Chapter Eight
A vine of nerves climbs up my throat, choking me. Damn. I thoughtnothing could ever shake me. Turns out, I was wrong. The fifteen-year-old girl sitting across from me has shaken me to my core. All my manly bravado and badassery have turned to scrambled eggs in the wake of meeting my daughter. Daughter. Jesus. I have a kid. A nearly grown one at that.
I’ve missed so much. But maybe that was for the best. I would’ve just screwed everything up, I’m sure. My ex must’ve agreed. I still can’t believe Katerina hid my child from me for years. It’s not lost on me that I wouldn’t know about her now if Kat hadn’t gone and died. I hate that fact. Hate that it took death to bring me the life I helped create. I may not know what to do with her or how to raise her, but I do know I love her. I’m not giving up on her.
Do I think I can be a good father? No. Not really. Am I going to try? Yes. A mediocre father is better than no father, right? So here I sit. Pretending to watch some show. But really, I’m watching where she sits on the other side of the room. She’s playing on her iPhone. Laughing at whatever she’s looking at. Her smile reminds me of her mother. Very few times have I seen Katerina’s genuine, happy smile. But I remember it was beautiful. Lilianna places her phone on the suede couch and turns towards me.
“Mr. Volkov.”
“Lilianna, please call me Mikhail,” I tell her for the billionth time.
My silver-gray eyes stare back at me. There was never a need for a DNA test. I knew she was mine. Not many people have the same shocking silver eyes I do. My brothers have gray eyes, but they’re not silver. Kaz’s lean more towards a gray blue while Dmitri’s are a deep gray.
“Mr. Volkov, can I have a friend over?”
She ignored my request. Again. But I let it go. For the sake of saving myself from one of her meltdowns. Seems she inherited a few traits of Katerina’s.
“Who?” I ask.
“Arkadi.”
I sigh. “I don’t like that boy, Lilianna.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “He doesn’t like you either.”
“At least we can agree on something. I just don’t see why you can’t date a boy your age.”
“He’s only eighteen. It’s not like he’s ten years older than me.”
“I still don’t like it,” I grumble.
“Can he come over or not?” Lilianna asks.
Tears are welling in her eyes. But her tone is more fury than sadness. All the parenting books I’ve read in the last month say to ‘pick your battles’ and compromise.
“Fine. But stay where someone can see you.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. He’s a boy, Lilianna. I’m not giving him free rein of my home. You two can stay in the kitchen or outside. But someone will be with you the entire time.”
Lilianna jumps off the couch. Her dark hair bounces with her sudden movement. “No. I’m not fucking doing that.”
I can see the meltdown coming at me like a bullet train at full speed. But this is something I’m not willing to let go. I’m picking my battle. She can get away with calling me Mr. Volkov. Even cussing at me. But I draw the line at having boys alone in her room.
“I’m not budging on this, Lilianna.”
She stomps her foot like a child. “This is so fucking stupid.”
“I’m sorry, Lilianna. But stay in someone’s view the entire time or don’t have him over.”
My daughter’s face turns red. “Mom was right. You are an asshole.”
Ouch. That stung. I stand there with my mouth hanging open. What the hell am I supposed to say to that? The parenting books never mentioned this. They skipped right over the chapters on how to handle a teenage girl. Maybe this is something I should stay out of. I’ve only been a father for a month. Do I really know what’s best for her? But I can’t shake the feeling of doom I get whenever she brings up Arkadi. Something about him, I just don’t like.
“I don’t know what your mother has told you, Lilianna, but I’m only trying to do what’s best for you. Right now, that doesn’t include alone time with Arkadi Popov. I’m sorry.”
Lilianna screams in frustration before stomping out of the room. I’m left feeling like the villain in my daughter’s story. The words she threw in my face replay like a broken record, each cutting deeper than the last. My shoulders sag. I’m used to feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. But the weight of fatherhood? That’s new, and I’m starting to worry that I’m not strong enough to carry it.
“I thought you could use a drink.”
I turn to find Kaz’s mother behind me with a tumbler full of vodka.
“Thank you, Mama Volkov.”
Taking the glass from her, I sink into the chair. “She hates me.”
“Seems that way.”
