Taisiya
The hallway is quiet. Arseny doesn’t move. He stands in the centre of the entrance hall, hands at his sides. I look for a resemblance. I find it in the set of his jaw and the line of his nose. It is my face on a man who looks like he has buried more people than he has met.
“You came,” he says.
“Vadim thinks I’m an idiot for it.”
Arseny lets out a short breath. “Vadim Voronov thinks most people are idiots. He isn’t always wrong.”
He gestures toward a room on the left. I walk past him. The house is cold. It doesn’t feel like a home. It feels like a museum dedicated to a life I don’t recognise. I stop by a heavy wooden desk and turn to face him.
“You wanted to see me,” I say, my voice steadier than my pulse.
“I wanted to see if you would actually show up without your husband’s permission.”
“I don’t need his permission.”
“I didn’t know you existed, Taisiya. If I had, I would’ve burned every bridge in this city to bring you back.”
The conviction in his voice is terrifying. It’s the same absolute certainty I hear in Vadim’s tone. “But you must’ve suspected?”
“I did. I asked the right questions, but your mother was… I was not the only man she was seeing at the time.”
I baulk at that euphemism. “Are you saying she was a slut?”
“I would never use that vulgar word.” His tone has a slight reprimand to it that I will not admit hits me in the chest and makes me feel slightly guilty for using it.
I lift my chin higher in defiance, and he sees it.
He smiles. “But your mother was a popular woman. She convinced me with enough details that you were not mine.”
“And you just sailed off into the sunset and forgot all about it.”
“I could’ve pressed harder, admittedly. I could’ve kidnapped you and given you a DNA test. Is that what you would’ve preferred?”
The old bastard has got me there. “Obviously not,” I say as witheringly as I can. I squeeze my fingers as my next words are going to hurt. Me. “You didn’t think to check on me? To see me as an adult and maybe ask a few questions? Or did you just forget about me?”
“I forgot. But not in the way you are implying. Your mother wanted to be left alone after Mikhail died and the Bratva life became a reality to her. She wanted to disappear. I let her after I was satisfied that you weren’t mine. But then Pavel made a grave error of judgement.”
“Pavel the uncle I never knew?”
“The very same. He obviously did know about you and tried to use you. I found out about you, and here we are.”
“You’re saying you only realised who I was a few days ago?” I scoff.
He nods slowly. “Believe me or not. That choice is yours.”
I stare at him as the grandfather clock ticks away whatever is left of my twelve and a half minutes.
“You expect me to just accept that?” I ask. “A convenient mistake that suddenly matters because Pavel got greedy?”
Arseny moves toward the window. He looks toward the drive where Vadim is waiting. “I don’t expect anything from you, Taisiya. I am stating facts. Pavel paid for his greed.”
“Vadim told me.”
“Then you know I protect what is mine.”
“I’m not yours,” I snap, my hands trembling. “I’m nobody’s. I spent my life being invisible. I was fine with it. Then Gregor happened. Then Vadim happened. Now you.”
He turns back to me. His eyes are cold. “You killed a man to survive. That is Kaverin blood.”
“It was self-defence. I was terrified.”
“Fear is a tool. You used it.”
“I didn’t come here for a lecture on how to be a criminal. I came to see if you were real.”
“I’m real. And I am not going away. Whatever capacity you want me in your life, I will accept.”
“So you will leave me alone if I tell you to?” The clock on the wall indicates my time is up.
Vadim will be at the door in seconds. I look at the man who claims to be my father and feel a strange, hollow ache.
He isn’t the monster I imagined, but he isn’t a hero either.
He’s just another man with too much power and a history written in blood.
“If that is your wish.”
A loud crash echoes through the entrance hall, and I wince as Vadim comes striding in, gun raised, having just kicked the front doors in. “You okay?” he asks me, eyes on Arseny.
“Fine,” I mutter. “Let’s go.”
Vadim doesn’t lower the weapon. He stands there like a dark god of vengeance. He stands between us, his broad shoulders blocking my view of the man who claims to be my father.
“Time was up,” Vadim says. His voice is a low, dangerous vibration.
“I’m fine, Vadim. Put that away,” I say. I move to the side so I can see both of them.
Arseny remains still. He doesn’t look at the gun. He looks at me. “Your husband has a flair for the dramatic, Taisiya.”
“He’s thorough,” I retort. I don’t want to stay in this house a second longer. The weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future are suffocating. I reach out and tug on Vadim’s sleeve. “We’re leaving. Now.”
Vadim cuts me a look. He doesn’t move. He stares at Arseny for another long second. “If I find out you’ve upset her, I’ll come back and empty this into you, guards or not.”
“I’m sure you will,” Arseny replies. He doesn’t move to follow us. “I would expect nothing less from my daughter’s husband.”
I lead Vadim out of the room, feeling cold but not angry. We walk through the wreckage of the front door, and I give Vadim a look. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”
He smirks. “It was one of my finer entrances.”
“Don’t make a habit out of it,” I say and turn to see Arseny standing in the doorway. “If you want to play dad,” I say to him, “be my guest. But we go at my pace, not yours.”
