41. Alexei #4
“Lately, perhaps,” he says dryly. “Once or twice. But no.” He stares at the water.
“I don’t regret it, Alexei. My daughters owe their lives to you.
We all do, whether I like to admit it or not.
Not just for what you did that day, but for everything you endured before that.
” He turns to face me. “Me being in Miami isn’t about trying to repay that debt,” he says quietly, “because nothing can ever repay what you saved back then. Being here is what family does, Lex. We have each other’s back.
And whether you and I like it or not, we’re family.
We were family before this thing between you and Ofelia, and we still will be, no matter what happens between the two of you in the future.
” He smiles wryly. “Which means that no matter how much I might fucking hate your idea, even I know that it’s better for Mickey to get his hands dirty inside the family than outside it. ”
To my surprise, he puts his hand out.
After a moment’s hesitation, I take it.
“But since we’re family,” he goes on, “and since you told me once that you would ask my forgiveness, but not my permission—let me tell you what I am, and am not, able to forgive when it comes to my daughter.”
Ah, fuck, I think as he releases my hand. Here it comes.
“I should warn you that you’re late to the party,” I say sardonically. “Everyone else, from my father to your son, has already had their say.”
“Tough,” he says shortly. “I listened to you, despite wanting to knock you out for most of it. Now you get to give me the same courtesy.” He smiles coldly. “Family, you gigantic pain in my ass.”
I step back and brace myself.
“I told you that I came to Miami because you’re family,” he continues. “But I also came because Mak believes that when this is done, you plan to disappear completely.”
I experience a by-now-familiar urge to cause Mak physical pain. “He shouldn’t have said that. Or told any of you about Phantom.”
“And if he hadn’t, none of us would be here helping you now.” Roman’s mouth twists. “You of all people should know Mak never does anything without good reason.”
“I never asked for help.” I regret the words as soon as they’re out of my mouth.
His dry look is the only acknowledgment of what we both know was a stupid remark. “If you wish to disappear,” he goes on as if I hadn’t spoken, “I can’t stop you.”
He pauses. “I will, however, say this: if you disappear without Ofelia, you will break her heart. That, maybe, I could forgive—in time. But if you disappear with her,” he says, fixing me with an extremely steely eye, “you will condemn her to the same fate your sister faced: a life where the only constants are danger and fear. And that, Alexei, I won’t ever forgive. ”
Every word feels like a dentist drill hitting a nerve at high speed.
“I don’t doubt that you love each other.
” The strangled way he says the words might make me smile, under other circumstances.
“But you and I both know what this life asks, Alexei. It’s hard enough to navigate it surrounded by family and close friends.
But if you leave Miami the wrong way, you’ll be asking Ofelia to face our world without even those safety nets.
Maybe you could make that work for a month, a year, maybe even a few years.
But you can’t ask her to run forever.” His mouth twists in a humorless smile.
“Something I know very well, given that when I met Darya, she’d been running for over six years. ”
His eyes turn hard. “Your sister will never say this to you, because it isn’t in her nature to cast blame or cause anyone else suffering. But the fact is that when she and I first met, her situation was utterly desperate.”
I frown. I’ve never inquired about the origins of Darya and Roman’s relationship. By the time we reconnected, they were very much a couple, already expecting their first child.
“I won’t go into details,” Roman says curtly, “other than to say that had Darya not come to live with me back then, I do not believe she and your father would have lasted another day on the streets before the Orlovs found them.”
Despite the warm night, and the years that have passed between then and now, a cold shiver runs down my spine. I’m not sure what is harder—hearing the truth or the fact that my sister tried to protect me from it.
“I understand.” I keep my emotions locked coldly behind the mask I perfected years ago. “But there’s no need for this, Roman. It’s clear what you’d prefer—”
“Christ, you’re an idiot.” He gives a harsh laugh.
“What I prefer, Alexei, is for my daughter to be happy. And happiness, for Ofelia, whether I like it or not, means you. But it also means playing piano on a concert stage. Hugging her siblings. Talking to Darya when she needs advice. It means a wedding,” he says gruffly, his voice rasping suddenly, “where her father walks her down the aisle.”
Inhaling sharply, he turns away from me.
Deeply unsettled by his uncharacteristic display of emotion, I stay silent.
“What I’m trying to say,” he goes on eventually, “is that we both know the decisions you make now will dictate more than just your fate.” He walks to where the boat is waiting.
“So for Chrissakes, Alexei, fucking think them through. And if you’ll take a piece of advice from a Borovsky who married a Petrovsky,” he says dryly, stepping into the boat, “you might like to actually include Ofelia in those decisions.” He puts his finger on the starter motor, then pauses.
“Call my daughter,” he says quietly. “Tell her how you feel and what you’re planning.
“Because if there’s one thing you and I both know about this world of ours,” he says, his face uncharacteristically somber, “it’s that tomorrow is never guaranteed.”