I narrow my eyes at Mama Volkov. Shouldn’t mothers try to make their children feel better? She’s not my real mom, I realize that, but Mama Volkov is the closest thing I’ve got. The sixty-something woman has the audacity to smirk at me. Her gray hair frames her face, styled perfectly as always.
“Thanks for that.”
“Come on, Mikhail. All teenagers hate their parents. It’s the way of life.”
Her French accent comes out a little at the end of her sentence. Mama Volkov has lived in Russia for the better part of thirty years. But the French in her has never disappeared.
“Maybe it’s for the best,” I start. “Maybe I am ruining her life like this.”
Mama Volkov tsks at me. She sits down on the coffee table in front of me. The light catches on the white scar adorning her cheek. Guilt punches me every time I see it. My brothers and I may have managed to save her life, but we couldn’t save her from my father’s mean streak. She’s never held it against us, but I do. I should’ve done more.
“That’s nonsense, Mikhail. You just need to give her some time. The girl just lost her mother and was dropped off at a stranger’s home. She’s probably scared out of her mind.”
“I know.”
“She’ll calm down with time. Just show her who you really are. Show her there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
But isn’t there? I’m not a good man. I’m not even a decent man. I’m a killer. The amount of blood on my hands is enormous. Isn’t that something a young woman should fear?
Mama Volkov pats my knee. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking, Mikhail. You’ve done things for this family. Things you had to do. But that doesn’t mean you’re not a good role model.”
I take a long sip of my drink. The alcohol is a welcome burn as it slides down my throat. “Pretty sure that’s exactly what it means.”
She rolls her eyes. “Stubborn. All of you boys are so damn stubborn. Speaking of, have you heard from your brothers?”
I shake my head. “Haven’t heard from them since yesterday morning.”
Which is odd now that I think about it. I’ve been so distracted with Lilianna that I haven’t realized they didn’t check in today. My eyes go to the grandfather clock placed by the wall. It’s already nearly nine o’clock at night here.
Sliding out my phone, I click on Dmitri’s number. The room fills with a trill. It rings and rings but goes to voicemail in the end.
I sigh. “Guess they’re busy.”
Mama Volkov gives me a look. She knows it’s odd for them to have gone radio silent. But it’s happened before. Sometimes, it can’t be helped. Our lifestyle can get dicey quick. I can only hope their silence means they found Thomas and our money.
“Tell Kaz to call his mother back if you hear from them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t worry about Lilianna. She’ll be okay. Just remember to give it time.”
I nod. Even though the thought of giving this time makes me want to shoot someone. Mama Volkov leaves me again. Finishing the rest of my drink, I stand from the recliner and walk to my office.
My footsteps echo down the empty hallway. The walls are lined with overpriced art that I don’t understand. But Mama Volkov loves them, and so they hang. The door groans as I push it open to reveal my office. The office is large with a fireplace. My desk sits in the middle of the room with two chairs in front of it. The space is sparse compared to the clutter my father used to have. He used to have two big leather couches here. So, when he met with a particularly pretty girl, he’d have space to do what he wanted to her. I’m sad to say he didn’t always give the women a choice. In fact, all three of his wives were women who were taken against their will and got pregnant from it. It was a game my father played. He’d fuck anything that would move. But only certain women he’d finish inside of. For some reason, it was never the same woman twice, and he found a new wife every five years. He was like Jeepers Creepers with his schedule. He never deviated. It was just natural for him.
The quiet is shattered when my phone rings, pulling me from my thoughts. Sliding it out of the pocket of my dress slacks, I expect to see Dmitri’s name on the screen. Instead, it’s my cousin. Nikolai.
“About time, fucker,” I answer.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah, right,” I reply. “You’re the definition of busy is fucking four women in one night.”
“So?”
“So that’s not being busy. That’s being selfish.”
“Fuck off, Mikhail. What did you need anyway? You’ve called me like ten times.”
“Twenty, actually. Over the last three days.”
“You sound like a clingy one-night stand. Did it ever occur to you, cousin, that if I didn’t answer once, I wouldn’t answer at all?”
I chuckle. He’d know all about one-night stands. There’s no telling the number of bastard children he’s got. Nikolai grew up with my brothers and me. His father was my father’s brother. He died when Nikolai was only fourteen, so my father took him in. By the time that happened, I was already sixteen. I knew who my father was. Nikolai didn’t. He idolized him. That was a mistake on his part. The little shit never listened to me. It always seemed like the harder I tried to steer him right, the more he veered left.
