Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Anya
“Papochka!” I call out, racing toward him.
He looks up from his laptop, and stops leaning over the kitchen counter, whatever he’s working on completely forgotten at the sound of my voice.
My sneakers slap against the tiled floor as I run to him, launching myself forward as soon as I’m close enough.
My father catches me easily as I jump into his arms, like I weigh nothing to him.
“You didn’t tell me you were flying back early,” he says, his voice almost being muffled by my wild hair. “I was going to meet you both at the airport.”
“I wanted to surprise you,” I tell him, leaning back to beam up at his familiar face. “We had to drop Matteo off at his house anyway, and this way you didn’t have to make the extra stop with us.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t come right here,” Dad grumbles, but it’s half-hearted at best.
“He almost did,” I quip happily. “But he wanted to go get a car for himself and get his things unpacked. Dante wouldn’t let him come stay for more than a weekend in that big house all by himself, as it is. So, he has a small team of guards to get sorted as well.”
“I would do the same,” he replies begrudgingly, sounding almost like he’s trying to be more uncomfortable than he truly is.
“Don’t go acting like Uncle Lev on me,” I command with a tsk, wrapping him up in another quick hug before releasing him.
“I know that you like Matteo now, even if you try to hide it. I think Uncle Mikhail likes him too. Matteo gave him a bottle of Billionaire Vodka just to say thank you for accompanying me on my trip.”
Dad curves up an eyebrow, looking over my shoulder to observe his brother. “You going to share that, Mikhail?”
“Maybe,” my uncle grunts. “Maybe not.”
“You wouldn’t drink three million dollars on your own,” Dad challenges, smirking.
“Three point seven,” Uncle Mikhail corrects and my jaw drops.
“We should give Aleksandr a taste at least,” Dad suggests. “It’ll put some hair on his chest.”
“Be wasted on him,” Mikhail grunts. “He favors beer.”
My dad shakes his head, scrunching his nose up in distaste. “Unfortunate.”
His brother shrugs. “Means more for us.”
“True.”
“I’m sorry, can we back up for a second? Did you guys say that vodka cost almost four million dollars?”
Dad chuckles, nodding to answer my question.
“I didn’t know it was that much,” I say, looking between them with a gulp. “Isn’t that a bit excessive for a gift?”
My father softens, looking down at me. “There’s nothing too excessive to say thank you for protecting something as precious as you, dochen’ka.”
My eyes roll in disbelief. “You’re my dad, you have to say that.”
He puts an arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. “I don’t have to mean it, but I do.”
I relax easily, letting him hold me a bit longer, comforted by his fatherly touch. “Are Aunt Irina and Uncle Lev coming over today?”
“Tomorrow,” Dad states quickly. “Irina wanted a spa trip, and your uncle is with Nadya. They went into the mountains to see the last of the snow up north before it melts.”
It’s always nice to hear about Uncle Lev spending time with Nadya. He can get busy sometimes, but she always seems to appreciate being able to be with her father. I can relate.
“There wasn’t snow in Pennsylvania,” I inform him, half frowning. “Not even a little bit of it. I was sad that the weather didn’t surprise us with it.”
“It was cold enough without it,” Uncle Mikhail reports.
“He wasn’t as disappointed as I was,” I huff.
Dad chuckles. “Uncle Mikhail has had enough snow for a lifetime, dochen’ka. He visits Russia much more than the rest of us.”
That he does.
And for reasons that I’m unaware of. Likely to visit family, or to do things for the Bratva.
But he never says why he’s leaving when he goes away for a week, or sometimes even a month.
Aunt Irina has always made up a story that he’s going to see the mother of his boys, but I know it’s just a fable.
Mikhail has never told anyone who gave him his children, not even my father.
“I have to go unpack and start some laundry,” I report with a sigh. “And shower. I refuse to let the airplane air get me sick.” Not while I have so many days with Matteo ahead of me.
Dad nods in understanding and asks, “Should we expect the boy for lunch?”
“I don’t think so,” I answer with a small shrug. “It might take him a bit to get a car and get his guards all set up at the house. Definitely dinner, though. I’ll let you know when I know.”
“All right, dochen’ka,” he says, patting my shoulder. “Come talk to me later, yes? It’s good to have you home again.”
“Yeah, I’ll find you in a little bit.” I smile. “It’s good to be home again.”
