Chapter 39
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
DINARA
The screens glow in the small office tucked at the far end of the penthouse’s east wing, lines of code cascading down in bright green against black backgrounds. My command center is finally operational.
It took most of the morning to set up. The equipment Maurice delivered is top-tier and I’ve configured the dual Xeon processors to run parallel pattern recognition algorithms, set up the RAID arrays for redundancy, and initialized the GPUs to handle the heavy computational lifting.
Now I’m running a deep packet analysis script, reconstructing the Ghost’s intrusion into the Baronov communication systems. The code scrolls across my screens, parsing through terabytes of network traffic, looking for the signature of whoever hijacked their encrypted channels during their last operation.
The script will take at least three hours to complete its first pass, which means I have time to call my father, something I’ve been avoiding, not wanting to lie to him as I’ll have to.
Down the hall, Kirill’s voice filters through his office door. His tone is clipped as he strategizes with his brothers, dissecting the hit at Rosa’s.
There’s no logic attacking in broad daylight. It also breaks the Ghost’s usual pattern. The only silver lining is the location; the street is lined with cameras, and if the Ghost finally left a trail, they’ll find it.
Taking a breath, my attention shifts from my screens to the phone Kirill gave me earlier. I dial one of the few numbers I know by heart.
My father sounds cautious when he answers the phone. “Who is this?”
“It’s me, Papa. Don’t worry. I’m calling you from a new phone.”
His tone warms instantly. “Dinochka. What a nice surprise.”
The familiar way he says my name nearly undoes me.
“How are you?” I ask, forcing a casual tone.
“Better now that I hear your voice. But you usually call on Sundays. And what is this number?”
“I know, I just … lost my phone, so I had to buy a prepaid in the meantime. I wanted to let you know in case you tried calling me.”
“That’s why you didn’t answer our group text messages. I was getting a little worried. How did you lose it?”
“It’s silly. I was running errands, left it on the subway. I canceled the plan right away, so it’s not a big deal, but I haven’t had time to get a replacement yet.”
He sighs. “Busy as usual. Are you taking care of yourself? Eating properly? Sleeping normal hours, not those crazy hacker hours you keep?”
“I’m doing fine, I promise. That’s kind of why I’m calling. The next few weeks are going to be intense. Final exams, presentations, the whole thing. So if you don’t hear from me as regularly, don’t worry. I’m just buried in work.”
My throat is tight. Lying to him feels like betraying everything he taught me.
“I understand,” he grumbles. “School is important, but it’s not everything. I know what a hard worker you are but you’re young. I hope you’re leaving time to enjoy yourself too.”
“I am, or at least I will after this busy period.” I blink away the tears threatening to fall and change the subject. “How are you? How’s everyone?”
“Everyone is well. Pavel and Hope are in full party planning mode, a second wedding. Pavel is driving us nuts. He wants a huge, elaborate affair while Hope wants something simple. She actually suggested getting married barefoot on a beach.”
Despite everything, I smile. “Pavel would rather die than get married barefoot. But maybe Hope can talk him into something a little more low-key.”
“She’s doing her best. And Kin is already asking when Auntie Dinara is coming home. He misses you.”
Guilt twists in my chest. “I miss him too. Tell him I’ll bring him something special from New York.”
“That’s what we messaged you about—a trip to New York for Christmas. Kin is dead set on capturing a Ninja Turtle. I don’t have the heart to tell him they aren’t real.”
I swallow hard. God, I miss him. Miss having tea together or playing chess late into the night. I haven’t let myself feel homesick since I’ve been here, but now it all crashes over me at once and I have to hold back the tears.
“I’d love that. Really. When everything calms down, let’s talk about it.”
Papa must hear something in my voice, that shift that gives away more than words ever could. “You sound sad. Are you homesick? Working too hard?”
“I’m okay. Just tired.” I swallow over the lump in my throat. “And I miss you. Is that allowed?”
“Of course. I miss you too. Every day.” A pause, weighted with concern. “You know I’ll be on the first plane out if you need me.”
“I know and I appreciate that but it’s not necessary. I just … I feel so lucky that you’re my father.”
A soft sound escapes him. “And I’m so proud of you, dorogaya moya . I hope you know that. Take care of yourself.”
“I will, I promise.” The question rises before I can stop it. “Papa, can I ask you something? About Mama?”
The silence that follows feels heavy.
“Of course,” he says carefully. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you ever try to find her?” My fingers grip the phone until it hurts. “After she left, did you look for her?”
“I looked for years, Dinara. I went to St. Petersburg twice, hired an investigator, and spent money we couldn’t spare. I followed every lead I could, but nothing.” Frustration bleeds through his voice. “Sonya, the woman I married—that woman didn’t exist.”
A cold weight anchors itself behind my ribs. “I’m sorry, Papa,” is all I can manage to say.
“After two years of searching, I let it go.” His voice drops. “I had you to think about. A little girl who needed her father to be present, not chasing ghosts across Russia.”
Tears blur my vision and I try to swallow the sounds rising in my throat. I’m sure this is hard enough for him.
“I’m sorry I never told you. I didn’t want to open up an old wound.”
“But what if she didn’t leave because she wanted to?” The words burst out of me, but they need to be said. “What if something happened to her?”
The pause that follows is loaded.
“Dinara,” he says sadly. “What’s going on? Why are you asking about this now?”
My pulse spikes. I could tell him everything. About the dreams, the repressed memories, the cathedral dome tattoos. About Marina Voronina and the Kupola Network.
But what if I’m wrong? He’s happy again. After years of grief and darkness, Hope and Kin brought light back into his life. And here I am, thousands of miles away, playing a game that could destroy everything.
“Nothing, Papa. I’m sorry.” I force my voice steady. “I think I’m just stressed and overthinking. You know how I get when I’m tired, my brain spirals.”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t respond immediately. “If something’s wrong,” he says at last, “you need to tell me.”
“I know. And I promise, I’m fine. Just missing home.”
“We miss you too, princess. Call me when you can, okay? Even if it’s just to say hello. I like hearing your voice.”
“I will. I love you, Papa.”
“I love you too, Dinochka. More than you know.”
I end the call. The weight of everything presses down on me. Wiping my eyes, I stare down at the phone in my hands.
“Dinara?”
I turn to find Kirill in the doorway, his face creased in concern.
“What happened? Why are you crying?”
He sits beside me and pulls me into his arms. I go willingly, burying my face in his chest.
“I just talked to my father.”
His hand strokes my hair, the other wrapping securely around my waist. “Tell me.”
So I do. The whole conversation pours out. Asking about my mother, learning he searched for years and found nothing, the fake identity and dead ends. How I wanted to tell him the truth but couldn’t, not without proof.
He pulls back to look at me, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “Your father is stronger than you think. And the truth, however brutal, is better than living a lie. Trust me on that.”
There’s something in his voice, something weighted with his own pain. His own father’s lies.
“When we find out what happened to your mother, we’ll tell him together. You won’t have to do this alone. I’ll be there.”
My chest aches with a feeling too big to name. “Why would you do that?”
His mouth curves, sad and tender. “Because you’re my wife. And because you deserve someone in your corner.”
My heart stumbles. When he says things like that, I start believing in a future I shouldn’t.
He kisses my forehead and stands, pulling me up with him.
“Come on, there’s someone you need to meet.”