“Understood. But I’m not playing at anything, Taisiya.”
I turn away from the man who claims to be my blood and march toward the Bentley.
My legs feel heavy. Vadim follows close behind me.
He doesn’t holster his weapon until we reach the car.
He pulls the door open for me, and I climb in.
I don’t look back at the house. I don’t want to see Arseny standing in the frame of that broken door.
Vadim slams his door shut and starts the engine. The roar of the car fills the quiet street. He doesn’t pull away immediately. He stares at the house with a murderous expression.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine. Just drive, Vadim.”
“He didn’t hurt you?”
“No. We just talked. He called my mother a slut.”
Vadim snorts as he shifts into gear. “Yeah, I heard that one already.”
“Okay, he berated me for using that word, but that’s what he meant. I suppose I can’t be mad at him if my potential dad was one of several she ran from and told them all lies.”
“That’s a very mature outlook.”
“Gee, don’t sound so surprised.”
Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I lean my head back against the leather headrest, closing my eyes as the Bentley glides away from Tredegar Square.
The adrenaline is receding, leaving a bone-deep exhaustion in its wake.
My life has become a series of high-stakes collisions, and here I am, just trying to keep my head above water.
“I’m not surprised,” Vadim says, his voice losing its edge as he weaves through traffic. “I’m just glad you’re back in this car. I was seconds away from levelling that place.”
“I noticed. The door repair is going to cost a small fortune.”
“I’ll send him the money. Or I won’t. I don’t give a fuck about the money.” He reaches over, his hand landing on my thigh and squeezing firmly. “Roman said the police situation is handled,” he adds.
“Handled how?”
“Do you want the details?”
“Yes. No. Maybe.”
“Covering all your bases?” he asks with a dark chuckle.
“Do I want to know?” I ask him instead.
“No. Just know that your husband will never let you hang for a murder or anything else, for that matter.”
“I don’t know what you see in me to want to protect me,” I whisper. “But thank you.”
He squeezes my thigh. “Don’t thank me, zhena moya. You are everything I didn’t know I wanted.”
“Ugh,” I say, rolling my eyes now. “Such a cliché.”
“But accurate, which is why clichés are clichés.”
“Okay, smartarse.”
Vadim navigates the Bentley back toward our side of London with the kind of aggressiveness that usually makes me hold my breath. My hand rests over his on my thigh.
“What now?” I ask, staring at the blurred storefronts of the East End.
“Now we go home. You eat something that isn’t a sandwich, and I make sure Arseny stays on his side of the fence.”
“He’s not going to obey, Vadim.”
He glances at me, his blue eyes searching. “You really want to keep the door open for him?”
“Maybe a crack. I spent my whole life wondering. It’s hard to just shut it when the answer is a pakhan in a tailored suit that bears more than passing resemblance to me.”
Vadim grunts, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Just don’t expect him to be a saint. He’s a pakhan for a reason. He has more blood on his hands than most.”
“I’m not looking for a saint. I’m married to you, remember?”
He smirks, the dark tension finally breaking. “Good point.”
We pull through the gates of the estate, and I feel a strange sense of relief.
“And before you ask, the answer is no,” I state.
“No?” he asks.
“No. I do not want to see or hear from my mother. I said it before; I stand by it. That road is closed.”
“Understood.”
“So, what’s up with Bogdan?” I ask as we climb out of the car into a weak sunlight. “He’s your cousin now?”
“Always was. Just no one knew it.”
“Lot of that going around.” I take his hand and lace our fingers together as we walk to the front door.
Vadim leads me into the house, his hand never leaving mine.
The air inside is warm, with the faint, lingering scent of whatever Ivan has simmering on the stove.
I feel like a different person than the woman who left this morning.
My knees don’t shake anymore. The ghost of the police detective doesn’t feel like he’s breathing down my neck.
Gregor’s face will forever be etched into my memory, but I won’t feel guilty about it.
Maybe I’m more Kaverin than I want to admit.
“Your package just arrived, Tai,” Ivan says, appearing with a box and holding it out.
“Thanks,” I say, taking it. “Do you mind if I go and test them out?” I ask Vadim.
“You never have to ask,” he says, pulling me closer for a soft kiss.
When he releases me, I take the stairs with a heavy tread.
My mind is a mess of Arseny’s cold eyes and the way Vadim kicked in that door.
It’s a lot to process for a single morning.
I reach our bedroom and shut the door, putting my back against the wood and just breathing.
The silence in this house feels different from the silence in Bow. It feels earned.
I sit on the edge of the mattress and rip the tape off the box. The headphones are exactly what I wanted. I sync them to the television and pull them over my ears. The world disappears. I watch the muted screen, seeing a woman cry over a renovated kitchen. It’s normal. It’s mundane. It’s noise.
Vadim walks in five minutes later and turns his back to me as he takes off his watch, then his clothes. I remember that he hasn’t slept in forever.
He doesn’t speak as he crawls into bed. He just takes my hand and holds it as he closes his eyes.
I turn my attention back to the TV while he sleeps, a smile pulling at my lips.
This is… perfect.