“You should really stop fucking around, Niko. How many kids do you have?”
“Ooof,” he grunts. “You’re projecting your issues onto me. I don’t have a bastard. You do.”
The words are like a bullet to my chest. Just as he intended. “Call my daughter a bastard again, and I’ll cut your tongue out.”
“I’m only joking.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“I see that. Tough crowd.”
“Asshole.”
Sometimes, I don’t even know why I bother with this guy. He can be a total dick. But he’s also my baby cousin. My only cousin. I’ve got to take care of him. Just as I do Lilianna, my brothers, my staff, and Mama Volkov. These people are my responsibility.
“What did you need, cousin?”
“It’s about Thomas Taylor.”
“What about him?”
“He and my money have disappeared.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No, he’s not answering his phone. When Kaz and Dmitri went to his place, it was trashed. He hasn’t been seen in a few weeks.”
“What the fuck,” Nikolai says.
By the anger and betrayal in his voice, I realize he didn’t know anything about Thomas’ disappearing act.
“I take it you haven’t heard from him?”
“No. But we usually meet once a month for the investment check-in. Just like you.”
“Okay. Maybe Dmitri and Kaz will find something back in Vegas. Let me know if you hear anything?”
“Yeah. Uh, did they find a laptop at Thomas’ place?”
“Uh, I think so. But it was too destroyed to get anything off of. Why?”
“Oh, no reason. I was just thinking I knew his password. I could look for the accounts on there.”
“Well, I’ll let you know if we find anything.”
“Thanks,” Nikolai says. “I’ll call you if I hear something. I’ve got some friends in Vegas. They might be able to help.”
“Let’s wait until I hear from Dmitri and Kaz before spreading the news. I don’t need attention on me right now.”
“Whatever you say, cousin. But call me the moment you hear something.”
My reply dies when I hear a commotion down the hallway. It sounds like it’s coming from the front foyer.
“I will,” I tell Nikolai. “Talk soon.”
I hang up before he can open his mouth. The sound is only growing as I leave my office. What is going on? Is it Lilianna? Did she invite that meathead over? Is he hurting her? That thought has me jogging down the long hallway to the stairs. I pause at the top when I see Dmitri and Kaz walk in. There’s a dozen or so of my guards trailing behind them. They’re pushing and shoving each other to get in the door faster.
“What the hell is going on?” I shout, stomping down the stairs. “Where have you two been?”
“Just got off the plane,” Dmitri said.
“And? What did you find out?”
Kaz steps out from behind Dmitri. Suddenly, I understand my guard”s need to get through the door. My brother is holding the most beautiful creature in his arms. A real-life fucking angel.
“Meet Vivienne McBride,” Dmitri says. “The culprit behind Thomas Taylor’s disappearance and our missing money.”
Vivienne McBride.The name is a haunting melody that comes to a screeching halt as the rest of Dmitri’s words sink in. Knowing she is the one who stole from us gives me pause. There’s no coincidence in this. Her brother put her up to this. Declan McBride must think I’m stupid. Because I know she didn’t do this all by herself. She’s just a little slip of a thing.
“Tie her up in the cellar,” I say.
“No,” Kaz replies.
“Excuse me?”
“No. If she’s getting tied up anywhere, it’ll be in my bed.”
Annoyed, I get right in my youngest brother’s face. I can smell Vivienne’s sweet cherry scent from here. It invades my brain, turning it to mush. But I push my shoulders back and look my brother in the eye.
“You’re going to say no to me?”
Kaz smiles in a way I haven’t seen him do since he was a child. “You heard me, Mikhail. You want her tied up? It’ll be in my fucking bed.”
He walks off, carrying Vivienne up the stairs to his room. What the fuck was that? I look at Dmitri, and he shrugs.
“I don’t know what is wrong with him. She stabbed him in the arm, and he’s still not allowing anyone else near her. I can’t even understand how he’s hauling her around right now.”
This cannot be happening. First, my dream girl steals five million dollars from me, and now, my brother is convinced she’s his girl. Fuck my life.