sign that we were meant to be. I must say…you’re not an easy woman to track, but I put my best on it…me. I know everything about you and this quaint life you’ve made for yourself. How the mighty have fallen.”
Lawrence stepped in closer, and I turned my face away.
“I’ve been biding my time ever since. I’m a very patient man, Yuli, especially when it comes to you.”
He wrapped his hand around my throat and forced me to look at him. I couldn’t help closing my eyes as he sniffed the side of my neck and ran his nose along my cheek.
“My patience paid off, and here we are, and fuck you smell good,” Lawrence whispered in my ear.
“What do you want,” I asked, fearing that I already knew the answer.
“I want what should’ve been mine, but you were just too stubborn to see it,” he said, pulling back enough so that I could look him in the eyes.
Of everyone searching, I had never dreamed that it would be Lawrence who found me. But as I stared into the cold blue depths of his eyes, I realized that counting him out had been a grave error. He’d always been the biggest threat.
“We’re going to make a little deal.”
“No, I don’t think so,” I said, standing my ground.
“I think you’ll want to hear this and agree, or…”
He fished around in his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. My heart stopped completely as he held up the photo of Ren walking into Lizzy’s house.
“I’ll make sure she disappears tonight, and you’ll never see her again.”
My nostrils flared, the stench of his too-strong cologne choking off my air supply.
“I can see the defiance in you, Yuli, that fire…” he groaned. “I’ve missed it.”
“Leave my daughter alone. I’ll do whatever you want, just leave her,” I said, and he smiled.
“I thought you’d see things my way. But before we talk about specifics, you owe me.”
Lawrence pushed me back, and I landed hard on the couch. I knew what was coming, but the tears still stung as he peeled off his coat and tossed it aside. I jerked as he undid his belt, my lower lip trembling, but I held my head high.
I’d thought that I could run and keep my daughter safe, but that had been a fantasy.
One that would never come true until every single person who had played a role in trying to destroy me or kill my daughter had been buried six feet under.
“Please, I’m begging you,” the man pleaded, pulling me out of the memory. “I have a family. I don’t want to die.”
“I have a family, too, and I’ve died multiple times, but I’m still standing before you.
I am proof of how much a person can endure before they die.
How much do you think you can suffer before you take your last breath?
” I looked at Vlad. “Cut off his fingers one at a time until he gives us something useful.”
Vlad pulled the large hunting knife from the holder on his leg, and the guard screamed.
“Please, all I know is that he took a secret tunnel and ran,” he gasped out. I held up my hand to stop Vlad. “He mentioned something about the jet, but I didn’t hear anything more than that.”
Everyone that we caught had said the same thing. My father had run like a rat in a flooded sewer, but never mentioned his destination to anyone. All we knew was that he’d flown out of the country. In the last ten days, I’d dismantled every branch of my father’s organization and found nothing.
There’d been no word from Dimitri, so he hadn’t taken refuge with him in California.
All of Vadin’s computers had been confiscated, and his accounts that we could find had been wiped so that he couldn’t go far without help.
The question was, who was stupid enough to help him now that his empire had crumbled around him?
Pushing away from the desk, I walked toward the guard. He seemed to believe that his information had been enough to save himself, but that was about to change.
“How long have you worked for Mr. Mikhailov?”
“Six years,” he said. “I swear I would tell you more if I knew anything.”
“Why?”
The question confused him. He opened his mouth to respond and then stopped.
“Why would you tell me?”
“Because…”
“Because what? You don’t know me, do you? So, what is your reason? Why turn against the man who has paid you a salary, kept a roof over your family’s heads, and food on your table? Why offer up information on a man who trusted you in his home for six years?”
I waited for his response, watching him carefully. His eyes flicked around as he thought. He was probably praying for a magical exit to open so he could scurry off into the night.
“Speak up,” I ordered, and he licked his lips.
“Because I don’t want to die.”
Nodding, I turned to leave the room.
“Kill him and dispose of the body with the others.”
“No…no, please don’t do this. Ahh!”
I slammed the door on his screams and passed by the line of guards loyal only to me.
My black boots clicked on the wooden floor as I marched all the way to the other side of the mansion. I took a moment to collect myself before entering my old bedroom. It wasn’t the one from my childhood but the one that I had chosen when I became a prisoner.
All my belongings were covered with white sheets, appearing like ghosts frozen in time—physical representations of my life since the day I married Christov. That was the day I had hit the pause button on my dreams—except for the day Lilya was born.
Walking deeper into the dimly lit room, I stepped up to the window, gazing out at the stable that hadn’t seen a horse in its stalls for years. It was as much of a ghost town as the rest of this mausoleum.
I turned toward the easel and gripped the edge of the covering. The sheet pooled on the floor, revealing the rearing black stallion I had painted so long ago.
Reaching out, I ran my fingers down the strokes of paint while memories and emotions filled me. Some I recognized, others felt foreign, and more were as raw as the day they happened.
Mylo stepped up to the doorway but didn’t say anything or come in as he stared at me.
“Speak.”
“Everything is loaded on the trucks. Weapons, jewels, computers, and your mother’s items as instructed. We found two more hidden safes. They have been cracked, and all contents seized.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t scamper off with them. Must have been in a rush.”
Picking the painting up off the easel, I walked across the room to the rest of my work. The canvases stood in the corner, covered and lost to time.
“Take these as well,” I said, pointing.
Mylo came over and picked up the stack. I left the room with the stallion tucked under my arm. Guards followed like a swarm, the thump of their boots loud as they marched in sequence.
We reached the bottom floor, and I stopped at the open door to the library. This was where I’d fallen in love with Eddie. I smiled at the ghostly memory of us running up and down the stairs until we were out of breath.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I looked up at Vlad. He was a true friend and more loyal than most.
“We only have fifteen minutes before the bombs go off. It’s time to lay the ghosts to rest,” he said softly.
Taking a deep breath, we walked out of the house and into the waiting vehicles. I watched out the rear window and counted down the minutes as we drove away. When the ball of fire rose into the night sky, I wasn’t filled with joy as one might think.
To burn the ghosts of my past, I had to become the flame that consumed them. Every echo of the woman I had been—my tenderness, my longing, my sorrow—was broken down and turned to dust.
I had loved, I had lost, and I had learned that survival was not soft.
It was forged in pain and sharpened by resolve.
I wasn’t happy destroying those who stood in my way, but happiness had never been the goal.
Vadin Mikhailov had taught me one fundamental fact—power was freedom. And I finally held both.
My story began with betrayal, heartbreak, and blood. If I wanted to end that volume, then I had to face my father. Not to forgive him, but to unmake him. Only then could I rise from the ashes of what he had created and call the devastation mine.
And when the last of our enemies lay broken at my feet, I would place the crown upon my daughter’s head—its gold cleansed of sin, its jewels polished until no trace of blood remained.
Life would not be easy, and the weight of legacy would press heavy on her brow.
But at least then, she could reign in a world I had burned clean for her.