And it is. I didn’t mind traveling as much as I thought I might. I was uncomfortable with the new experience of flying without my father, and going into a new city, but I didn’t freak out even once. My video chat check-in with Tiffany went well, and she was very encouraging.
She even told me that she was proud of me and all the progress I’m making.
When I accredited the program to my progress, she shook her head and firmly set me straight.
The program can’t heal you unless you do the work.
Your determination and dedication to healing is what got you here. Not the program itself.
I knew that she was right, and I also knew that I still had healing to be done. I didn’t kiss Matteo because part of me is still holding back. I still have to take smaller steps toward my ultimate goals, but hearing the words come from her directly made me swell with pride.
I may not be dancing again yet, and I may not have spoken to my brothers yet, but I did something brave.
I allowed myself to open my heart to Matteo.
Not with words or with confessions of love, but with action.
I went to see him. I made the choice to put myself in a possibly triggering position so that I wouldn’t be so scared to do it again in the future.
And I wasn’t just rewarded by a job well done. I was rewarded with Matteo leaving with me. He wanted to see more of me, just as much as I wanted to see more of him.
I still can’t believe that he’s only a short car ride away now, instead of across the whole country. And he plans to stay for weeks. This time, his trip out here isn’t a secret, either.
He told his whole family that he would be leaving to visit me for a while, loud and proud this morning while I waited for him to join me and my uncle at our hotel. Everyone was happy for him, from what he told me. And Jade was only a little sad that she would be without him while he was with me.
If I’m honest with myself, part of me feels guilty for stealing him away from Cesar and Isobella. The two little babies see him daily, and they love him so much—anyone can see it. But I can’t have him while he’s there, and I can’t feel bad for needing him when he makes me feel so safe and secure.
It’s my turn with him for a while.
And maybe part of me hopes that with Matteo here more, Jade and Dmitri will move here sooner.
I’m still scared to see my brothers, and I know that it won’t be easy.
But this is their home as much as it is mine.
The twins deserve to grow up here—where they’ll live for the rest of their lives.
Dmitri is our future Pakhan, and I know the Morettis are a close-knit family, but Jade married him knowing that her future home would be here, by his side.
It may be unreasonable, but I’m beginning to hope that Matteo’s future home is here as well. Not just to be with his sister and his nieces and nephews, but to be with me.
I know we haven’t voiced what we are to one another yet, but I don’t know if we need to. I know that he wants to be around me, and that I want to be around him. For now, that’s enough to quell the bubbling feelings in my chest. It’s enough to keep me happy, and it’s more than enough to build upon.
By the time I’ve gotten clean, dressed, and put my light makeup back into place, a text from Matteo lights up my phone.
Matteo
On my way. I’m cooking dinner, so someone has to tell Grigory to take the night off.
Matteo
Unless he’ll hate me for that? He can make dessert if he’s anything like Martha and can’t be told to take even a moment’s rest without getting snappy LOL.
I giggle down at my phone, laughing girlishly as I slip on my house shoes and run downstairs to get to our family chef before he can start prepping for the evening meal. Luckily, when I find him, he’s merely refilling his spices.
“Hi, Grigory,” I say, quietly announcing myself so I don’t startle him.
He turns and offers me a big smile, which would be a tiny grin on anyone else. Grigory isn’t a very merry fellow, but he always has a happy face for Aunt Irina, Nadya, and me.
“Hello, Anya,” he greets in return. “Do you have a meal request?”
“Sort of,” I answer, forcing my smile to be friendly rather than awkward. “Actually, my friend wants to cook for us tonight, if that’s okay? He’s going to make his family’s chicken parmesan. He says he’d love to have a dessert from you, though! He has quite the sweet tooth.”
Grigory hums, considering. “The boy who was here before? He wants to cook for you?”
I can’t sense his tone. “Yes?”
His lips twitch, and he nods. “It is good to cook for those we care for. He may use the kitchen. I will make dessert. Something fruity or chocolate?”
“Thank you,” I say with a bit too much cheer. “Chocolate is probably best, I think. I’m so looking forward to it, I love everything you make. I’ll go let my father know what the plan is.”
“He will not be dining with you,” Grigory tells me before I can leave the room. “He has the annual meeting with underbosses tonight.”
“He does?” I ask, surprised that he didn’t tell me. “Is Uncle Mikhail going?”
My chef shrugs. “I do not know.”